#honestly this has gotta be a coming off meds side effect

[echoes-lighthouse]

Me: Ugh I haven’t had a proper hyperfixation since I went on these meds, I miss caring about things to that level of energy.

Me: Gets doctor approval to go off meds

Me: Doesn’t sleep for 24 hours because I was too energized by caring about a piece of media

Me:

But I had energy to dance for like an hour!!! That was cool!!! I’ve only had energy for like one song at a time for the last few years!! Actual exercise without immediate exhaustion???

Now I’m relegating myself to non-fandom related colouring pages so I can calm down before work in three hours :(

This is going to be an interesting experiment but I’m a bit nervous about the whole thing, and it’s hard to tell if things like this are good or bad??? Y’know??

[sevcasejay1chicago]

Relax- Kelly Severide and Matt Casey

Summary: You’ve been pretty sick, and now Kelly is hurt. Matt and your friends at Med will take care of you.

Warning: SPOILERS (I can’t remember which season honestly), vomiting, sickness, hints/talks about drugs/addictions

~~~~~~~~~~~

You haven’t been able to relax since Kelly jumped out of the third story window and landed on the ground, completely unconscious and unresponsive. Matt had to pull you back so that Gabbi and Brett could work on him and get him in the ambo. Gabbi had to take over because you were too distraught, completely overwhelmed and terrified. Shaking too much to be able to properly tend to Kelly, no matter how hard you tried to steady your hands.

Days later, you are sat in one of the recliners in Kelly’s hospital room, waiting for him to wake up from the pain meds Clarke gave him after his transplant. You had the button for the pain meds, knowing good and well that Kelly would be afraid to use it after his fight to sobriety. Matt left you in charge of keeping up with Kelly, getting you the same shifts off as Kelly in order to be by his side, but also so that you could focus on school for a bit.

Everything has been stressing you out. School has been extra challenging with you also dealing with a sickness and still working at the firehouse as the PIC. Ironically, your own body was waging war within you and you didn’t actually catch this sickness from anyone else, but Natalie and Will have been treating you for it. The hardest part was waking up in the middle of the night to take the medication and the vomiting from the side effects.

The night before the accident, you accidentally woke Kelly and Matt up when you went running for the bathroom.

Kelly turned over to flip on the light when he was startled awake by your feet running across the floor. He shook Matt, who had been sleeping deeply and completely missed your mad dash for the toilet. “Matt. Wake up.” Kelly sighed, shoving Matt in one final attempt to wake him up before Kelly made his way to you. “Y/N’s getting sick again. Get up.” Kelly rolled his eyes and jogged after you when he heard Matt groan, but shift to get up.

Once Kelly got to you, you were already crouched in front of the toilet, one hand holding your hair back and the other helping to steady yourself. You were gasping and coughing, having already puked once, but feeling more coming on, but it felt stuck. Kelly ran the rest of the way to you, taking your hair from you. “Shhh sweetheart. It’s alright.” Kelly cooed, rubbing your back.

Matt came jogging in seconds later, coming to sit on the edge of the tub, leaning back to grab one of the wash cloths and wetting it under the faucet before placing it on your neck. “Awww baby.” Matt sighed, standing to help lower you to the ground. “Kneel down sweetheart. It’s alright. We gotcha.” Matt cooed, dropping himself back onto the edge of the tub and taking your hand in his.

You had allowed to Matt guide you down. You were exhausted. They were exhausted. You had been fighting this feeling for about an hour, but you just couldn’t hold it anymore. Kelly thumped your back, seeing as all the gasping and coughing you were doing wasn’t helping your situation.

“Breathe hunny.” Kelly whispered, patting your back again and releasing your hair to Matt so that he could reach around and rub your sternum.

“Your panicking sweetheart. You gotta relax.” Matt murmured, knowing that you probably knew this somewhere in the back of your mind, but you were so worked up that you couldn’t make yourself realize this.

Kelly felt you relaxing slightly under his hand, your chest muscles not as tense. Then you finally got it out, like your throat was clenched so tight that the vomit was blocked from coming up.

This round was harsh, like your body was urgent to reject it. Tears spilled down your face and you shook hard against Kelly, which was the only thing keeping you from falling forward. Your face was all but purple, strain causing redness and blue from lack of oxygen. It was like it was all pushed out of your body as you heaved. The vomit was practically continuous and it was starting to worry the boys.

“It’s okay. It’s alright hunny.” Matt whispered, urgent to try and get you to relax, but also trying to stay calm himself.

“We gotcha. It’s alright. It’s okay baby.” Kelly said, repeating himself three times before you finally stopped.

You leaned back, gasping and clawing at your chest. Kelly caught your body as you fell into him, clutching you to his chest. Matt caught your hands, holding them in his own and rubbing his thumbs over the backs. Kelly secured the washcloth that fell into him and wiped the vomit splatter off of your face.

“Slow down sweetheart.” Matt said firmly, catching your eyes. You locked onto him like he was the only thing that could save you. You sobbed loudly, releasing all the pent up anxiety in your cries, pressing yourself further into Kelly’s hold.

“Follow me sweetheart.” Kelly whispered in your hair, making his breathing slower but loud in order for you to be able to follow him. You leaned your head back, sobbing as your face looked up to the ceiling but you attempted to rest and relax into Kelly’s shoulder.

Matt let go of one of your hands to reach over and flush the toilet. He figured the smell wouldn’t be helping you relax and get through the worst of what you were currently feeling. He left the toilet lid up, though he was certain you were done, but he didn’t want to be wrong and you make a mess that would cause you to get even more upset.

Once you were calmed down, Matt got your tooth brush ready and then left to get you some clean clothes, seeing as you had gotten some vomit splattered onto your shirt. When Matt returned, Kelly was pressed up against you, rubbing your arms as you struggled to brush your teeth with how sensitive your gag reflex was at the moment.

“You are so strong. I love you.” Kelly whispered, kissing the spot behind your ear. You both hadn’t noticed Matt’s presence yet. You all loved each other so deeply.

Matt came up and kissed the other side, simply whispering a “me too” in your ear.

Then, after you were redressed and confident that you were okay enough to go back to sleep, you followed Matt back to bed with Kelly right behind you and settled in for some more sleep.

While Kelly had been hospitalized, Will and Nat had been floating in and out to check on you. Every now and then, they would hook you up to a saline drip and get some Zofran in you when the nausea was too much. They just billed the CFD insurance under Kelly’s name, given that he didn’t really need the Zofran, but it was plausible given the situation. You had refused to check in, so they just worked it out for you.

As it just so happened, that was your current situation since you didn’t want to disturb Kelly by vomiting in his room or making a mad dash for the bathroom and him hearing anyways. You were getting sleepy from the Zofran and placed your laptop to the side, seeing as you almost dropped it when you were nodding off.

Just as you put your school stuff away and pulled out the chair to make a makeshift bed for yourself, Matt walked in, trying to be quiet as to not wake Kelly, but loud enough to not startle you. “Hey sweetheart. Natalie called.” Matt whispered, coming to kneel next to you, brushing the hair back from your face.

“She didn’t have to do that.” You whispered back, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah she did.” Matt nodded, leaning over you to kiss your forehead. “Gotta be here for you both. I couldn’t live with myself if you were suffering to take care of Kelly and not taking care of yourself. Herrman has me covered and Boden practically pushed me out the door anyways.” Matt explained, slightly smiling at the end.

Just as you were about to reply, Kelly groaned behind Matt, shifting and grunting in pain. Matt was quick to stand, putting a hand out for you to stay where you were before running a hand over Kelly’s hair.

“Shhhhh.” Matt whispered, catching Kelly’s hand in one of his own and continuing to run a hand through the older man’s hair. “Relax Kels. We are right here. It’s alright. Just breathe.” Matt went on to coach him. Kelly fell into a fitful sleep, face pinched in pain, but slowly relaxing. Matt found you to be the culprit, having pushed the button since you couldn’t watch him be in pain anymore, but knowing Kelly was nowhere near maxed out.

“I couldn’t watch that.” You whispered, hanging your head down as you felt guilt overcome you. You and Matt knew that Kelly wouldn’t want the meds, but they gave him the stuff that wasn’t an opioid so he shouldn’t have a problem coming off of them. You knew that, but Kelly hadn’t come to terms with that before going through the procedure, so you had to make the decision for him.

Matt kissed Kelly quickly before kneeling next to you. “Hey.” Matt whispered, pulling your face up to meet his. Matt wiped at the tears coming down your face, brushing them off with the pad of his thumb. “It’s alright. He needed it and you know it’s okay for him to have it.” Matt comforted, hating to see you crying.

You nodded, closing your eyes and leaning into Matt’s touch. “Will you lay with me?” You whispered. “He won’t wake up for a while.” You said, knowing that would be one of Matt’s reservations.

“Of course sweetheart.” Matt whispered, picking you up and gingerly climbing in before laying you on top of him, careful of the tubes that were attached to you.

An hour later, Will and Nat came up with Clarke to check on you and Kelly. They found Kelly fast asleep, his hand clutched in yours. You were laid on top of Matt, all three of you were fast asleep. Nat gently unhooked your Iv from the tubing without waking any of you up and all of your friends stepped out of the room, closing the door after turning off the lights. You all deserved this sleep, even if it would be short lived.

[marvelfansince08love]

The Pleasure is all mine  Chapter 3

Word count: 1951

Pairing Lou Miller x Fem!Reader

Setting: A week has passed since the night at the club and Y/N is finding it difficult to trust Lou. We also get a glimpse of some of our lovely ladies (because Lady Paulson is my wife and you can’t tell me otherwise).

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of gunshot grazes and blood I do apologise but nothing to graphic. 

A/N: Not feeling very confident with this chapter but with some tweaking I’m kind of happy with it and I hope you enjoy it! This chapter with be in two parts as we delve more into it. I apologise for the angst I can’t seem to stay away from it :) 🖤

P.S ~ Your comments bring me joy and sunshine. I did try to proofread but alas I am trash.

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @5aftermidnight @iamheartless​ @deadly-darling​ @gaylorrds​

I do not own the gif below! 🖤

Chapter 3 

"Have a good night Y/N, enjoy the next three days of freedom" Sylvia the receptionist chirps as I tiredly walk out of the hospital building. I turn towards her slightly and smile lightly before continuing towards my car.

 I sigh gently rubbing the tiredness from my eyes before heading back to my apartment, my mind wondering as I passed the low glowing lights of New York. I glance at the digits on my dashboard:

 20.30

 Just enough time to grab some Chinese food before it shuts, I think, relieved.

 Once back inside my small, empty apartment: that's still full of packed boxes. I grab a cold water from the refrigerator and settle down on my worn-out couch for the evening. Halfway through and with heavy eyes that are struggling to stay open I'm startled by the sudden sound vibrating from my phone. I glance quickly at the clock in confusion:

 "Who the hell rings someone at 11pm" I mutter.

 With some panic thinking the worse I launch for my phone and press the green icon.

 "Hello"

 "Y/N"

 What the hell!

 "Lou! How did you get this number?"

 "I'm sorry for calling so late but I need your help" she speaks rushed and panicked.

 "How are you calling me at all? I don't remember giving you my phone number"

 She sighs on the other end of the line.

 "Look let me explain later okay but I need you and maybe bring a med kit"

 "I uh, Lou I don't know what you mean, what's going on?"

 "Look outside your window"

 I quickly scurry towards my open window; my eyes fall upon the side of the street. Stood there leaning gently against a slick black Harley Davidson is Lou.

 Great not only is she hot she also rides motorbikes. Can I be anymore gay for this woman.

 The normally confident blonde stands slightly slouched with her hands threading through her hair in frustration and seems to be distraught.

 Just like that night outside the club

 Without thinking too much into it I quickly put on my shoes and grab my coat as well as a spare med kit before sprinting down the stairs. She looks up and sighs in relief at the sound of my footsteps as I quickly step towards her. I do a quick scan of her; assessing for any visible injuries.

 "Lou what happened are you okay?!"

 She puts her hands on my forearms to stop me from physically touching her.

 "I'm okay Y/N but it's Debbie and I need you to come help I... I need you; I don't trust anyone else with this" the desperation in her eyes panics me, I've never seen them so scared and wild before. A rush of jealousy sours through me at the mention of her name before I squish it down, remembering the situation at hand. I quickly place both my hands onto the sides of her face which forces her to look at me.

 "Lou look at me, she will be okay just take me to her" I say softly trying to soothe her.

 Her shoulders slack and with a sigh she spins around towards to the bike and mounts onto it before grabbing a spare helmet from the handlebars and handing it to me. I quickly place the helmet over my head and throw my leg over the seat behind Lou.

 "You might wanna hold on tight, love" she says far to smug for her own good.

 I roll my eyes in good nature. Even through shitty situations she still has the cheek. I wrap my arms around her middle loosely, I hear her take a faint intake of breath and a warm feeling tingles through my body at the effect of being so close to her. Before I can think further into it, Lou speeds ahead into the night. I instantly tighten my hold around her and bury my face into her shoulder blade from the sudden jolt of increased speed. Lou laughs loudly over the sound of the engine. I grin softly and quickly pinch her side to show her my annoyance at her childish behaviour.

 This is going to be a long night.

 ***

 We pull up towards a big old warehouse just off the riverbank. Low streetlights gather around the building giving some light through the dark night. The building looks dark and empty all for except one lite window on the first floor. I swing my leg over the bike and stand next to Lou while she fiddles with the helmet strap.

 "Where are we?"

 "My place, she's a little old and worn down on the outside but trust me, wait until you see the inside"

 I laugh once in disbelief before closing my mouth with a frown at her serious expression.

 "Wait you're serious, this is your place"

 "Come on, I really don't want her bleeding out on my couch"

 That snaps me out of my disbelief.

 "What! Where is she?!" I quickly turn towards the entrance and speed ahead already going into work mode.

 I can hear Lou quickly falling into step next to me chuckling lightly as I step up to the entrance. Once Lou opens the door, I'm shocked to see Debbie lying on an expensive black sofa with a white bandage wrap around her arm with a large red stain in the middle of it.

 I quickly walk over while trying to assess the situation: she's wide awake and still seems to be with it as she talks to a beautiful blonde woman beside her, who seems to be fretting over her. Debbie looks up at the sound of me rushing over and looks relieved.

 "She got you to come, thank god. This scratch is killing me and honestly I'm starting to see two of tam-tam and that's enough to give me nightmares"

 "Hey! Next time I'll let you bleed out" the woman dubbed tam-tam sulks as she steps aside for me to take her place. I start to unwrap the bandage from around her bicep.

 "Jesus that's a gunshot graze! Why aren't you at the hospital!" I accused sending Lou a filthy look - the nursing side of me disapproving the recklessness.

 Lou throws her hands up in mocking surrender while shaking her head.

 "She didn't want to draw attention, so I thought of the next best thing"

 "Me?! Lou I'm a paediatric nurse I soothe and help children with conditions or fevers not fucking gunshot wounds"

 "Technically it's a graze" everyone says in unison. That's when I realise the others in the room, all sat quietly watching on in anticipation.

 I gape at them all before turning my attention back to my wounded patient.

 "Okay Tammy, is it? I need you to keep applying pressure to the area. The bleeding has slowed down but you gotta keep the pressure okay - you did a great job keeping the bleeding under control"

 "Thanks, I used the tourniquets" she says panicked.

 "That's really great, okay just keep the pressure on that wound"

 "Ow!"

 "Stop being a baby Deb"

 I turn to Lou and gesture to the med kit. She quickly hands it over, once I've removed the gauze from the box I turn to the remaining women in the room.

 "If you could go and grab any old shirts or towels to help Tammy with keeping the pressure going, oh and some water with painkillers please"

 "You got it sis" the girl with dreads says before dragging the others with her.

 "Okay I'm going to clean this up a little bit more and then I'm going to put the dressing on alright" I inform Debbie.

 "Do what you've got to do Y/N"

 I nod at her consent before proceeding to tend to the wound. From the corner of my eye I can see Lou relax and staring straight at me.

 So much for having a few restful days.

 ***

 After an hour of tending to Debbie's wound and making sure that it wasn't infected, I sit heavily onto the opposite sofa - the adrenaline from the night suddenly leaving my body. The other girls have already bid us all good night after being reassured by Lou and myself that Debbie will be okay for the night but is to go and get it checked out tomorrow after resting.

 "Y/N I -"

 "You know I could lose my job over this Lou"

 "That's not going to happen. Debbie is not gonna say anything trust me, she would never put you in that position especially after saving her ass. I.. we really appreciate it" her eyes lock with mine and suddenly I'm back in that stupid food truck again. I quickly break the contact at the sound of Debbie stirring on the long sofa and suddenly I remember the recent predicament I'm in.

 I clear my throat from the sudden dryness before making a stand. Lou quickly stands too and reaches out towards me making me step back.

 "I should go, if it looks like she's getting worse or um spikes a temp. Take her straight to ER"

 "Wait no this isn't happening again. I am speaking to you right now Y/N, you are not running away from me again before I have a chance to say my piece"

 That stops me in my tracks, her sudden frustration making me look at her properly for the first time since she turned up unexpectedly outside my apartment.

 "Fine you want to talk then let's talk. I know exactly where to begin"

 She looks relieved but I can see how reluctant she is to reveal more. 

 "Okay"

 "Do you want to explain to me exactly who you are Lou Miller, because I feel like I'm seeing one version of you - this successful business woman whose running a busy nightclub and owning food trucks and saving damsels in distress when there is so much more hiding behind that persona"

 "You're my only damsel, love" She grins sheepishly, hoping her attempt at flirting will ease the tension.

 "Not funny Lou"

 Her grin drops and her shoulders are slouched, she gestures back to my seat while grabbing two bottles of water from the refrigerator. She sets one Infront of me before unscrewing hers.

 "I'm not with Debbie Y/N I never was, I never have been with her. She's my partner sure but not romantically" I frown at this.

 "Business partners?" Lou grins slightly.

 "Sort of. We dabble in some businesses; we all have a variety of skills and backgrounds that helps us make a shit ton of money that we then... invest into"

 "So, all of you are partners?"

 "Pretty much"

 "What a strange mix of people" I say thoughtfully, thinking back to the last hour and finally introducing myself to the rest of the group. Wasn't Daphne an actress, isn't Constance a bit young to be hanging around with these people and what kind of name is Nine-Ball.

 "You ramble a lot, it's cute"

My eyes widen in embarrassment.

 "I said that out loud didn't I" I state cringing at the thought of making a fool out of myself in front of this woman again. She chuckles quietly as to not wake Debbie.

 "Yeah you did but to answer your questions: yes, she is, probably but she keeps things interesting and yeah it is but not as bad as what her real name is"

I chuckle slightly at her answers before remembering our previous conversation about her job.

 "So, when you said you dabble in business and make a shit ton of money, what does that mean exactly. Are you shareholders?" That makes Lou laugh out loud, just enough to make Debbie stir.

 "No darling, it means we're con artists"

 Shit!

***

[paperclipninja]

Lucifer post-ep ramble 5x01

Hi there, long time fangirl, first time Lucifan. After devouring all 4.5 seasons of this magnificent show in an impressive/alarming (all a matter of perspective) amount of time, I have very quickly found myself well and truly obsessed dedicated to all things Lucifer. And when a show grabs me like this one has, I tend to have a lot of thoughts and feelings that I can’t help but share, and so the post-ep ramble was born. It will probably contain many words, it may or may not be particularly coherent, there will definitely be over-analysing, but I thought I might indulge in re-capping the season 5 eps as I re-watch, so this is the first ramble off the rank. 

‘Really Sad Devil Guy’ (A+ ep name btw) kicks off as we’re still scrambling to pick up all our heart pieces after the season 4 finale, which is why Mr. Said Out Bitch (aka Lee Garner) being in Hell is such a cracker of an opening. Lucifer just waiting below deck on Fishizzle II (wth happened to Fishizzle I??) to greet him with his trademark ‘hello’ made me disproportionately happy, mostly because he was on my screen but also because his encounters with Mr. SOB are always great and this was no exception. Getting an insight into ‘life in Hell’, the way the characters in the Hell loops are played by Demons and Lucifer in action as the King was fab at this point in the series. And does anyone else have a visceral reaction to Lucifer stopping that bullet? I know it’s brief, I cannot explain it, it might be the command he has, the fact it’s awesome, but it makes me FEEL things. Just me? Cool.

I think what really strikes me in the way Lucifer just has to pop in on Mr. SOB upon hearing of his arrival, is the fact that he is a link to Lucifer’s life on Earth. They’ve existed in the same places there, breathed the same air, it’s a way for Lucifer to make that connection to his home more tangible. And when he realises where Mr. SOB’s hell loop has them moored, at Marina Del Ray, the way Lucifer says 'Los Angeles' with such yearning makes those heart pieces I had started cobbling back together really begin to ache. What this episode pulls off so brilliantly is the way Chloe and Lucifer remain connected despite being apart, and it’s all set up when Lucifer tells Mr. SOB, ‘You know, there's a good chance I know who's on your case. To them it's only been a few months, a blink of an eye, but here it's been much much longer’.

What’s happening ‘below deck’ in Hell (sorry...or am I?) is of course mirrored at the crime scene, where Maze is still calling Ella Ellen (never change Maze ILY) and Ella is banging on about Lucifer not responding to her DM’s and texts and it’s all so on brand and the thought of her sending Lucifer a clip of a parrot dancing to techno and him finding it funny is just too perf. Maze having Chloe’s back from the get-go and telling Ella to ‘read the room’ just shows how far this Demon has come. And of course Chloe saying that she hasn’t even really thought about Lucifer since he left...(spoiler alert: she has).

Seeing Maze and Chloe out drinking and dancing, somehow they're kinda dorky together and I love it, but it’s also really clear that they’re both leaning on each other pretty heavily and being there for one another and honestly, I love literally every combination of characters on Lucifer, you put any two together and the dynamic is 100% their own and these two are up there. It’s so weird seeing Amandiel running Lux, I big L LOVE Amenadiel but it’s just...wrong. Plus hats off to D.B. because his delivery of ‘No one sells drugs in my place...without me getting a piece of the action’, not gonna lie, I was THROWN.

So are we assuming that the number of months Lucifer has been gone = the number of times Chloe has rocked up to work with a hangover? Lol at the sunglasses but also, you do you Chloe, whatever you gotta do babe. Just like Amenadiel running Lux is like watching a slightly off AU version of the show, so is seeing Maze and Chloe as partners at work. Don’t get me wrong, Maze clearly supporting her and when they’re interrogating a lead, seeing Chloe and Maze have such a groove that they’re finishing each other's sentences and communicating without talking, I dig it. But I love that while it’s great, it still doesn’t feel right. Because that there is why this show is so clever, as an audience we crave the return to the way things were just as the characters we are watching do.

Linda being a completely OTT mum is so fab. I could write an entire essay about my Linda love. Her adamance that ‘Charlie’s special’ and Ella’s ‘every child is special in their mum’s eyes, huh?’ sums it up perfectly. Did I mention I adore Ella? I definitely get the distinct impression Ella is doing a bit of self-reflection, her comment about being drawn to the bad boys for some reason clearly foreshadowing, but also her reflecting that she deserves a good guy for once (just not this ep when there is a bad boy/potential suspect to be hooked up with). I am curious to see the ‘darkness’ Ella has alluded to in earlier seasons being explored further and feel like this is sowing the seeds and I’m also waiting for a significant Linda/Ella D&M at some point. But clearly not this point, because 'science lesson Wednesdays...I checked your schedule and that's your day off' Linda is NOT about deep and meaningfuls (or anyone who isn’t a 2 month old baby), you need to DIAL IT DOWN friend.  I love that it takes Trixie pulling some funny faces and Dan offering some sage parenting advice as he returns the self-help books (love the irony there) for Linda to begin to chill a bit.          

So Dan has gone all new age with his oils and self improvement and you know what? I love it. And then of course we have Amenadiel needing to help make the world a safer place, he just needs to make sure for Charlie ya know and ugh my ovaries. I must say, I was relieved to realise that the club life had not in fact corrupted the delightful warrior we all love after all - it’s all a ploy to catch a REAL BIG TIME drug dealer (nooooo I can feel the second hand embarrassment already...)! Amenadiel setting up the ‘drug bust’, telling the dealer, ‘looks like gooood drugs’, oh you dear sweet naïve Angel you. We of course discover that the bust is, well, a bust, because the ‘drug lord’ is actually a kid trying to offload his mum’s pain meds *insert facepalm emoii here*. But rather than ridicule or be angry, Dan is so understanding and supportive of Amenadiel and once again offers up advice and I really am so into this friendship on every level and the care and openness it models.

Meanwhile, the genius parallel between what is happening on Earth and in Hell really takes effect as Chloe and Maze go undercover (I mean, they are a glam couple lbh) to the poker game while Lucifer is at a game hosted by the same suspect in Mr. SOB’s ‘exquisite’ Hell loop. His exclamation that it’s exquisite reflects that Lucifer and Mr. SOB are not that different, that it’s the kind of place Lucifer might manifest as well, but I also feel that Lucifer could be admiring his own Kingdom’s handiwork at creating LA with such accuracy from someone’s subconscious. He allows himself to be absorbed in it, ‘City of Angels, I’ve missed you’, and I can’t help but get the impression that hearing Lucifer call LA this for the first time is confirmation that his Heaven, or place of Angels, is in fact there with Chloe.

Chloe remains firmly in the forefront of Lucifer’s mind this entire episode, with him asking ‘what would she do?’ and wanting to replicate the life he had with her at the precinct. But of course he is soon reminded of his reality, as he tries to get more information from Mr. SOB who is being useless. Lucifer incorrectly calling him ’Detective’ shatters the illusion that he is any closer to Chloe, and this is impressively emphasised as he erases the LA cityscape to reveal the Hellscape. For a moment he’d let himself believe he was back there. Back home. His, ‘you’re not her’ making some of my heart pieces fall out once again.

But then the messenger arrives, ‘Lord Morningstar, there’s someone you should meet’ and lo and behold it’s guy who just got hit by car up on the Earth-side of this investigation and I.am. loving. it. Also, did Lucifer put out a Hell-wide memo that if ANYONE arrives from LA they are to be bought to him so he can send messages to Chloe through their bodies??? NO REALLY I'M FINE. Having a Demon possess the dead dude’s body to pass on the tip from Lucifer was just TOO MUCH. His, ‘hey is that Mazikeen?’ made me actually lol but also, look how far we’ve come! Chloe doesn’t even flinch when the dead guy wakes up possessed to pass on Lucifer’s message. I’m so proud. 

'It's safe where you stored it' caused me way more amusement than was perhaps intended, but Ella, Maze and Chloe together, trying to figure out what it meant, it's such a great moment and the comedic timing is gold. Also, the fact it actually helps the case, ugh, Chloe and Lucifer are still connected and working together even though they are not on the same plane of existence and I’m just going to need to curl up for a minute because feelings.

You know who else is having a lot of feelings in this ep? The Devil himself. After he is satisfied he has passed on the message, he’s done with Mr. SOB, sending him, ‘back to your torture. And me to mine’. Any remnants of my heart are now once again shattered all over the floor in case you’re wondering. Lucifer doesn’t even try to hide the fact that being away from Chloe is so painful, almost revealing more than he ever usually would when Mr. SOB asks if she’s ‘somebody important?' to which he replies, 'more than you could ever know'. 

He only just stops himself before telling Mr. SOB her name, when he realises he's trying to manipulate him. And I'm so glad, Lucifer so sparingly uses Chloe’s name, it's always significant when he does and I feel like he reserves those moments for only between them. But Mr. SOB really does sum it up when he observes, ‘you just seem like a really sad Devil guy’, BECAUSE HE IS A REALLY SAD DEVIL GUY (can we just take a moment to appreciate how not at all scared of Lucifer Mr. SOB is, he doesn’t even refer to him as THE Devil, just ‘Devil guy’. It’s kind of nice that he sees and accepts him as both Devil and human without really questioning it). 

The parallel continues as Chloe and Lucifer are talking to a sister and brother  and the way this highlights the place they're both in. It's just brilliant writing and execution. Chloe is talking to Meg about her brother’s death and both her and Lucifer's yearning for one another is palpable. At the same time, Maze telling Chloe that they don’t need Lucifer and kissing Chloe highlights Maze’s desire for connection and love. She wants it so badly and the way she shuts down when Chloe suggests they stop working together breaks my heart.

When Lucifer takes Mr. SOB to the root of his Hell loop, yes, it’s about Lucifer projecting his own guilt and lack of self worth onto him, but his assertion that, 'it is inevitable sooner or later you're going to disappoint them all over again. So you'd rather stay away for all eternity’, really feels as though it carries multiple meanings. As a self-referential comment, is Lucifer talking about Heaven or Earth? Is it his fear of disappointing and letting down Chloe and the other humans or is it his belief that he disappointed his family? And if Angels self-actualise does that mean he was never 'stuck' in Hell at all and could have returned to Heaven? I certainly feel there is some sort of realisation occurring here. Or could be completely over-analysing it. Why not have both 🤷‍♀️

You know the line that just up and got me though? ‘Whose hell is this anyway? Are you sure this is my hell? You just here torturing yourself’- Mr. SOB calling Lucifer out is A MOMENT. And I can’t help but wonder if a part of it is Lucifer wanting Mr. SOB to come to terms with his own guilt, wanting to help him because he knows he’s not evil and he is trying to reconcile his own guilt too. If he can help Mr. SOB face and let go of the guilt then he has a chance of it too. And that’s when Mr. SOB challenges Lucifer, pointing out that he missed his chance, ‘but what about you?’ 'The self-centred simplicity of you humans never ceases to amaze me...I am here out of responsibility, I had to protect humanity, I had to protect HER', the delivery of this line, the frustration of being misunderstood, of ppl thinking that he acts for himself when his very reason for being back in Hell is for others, I can feel it through the screen.

The dead guy we saw get shot in the kitchen appearing at that moment with news about ‘the Detective’ and then cutting straight back to the shoot up in the house, file under: how to brilliantly edit. “Lucifer” appearing; the whistle, the casually strolling in, the ‘hello bad guys’ = I was FOOLED. I mean you have to admit, the ‘thought I'd give you a hand' pun was well played, classic Lucifer, very convincing.  My shipper heart was SO FULL for the split second Lucifer and the Detective kissed, until Chloe realised that something was off and her open eyes told us something was up. The cut back to Hell and seeing Lucifer still standing there with Mr. SOB...you may have heard my ‘noooooooo’ from wherever you are. ‘She’ll be just fine without me’...said every Devil who has a dick twin brother who’s going to try and destroy, nay STEAL, his life and love of his life ever.

Michael, you're an evil bastard but damn you nailed that villainous smirk over-the-shoulder pose in the final shot. Whatever you have in store, I will no doubt revel in your awfulness and be confused about whether or not I hate you. 

[mlovesstories]

Shake It Off Part 8

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

Words: 1909

@spngenrebingo​ square: secret admirer

Summary: YN decides to change careers, and she also finds trouble at her new job.

Warnings: stalker, danger, cussing, angst

Jensen, Danneel, YN, Jared, Gen, Gino, the kids.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Jensen engulfed his oldest daughter in a hug.

“Thanks, Jensen,” she put her arm over his in appreciation.

“How’s it feel to be 40?” Jensen snickered. YN pushed him off of her with a laugh.

“Shut up, ass.”

“I love you.” 

“And I love me too. Now can we move on? I have a question,” YN turned to face him.

“Okay…” Jensen slowly said.

“Can I work at the brewery?”

“Umm. What?” Jensen froze, shocked by what he thought was a random question.

“I’m tired of sitting in front of a damn computer. Please?”

“What brought this on?”

“It’s the family business, I guess. I want to interact with people, and I want to be a part of something bigger than me.” YN shrugged. “If it’s stupid, you can forget it.”

“No, I don’t think it’s stupid. I am honored that you would even ask. I’m not sure what positions are open, honestly. You’ll have to ask Dee, Gino or one of the managers.”

“But you’re okay with the idea?”

“You’re hard-working and my daughter, so yeah. Duh,” he grinned. “Please ask them. I would love to see you there.”

—————-

“Thanks for the picture, Jensen!” A fan waved and walked toward the parking lot of the brewery.  

“No problem, sweetheart,” he smiled.

“Wow, you deal with that all the time?” YN walked up to him with her official brewery logo shirt on.  

Jensen laughed.

“Eh.  Sometimes.  They are always sweet.  I don’t mind.  How’s work?” Jensen side-hugged her as not to drop her computer out of her hand.

“Good.  I’m updating the website a little bit.”

“You’re already messing up what we set up?” He squeezed her tightly.  

“It’s not bad!  I’m just making it easier for the users, that’s all.”

“YN!” Gino called.

“Yeah?” She turned away from Jensen.  

“I need you to fix something.  Let your kid work, Jay,” the younger man smirked.

“Right, sorry.  Have a good day, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Jensen.”

________

“Sissy!” JJ ran up to YN at the end of the day.  “You work with Mommy, Daddy, and Uncle Gino?”

“Yeah, see?  That’s my name!” YN squatted down in the brewery storage room.  She pulled the lanyard around her neck so that JJ could read it.  

“Cool!”

“You ready to go home?  Mommy and Daddy left already.  You get to ride with me today!”

“Really?  Yeah!”

“Okay, come on.”

On the ride home, JJ sang to the Frozen soundtrack.  YN laughed and joined in all the way back to the Ackles’ house.  As the two pulled into the driveway, JJ nodded off to sleep.  YN parked and unbuckled her little sister. Her body limp, JJ reached for YN.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.  You’re too big for me to carry you,” YN grunted as she picked up the little girl.  After locking her car doors, YN carefully entered the house.  

“Oh, I’ll take her,” Jensen walked over to YN quietly.  

“I got her.  If you could through this stuff over there, I’d appreciate it,” YN maneuvered her shoulders so that her purse and laptop bag slid down her arm.  Jensen took the items and leaned them against the wall.  YN slowly carried JJ up the stairs.  “Let’s get you changed for bed.”

“No,” JJ whined. She resisted in her groggy state,

“Fine,” YN laughed.  “Get under your covers.  Good night, JJ.” YN kissed the little girl’s forehead.  

“Nigh-nigh, sissy.”

YN turned off JJ’s light and walked down the stairs.  

“Hey, YN!”  Jared stood up from the couch and walked toward her with a beer in his hand.  “How are you?” He wrapped his arms around her.

“Good, you?” She returned his hug with a squeeze around his waist. “I need one of those,” YN laughed.

“Here,” Jared walked to the fridge.

“No, I’m good.  I was being facetious. I don’t drink on work nights.”

“Oh.  Never mind then.” He shut the refrigerator.

“How you doing?” YN walked back with Jared to the couch.  

“Fine.  I’m finally through increasing my meds for the gazillionth time,” he huffed.  “The side-effects have been hard.”

“But you’re feeling better? More stable with the symptoms and all that?”

“Yeah. It’s good.”

“There you are!” Jensen and Danneel walked into the living room after changing into their pajamas.

Danneel hugged her and sat down next to YN.

“Good day?”

“Yeah. Everything's just new. But it’s good. I’m just tired.”

“Are you putting yourself first?” Jared asked sincerely.

“Yeah. I think so. Been working out. Just trying to balance the new schedule. Speaking of which, I need some sleep.” YN stood.

“It’s 9pm!” Jared laughed.

“I have to be up at 5! That’s eight hours. I need my beauty sleep. I don’t have makeup artists to make me look good.” She stuck her tongue out at them. “See you all tomorrow. Love you.”

————-

“What are you doing up so early?” YN trudged into the house to get some food. She saw Jensen sitting on a stool at the island.

“Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d make you breakfast.” He rubbed his eyes.

“That’s sweet. Thanks.” He stood to grab some eggs from eggs from the fridge.  

The two talked about the brewery and how YN liked her job.  She explained that it was all still new and different,  but she enjoyed it overall.  

“Why are you going in so early? Gino doesn’t get there til midmorning.

“He said if I come in early, I can go home early.  So, if I go in at seven, I can leave at three unless something comes up.”

“No nine-to-five for you?” Jensen smirked.

“Nah.  Early bird.”

YN heard her phone ring.  She looked quizzically at Jensen.  When YN pulled out it out of her pocket, she saw Gen’s picture on the screen.

“What the hell?” She showed Jensen.  “Hey Gen, it’s early.  Is something wrong?”

“I’m in New York, but Jared is having a panic attack at home, and I can’t calm him down.  Are you home?”

“Oh, no.  Okay.  Yeah, I am.  Where are the kids?”

“In bed.  I called the nanny and asked her to get them to school.  She’s on her way.  I think Jared is still in our room, can you go check on him?”

“Absolutely.  Call you later.” YN hung up quickly.  “You wanna come?  Do you have a key to their house?” She asked Jensen.  

“Yeah. Dee’s here.  Let’s go.”

When they entered the master bedroom, Jared’s eyes were wide, and his body was frozen.  

“Hey, Jared,” YN said slowly and calmly.  “What happened?”

“Bad dream that I had a seizure,” Jared breathed shallowly.  “I think I’m okay though.”

“That’s good.  You need anything?” Jensen walked closer to his friend.  

“The kids…”

“Nanny’s coming.  Don’t worry about it.  Would you like for us to stay with you?” YN asked.

“Until the nanny comes,” he sighed.

“Okay.  No problem,” YN sat down in a chair near the bed.  Jensen did the same.  

“I think I’ll be okay though.”

“You’re doing great, buddy,” Jensen supported his friend.  

_________

“He’s fine. Jensen is with him. I had to go to work. He’s calm now.”

“”Good. Thank you,” Gen said through the car radio system.

“No problem. I’m at work, I gotta go,” YN said goodbye.

YN walked through the back of the brewery quickly after an urgent phone call to come in.

“What happened?”

Gino carried his laptop.

“We got hacked.”

“I just updated the security!”

“I know. I can’t tell you what happened,” Gino places his computer on the bar. “See?”  He turned his computer toward her as she dropped her personal belongings on the ground.

“Damn.” She brought his laptop closer to her. “What- the-”

“What?” Gino stood behind her to see what YN was looking at.

“The code.  The hack.  It was meant for me.”

“Again… what?” Gino grew frustrated.

“It’s a note for me.  It says I need to stay out of the way.”

“Of what?  That’s complicated and targeted. What did we get involved with?”

“I’m not sure, boss.  I’m not sure.”

________

“You aren’t serious?  What did you do?  You said you were going to upgrade it!” Jensen screamed over the phone.  

“It’s not my fault!  Someone is coming after me!  The code has my name in it!”

“Come home then.  You’ll be safe here.”

��I’m calling the cops,” Gino yelled across the dining room.  

“Gino is calling the police.  I can’t leave right now.”

“Fine.  Dee ran out to the store, so I’m the only one with the kids.”

“Gino’s here.  I’m sure he can handle it.”

“Promise me you’ll have Gino lock the gates to the property once the cops come. And you stay inside no matter what.”

“Jensen…”

“Do it!” Her dad yelled.  

“I’ll do it, promise.  I gotta go.  I can hear the sirens.  Thanks, Jensen.  I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

She hung up.  

______

“I’m home!” YN ran into the Ackles’ home.  She saw Danneel with tears in her eyes and Jensen solemnly standing next to her.  Danneel ran into YN’s arms and squeezed her tightly.  

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Danneel looked her over and watched the younger one’s face.

“I’m okay.  I promise.  Are you okay?”

“I’m angry someone threatened you.  I’m so sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have let you work at the brewery.  This is my fault,” Jensen growled, protective of his daughter.  

“Don’t pull that shit.  You don’t get to blame yourself. Not now.  For whatever reason this happened, and I-” YN froze and her eyes went wide.  She started falling to the ground, but Danneel was able to catch her and guide her to the floor.  

“YN!” Jensen ran to stand over her.

“I think it’s the anxiety kicking in,” YN slowly whispered.  “I was doing okay, but-”

“Shh.  Can I lift you up and guide you to the couch?” Jensen asked his daughter.  

“Yes, please.”  Once Jensen got her comfortable, she said, “I’m okay.  I didn’t mean to scare you guys.  I’m sorry.”

“You are not going anywhere without somebody with you, you understand?” Danneel ordered.

“What?”

“Your life was basically threatened and now you’re anxious.  It’s just precautionary,” Danneel soothed.  

“I don’t need a babysitter,” YN groaned.  

“Yes.  Now you’re planted here until further notice,” Jensen demanded.  

“Whatever,” YN rolled her eyes.  She stood up and tried to exit the back door when Jensen slid between her and the door.  

“In OUR house.  Not the guest house.  You’re not going to be alone until we figure this out.”

“Seriously?” YN’s shoulders sagged.  “Can I go get some clothes, at least?”

“I’m coming with you,” he opened the door to exit the house.

“Ugh,” she dramatically groaned.

________

“You can take your old room if you want.  Just- please don’t go rogue.” Danneel smiled.  

“I won’t, promise.”

“What the hell happened?”

The ladies turned to see Jared stomping toward them.  

“Jared?”

“Somebody wants to hurt you.  Are you okay?” He put a hand on her arm.

“Yes, I’m fine.  I’m always fine.  Leave me alone.” YN pushed his hand off of her.  “I need a nap.  I’m exhausted.  I know you have to get the kids soon.  Please don’t tell them.  I don’t want them to be scared.”

“Yeah, go rest.  Don’t worry about the little ones,” Danneel assured her.  “Jared and I can go get the kids while Jensen stays here with you.”

“I’m fine- please.  I’ll stay in the house.”

“Get. Your Ass. Upstairs,” Jensen said lowly.  

“Whatever.  Warden.” 

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

SPN Genre Bingo (including Shake It Off)

@spnsuper17​

  Forever Friends (Everything):

@katymacsupernatural  

@unicornblood4ever  

@ellie-andthemachine 

@fangirl-moment-x  

@empirialwolf

@winchesters-favorite-girl  

@super100012  

@waywardnewcomer  

@percywinchester27  

@waywardsuns  

@supernatural-jackles  

@mcallmestiles 

@mandyreese 

@sdavid09  

@kingandrear  

@bellero

@rosiewinchester​

@seality​​​​​ 

@blogsnowflakeme​​​ 

@jaycc7983​

@luci-in-trenchcoats​​​ 

@cherryblossom1997​​ 

@because-you-never-know-when​ 

@lauren-novak​ 

@sleepylunarwolf​ 

@fainthearteddaisy​

@choosemyname​ 

@internationalmusicteacher​

@mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ 

@find-sammys-shoe​ 

@encounterthepast​

@spn-tw-37​

@torn-and-frayed​ 

@dreaminemz​

@giggles1026​

@xiumin-girl99​

@bertiemaklinn​

@encounterthepast​

@strangedeerconnoisseur​ 

@iamnerdperson 

@sbcamp08​

@mangueweaschester​

@idksupernaturalman​ 

@skylarraker​

@monkeymcpoopoo​ 

@silverstripe101a​

@thevelvetseries​

@jennawinchester152a​

@samsgirl93​

[choerrypuffs]

hello! may i request barista!xiaojun trying to make medstudent!reader feel better while studying for exams but he does it awkwardly and cute?? i love your works esp. that billionaire!kun angst sksjs

anonymous said: YOUR TAEYONG AU WAS SO CUTE MY H E A R T 😁😁😁 can i request something as cute as that for xiaojun? perhaps even another neighbor au heheh–but you dont have to if you dont want to! i would just like some fluffy xiaojun :))

pairing: bartender!xiaojun x med student!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6k

author’s note: two requests for xiaojun in a row, wow this really is his world and we’re just living in it 

With each page turn, you feel a little bit of your sanity leave you.

You’ve been cooped up in your dorm for the past week, studying for the absolute hell that is finals week. You’re running on four hours of sleep and hell of a lot of caffeine. Day and night have just been blending together and you genuinely have no concept of time anymore. Your roommate has been staying with her boyfriend more often, which leaves you and your misery all alone with no one to vent to.

This must be what solitary confinement feels like, you think to yourself.

Once you read the same sentence for the tenth time in a row, you finally give up and slam your anatomy textbook closed. It’s only 11:20 PM, so you decide to go out for some fresh air. Just the thought of being in this room any longer makes you feel suffocated.  

You don’t bother changing out of your sweatpants and t-shirt, simply throwing a light jacket over it. You’re not sure when you last washed your hair so you tease it up into a ponytail. Shooting your roommate a quick text (though you’re pretty sure she’s not going to see it), you grab your wallet and keys and head out. 

The night air feels cool when it hits you and you close your eyes, relishing the breeze. You begin to wander aimlessly around the neighborhood, trying to procrastinate going back as much as possible. After a while, you eventually stop in front of a bar. 

You aren’t much of a drinker because you really don’t have the time to be one. When you do drink once in a blue moon, it’s usually with your roommate on the floor of your room. Just once, you’d like to have that experience of getting blackout drunk at a bar and dealing with a nasty hangover instead of blacking out after pulling an all-nighter studying and dealing with staying awake in your 8 AM chemistry class.

Squaring your shoulders and straightening your back, you confidently push open the doors and walk in. You expect a loud club-like scene with a bunch of people dancing on top of each other, but that’s not what you get at all. The place is low-lit with jazzy music playing, and there’s barely any people here. Instead of a dance floor, there’s a big pool table in the middle of the room. The bar is all the way in the back, and you awkwardly navigate past a tipsy couple playing pool to get to it.

There’s only one person sitting at the bar, an elderly man wearing a suit. He’s chatting jovially with the bartender, swirling the drink in his hand around. You can tell by the way they’re talking that they are very comfortable with each other, and you almost feel a little bad for intruding. The bartender hears you approaching and looks up. You nearly trip over your own feet when you make eye contact with him.

He’s so good-looking that you’re honestly a little intimidated. Dark, messy hair that falls into his eyes, features that are on par with any model, and looks damn good in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. You kind of just want to run away, but he’s already seen you so it’s too late.

“What can I get you?” he asks, smiling politely. His nametag reads Xiaojun.

You sigh, shrugging. “Something that’ll make me forget, or take off my pants.” 

Xiaojun stares at you, clearly not expecting that answer. The elderly man laughs, a big belly laugh that makes you involuntarily smile. “Darlin’, that would be tequila.”

“Then I’ll have that,” you nod. 

“First time here?” Xiaojun asks, shooting a stern glance at the elderly man.

“How could you tell?” you joke.

“Just a hunch,” he chuckles, “anyways, I don’t think tequila is what beginners should start with.”

“I’ll drink whatever you give me. I just want to get drunk,” you respond, shrugging.

“Rough night?” Xiaojun looks up at you as he begins to make your drink.

“You could say that,” you sigh again, propping your face up on the counter top with your palm.

“I’m all ears if you want to talk about it, um…” 

“Y/N,” you supply, “and thanks. I’m sure I’ll go on some drunken tirade anyways, so be prepared.”

The elderly man is quiet as the two of you chat, a knowing smile across his face. He finishes the rest of his drink before clearing his throat, taking his brief case from the seat beside him. Placing some bills on the counter top, he says, “Anyways, I gotta get going. The missus is waiting for me back home.” 

“So soon?” Xiaojun asks, surprised.

“Yup,” he replies, “I’ll see you later, Xiaojun.” 

“Alright, be careful.” 

The man turns to leave and you wave him goodbye. He winks at you as he gets out of his seat, and you’re confused as to why but you smile at him anyway.

“Here’s your drink,” Xiaojun says, setting a glass in front of you. 

The concoction is red at the very bottom before it turns light pink at the top, like an ombré effect. You can’t help but marvel at how beautiful it is (just like him). 

“Wow,” you breathe, “it’s so pretty.” 

“It’s called Love Affair,” he explains, before turning red and immediately beginning to splutter. “U-Um, the name is weird but it’s my favorite drink, so uh…”

“Thank you,” you say, smiling at how flustered he is. You bring the glass to your lips and take a sip. It burns slightly, but you don’t particularly hate the feeling. It’s tangy, like a citrus fruit but also a little sweet. 

“How is it?” Xiaojun asks, a touch of anxiousness in his expression. 

“I like it,” you say, drinking more. 

“I’m glad,” he beams, looking both relieved and proud. 

It doesn’t take you long to finish it, and he makes you some of his other favorites. You feel the buzz get progressively stronger, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re drunk. Xiaojun can tell too because the drinks he gives you becomes more and more diluted with each glass. He’s in the middle of making your fifth drink when the rational part of your brain finally logs out.

“Do you ever feel like giving up and just becoming a homeless person for the rest of your life?” you ask, slightly slurring. 

Xiaojun looks up, amused. Your face is flushed and your hands are on your warm cheeks as you just barely manage to prop yourself up. Whether it’s intentional or not, you’re slightly swaying back and forth to the background music. You look absolutely adorable and he feels his heart rate quicken. 

“Actually, I have,” he says truthfully. “Why?”

“Well, I currently feel like that right about now,” you confess, “and it sucks.” 

“Did something particular happen?” he asks gently. 

“I’m a med student,” you explain, “and finals are coming up. I’ve been studying nonstop, but it feels like nothing is sticking. It’s just―so much is banking on these exams and I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I fail. How on Earth am I gonna pay back my student loans? What if I become one of those losers that live in their parents’ basement because they can’t get a job? What if I become a beggar on the side of the streets?” 

You don’t realize you’re crying until Xiaojun gently dabs your tears away with a napkin. You’re embarrassed but not nearly as much as you would be if you were sober. Sniffling, you try to apologize but he doesn’t let you. 

“Look at me,” he says gently, cupping your face with his hands and slightly squishing your cheeks together. His hands feel cool against your skin. “I’ve felt exactly the same before, but you know what? It’ll pass. Don’t freak yourself out. Study hard like you have been, and you will do just fine. Make sure to take breaks too. Oh, and don’t go to bars during the middle of exam season either.”

You laugh, slightly leaning into his touch. Xiaojun looks down at your lips, and for a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you before he steps back and takes his hands away from your face. You pout as he does. 

“Right,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat, “you’ve had enough drinks. I’ll call you a cab, so go home.” 

You whine, but he’s not having it. Once you realize your sulking isn’t going to work, you huff loudly and fish out your wallet. “How much do I owe you?” 

“Nothing,” he replies, “it’s on the house. As a good luck to your exams.”

You smile at him. “You’re very sweet, Xiaojun.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a pink tinge to his cheeks. You try to get up, but your legs feel like jelly, and you fall back into your seat again. Xiaojun immediately is at your side, wrapping your arm around his shoulders as he helps you leave. He manages to get a cab within minutes and even shoves some money in your hands for the fare. 

“For more good luck,” he says, grinning. 

You want him to kiss you so badly that you blurt, “Kiss me. For even more good luck.

Xiaojun’s eyes widen, and it’s cute, but his response is less so. “I can’t. You’re drunk.” 

Damn him for being a gentleman. 

“But…maybe tomorrow,” he promises, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

The cab driver honks, and Xiaojun quickly ushers you in the car. He waves at you as you drive away. When you can no longer see him anymore, you let out the breath you’ve been holding and lean back. You can’t tell if your face is warm from the alcohol or something else.

[simpsonsnight]

Episode #662

WHAT THIS?

Crystal Blue-Haired Persuasion Season 30 - Episode 23 | May 12 2019 Wow, this might easily be the most self-referential week’s worth of episodes that I’ve ever covered. Very special. But first I’ll talk about the episode. Marge gets into healing crystals after losing insurance for Bart’s ADD meds. It’s funny to see season 11's “Brother’s Little Helper” come full circle: what was once a fertile subject for satire is now a just a fact of life. Makes you think! I guess! Illeana Douglas, famous for appearing in a Chasing Amy deleted scene, plays a healing crystal store owner who joins a cult and allows Marge to sell off the rest of her inventory. Marge becomes rich, Homer becomes a house husband, Marge feuds with another healing crystal store, and then I guess it ends. This one isn’t particularly good, but I still maintain that the technical quality of these HD shows is rather good. There are some fairly lame bits, like when Marge is reeling off a list of side-effects of some inferior ADD drug she has to put Bart on it keeps cutting back to Bart exhibiting those effects in rapid succession. It’s fairly groanworthy. A Simpsons sequence that relies entirely on the strength of it’s animation is usually a dud. If you find yourself wondering how a scene like this is any different from Homer going through the stages of grief in season 2 it’s because that scene is sold by a combination of the animation, the vocal performance, and the true characterization of Homer who is an impulsive, easily-manipulated oaf, going through each stage of grief merely from the power of suggestion. It’s a much stronger joke because of that! Okay, so here’s the part where I marvel at how connected this week’s episodes have been. Basically, everything flows backwards to Homer the Heretic. Season 8′s El Viaje Misterioso de Nuestro Jomer (The Mysterious Voyage of Homer) features “Short Shorts” by the Royal Teens, also used in Homer the Heretic. Season 12′s New Kids on the Blecch features backwards talk. Nelson laughs backwards in Homer’s hallucinatory state (okay this is the one that’s a bit of a stretch but otherwise New Kids on the Blecch is the lone hold out) Season 17′s See Homer Run is father’s day themed. It also features a couch gag that shows the Simpsons in a human zoo on Kang and Kodo’s home planet. Season 21′s Moe Letter Blues is Mother’s Day themed. It features the song “I’ll Always Love My Mama” by the Intruders at the end. Season 26′s The Man Who Came to Be Dinner features Kang and Kodos kidnapping the Simpsons and putting them in a human zoo on their home planet, expanding on See Homer Run’s couch gag. And finally, this episode, which I watched with baited breath looking for connections. There are two! A reprise of “I’ll Always Love My Mama” in one scene, and a non-speaking cameo from the Space Coyote from El Viaje Misterioso de Nuestro Jomer during a dream/fantasy sequence. Amazing. THE B-SODE:

Rick and Morty: "Edge of Tomorty: Rick Die Rickpeat" Season 4 - Episode 1 | November 10, 2019 *SIGH* okay I picked a B-SODE that I actually want to/have been meaning to watch. Morty goes nuts this time dawg. Rick does stuff. Season 4 premiere broh. I was pretty up on Rick & the Morties for season 3 but season 4 has so far completely passed me by. I think because I thought I wasn’t supposed to watch it without my wife who is the actual mega Rick & Morty fan between the two of us, but SHE let it slide citing that she wanted to watch all 5 episodes. I honestly have no idea if she ever did watch these. I had a friend who said the premiere was underwhelming but I gotta say, this episode was hilarious/great. You gotta watch Rick and Morty, Morty!!!!! ! Oh yeah I should say what happens in this. Morty gets himself a death crystal, which tells the holder how they’ll die if they start doing a thing or not doing a thing. And he becomes obsessed with one particular outcome where he dies as an old man, being comforted by Jessica, his crush, and he lets the crystal guide him towards that outcome, creating mayhem everywhere. He does some “Van Damage” as Jeremy Renner said in National Lampoon’s Senior Trip. Remember that movie? Kevin McDonald is in it! NOTE: I was trying to get a very good screen shot of this episode but for some reason the hi-res version of it was password protected on some blog, so I clicked visually similar images and got this screen shot from DOUG and it made me laugh so I’m using it instead. Sorry!

[mullettj]

in your bloodstream (a collision of atoms)

a tyrus spider-man au

chapter two: elevate

← previous chapter

-

It gets weirder.

Cyrus should have expected this, honestly, or at least considered it, but he's still thrown off when TJ Kippen himself sits at his lunch table on Monday. “Hey, Underdog,” he says lightly as he sets his muffin down on the table.

Cyrus blinks at him. “How did you get that muffin? I thought they were out.” Good one, Cyrus. Priorities.

TJ snorts. “I have my ways.” He breaks it in half, cocking an eyebrow at Cyrus. “Want some?”

Cyrus starts to say no, but his stomach growls like the traitor it is, so he just nods slowly. TJ hands him half of the muffin, smirking. “What?” Cyrus says, because he has no idea what goes on in TJ’s head.

“Nothing,” is all TJ says before switching gears so fast it gives Cyrus metaphorical whiplash. “I have something important to ask you.”

Cyrus looks at him funny. “Okay.”

TJ leans in closer, draping his arm around Cyrus’ shoulders and leaning into his side as he whispers, “What's your superhero name?”

Cyrus stares at him for a solid minute as TJ’s conspiratorial smile slowly slides off of his face. “I don't have one?” Cyrus eventually says, but it sounds more like a question. Should he have one?

“Why not?”

“I’m…not a superhero,” Cyrus clarifies, like that's necessary. It's pretty obvious he isn't the type to fight crime on the weekends. Isn't it?

“Well, no,” TJ agrees, and it stings for a second before he follows it with a, “but you could be.”

Cyrus jiggles his leg underneath the table, a nervous habit he's had since he was a kid. He wishes it would stop. “Could I?” he asks, because even if he's never pictured himself as much of the vigilante type, deep down everyone wants to save the world. Cyrus just always figured he'd do it by finding a cure for Alzheimer’s, or something. This is a much more direct route. (And a lot cheaper, too. Med school is ridiculous.)

“Fuck yeah you could,” TJ says, beaming at him. “I told you I'd help you.”

Cyrus considers it. On the one hand, it would be pretty amazing to be an actual, real life superhero like the ones he reads about in comics and sees on the news. Which, actually, hold on. Speaking of superheroes on the news… “Oh my god. You're the Scarlet Spider.”

TJ’s face instantly morphs into a look of panic, eyes going wide as he clamps a hand over Cyrus’ mouth. “Not so loud, Underdog, I don't want the whole fucking school to know.” Cyrus nods, and TJ drops his hand. “Plus, you already knew that.”

Cyrus shrugs, a little dazed. “I guess it never really sunk in till now. I’ve seen you on TV a couple times, and I -”

“Only a couple?” TJ sounds mildly offended. “I'm on the news at least once a week, and I do a ton more shit that they don't even cover. Do you even know how many damn cats I’ve had to get out of trees for little old ladies only to realize it's not even their cat?”

“Uh,” Cyrus says intelligently. “No. I thought that only happened in movies.”

TJ lets out a breathy laugh. “You probably thought regular ass high schoolers becoming superheroes only happened in movies too, right?”

Cyrus nods, and TJ just gestures vaguely to the both of them, eyebrows raised. “Okay, okay. Point taken.” He rolls his eyes, but his smile ruins the effect. “Anyway, as I was saying, when I saw your alter ego on the news I never thought it would be someone I knew. Or, well, knew of.”

TJ’s stupid smirk is back. God. He's gotta be doing this on purpose. “You know me now.” Cyrus isn't sure if that's a good thing or not. He has a lot of combating emotions at the moment.

First there’s the fact that TJ Kippen has always been cute, and talented, and funny, and basically the perfect recipe for the surprisingly softhearted jock that Cyrus inevitably falls in love with only to find out he is, tragically, straight. And now, there's also the fact that TJ is the Scarlet Spider, which either makes him even more perfect or ruins the whole image, Cyrus can't decide which. Plus he's offering to help Cyrus join him in his masked late night escapades, which Cyrus is conflicted about for a lot of reasons. Namely, he isn't sure if he even wants to be a superhero, or if he just wants to hang out with TJ, or both, or neither. It’s just a lot to take in. Especially in a crowded cafeteria.

Cyrus’ internal monologue is interrupted by TJ saying, “So, you in?”

Cyrus is probably going to regret this, but he takes a deep breath and says, “I’m in,” before he can talk himself out of it.

TJ’s smile is absolutely stunning. Like, seriously, it kind of hurts to look at it’s so enthusiastic. Cyrus fears for TJ’s facial muscles. “Sweet. Meet me on the roof tonight at 9?”

Cyrus gives him a much more subdued smile, but it's genuine all the same. “I’ll be there.”

TJ nods just as the bell rings, and they stand to put their trays back and throw away their trash. Once they're halfway out the double doors and into the hallway, TJ turns to him. “Is it cool if I bring someone? I want you to meet him.”

Cyrus has no fucking idea what that could possibly be implying, but he’s quickly learning it’s best not to read too much into the things TJ says. Or well, he could, but he’d just be setting himself up for a lot of headaches. “Yeah, that's fine.”

“Cool,” TJ says as he swats him on the chest affectionately. “See you tonight, Underdog. Think about your hero name!”

Cyrus watches TJ meander off to his next class and wonders what he's just gotten himself into.

-

Cyrus still isn't sure he's cut out for this.

He's standing on his rooftop for the second time in a week, and it's way colder up here than it was the other night, and he's stressed because he doesn't know what TJ has planned or who he's bringing. Usually, Cyrus works out all the little details before he does anything, but TJ doesn't really seem to be the planning type of person. Cyrus just kind of got swept into all of this, not that he doesn't want to be here.

Well, he thinks he wants to be here. He’ll decide if that's true when it's over.

Either way, TJ lands on the roof just a few feet away just like he did last time, but tonight he isn't wearing his mask. Just the suit and the hood. “Hey,” he says nonchalantly as he walks up to Cyrus. “You ready?”

Cyrus doesn't know how to answer that. “Ready for what?”

“For training, duh,” TJ says with a sparkle in his eye that makes Cyrus think he's made a mistake for meeting TJ up here. He’s pretty instigating, after all.

“Uhm, sure,” Cyrus says super confidently and his voice totally doesn't crack, not at all.

“Awesome. What do you wanna do first?” TJ pulls on the strings of his hoodie, tightening the hood around his face while he thinks. Yeah, he's definitely an idiot. “We could do web swinging, or wall climbing - oh shit, we should do backflips!” He lets go of the strings, pulling his hood back so Cyrus can see his blinding smile.

“Backflips?” Cyrus nearly chokes on the word. “I can't even do a somersault.”

TJ tilts his head like a confused puppy. Cyrus hates how cute it is, not that he's ever going to admit that. “You can't do a somersault?”

“No.” Cyrus is pretty sure he's blushing at this point. At least it's dark, so hopefully by some miracle TJ doesn't notice. He's oblivious anyway, Cyrus probably doesn't need to worry about it.

“I can help you with that,” is all TJ says before grabbing Cyrus’ hand and pulling him to the middle of the roof. He nudges Cyrus into position as he explains. “Okay, you're gonna lean forward - tuck your head in, land on your shoulders when you move - and use your arms to brace yourself when you push forward with your legs. Make sure to keep your shoulders straight and protect your head so you don't hurt yourself. Got it?”

Cyrus stares at him from where he's crouching on the ground. “Not really, no.”

TJ gives him a look that Cyrus can't read, but it almost looks teasing. “Just try it, Underdog.”

TJ steps out of the way, and Cyrus focuses on the ground in front of him like his life depends on it. He really doesn't want to humiliate himself by messing up something this simple when he's supposedly going to become a superhero. (What kind of hero can't even do a damn somersault? It's so easy for most people.) He just bites the bullet, so to speak, and pushes forward, bracing himself for the inevitable tumble that his attempts at somersaulting always result in.

Except it never comes. He doesn't fall. For the first time in his life, he actually does a somersault all the way through.

He just sits there for a second after, processing it, then he's jumping up and raising his arms in victory and TJ is giving him a celebratory chest bump and they're both being loud and borderline obnoxious as they cheer into the night sky. At some point TJ picks Cyrus up and spins him around, and it's all way too dramatic for a stupid somersault but Cyrus is proud of himself and he’s having fun. And it seems like TJ is, too.

After they've exhausted themselves with all the shouting and jumping around, Cyrus sits on the rooftop and looks up at the stars. TJ flops onto his back beside him, and his voice is so soft Cyrus can barely hear it when he says, “I’m proud of you.”

Cyrus hums. “Thanks, Teej.”

TJ smiles at the nickname. “Y’know, that's the closest you've ever come to actually saying my name.”

“Not true. I just called you the Scarlet Spider at lunch.”

“That doesn't count. I mean my real name.”

Cyrus lays back so he's right next to TJ, shoulders almost touching. He turns his head, and he’s surprised to see TJ already looking back at him. He feels like TJ can see into his soul. “You don't call me Cyrus, either.”

One corner of TJ’s mouth quirks up a little higher, leaving his smile lopsided and irritatingly perfect. He runs a hand through his hair, which is all fucked up anyway from the wind whipping it around his face. Cyrus has noticed that TJ doesn't gel his hair when he's the Scarlet Spider, probably because the mask would ruin it anyway. He looks better like this, more approachable. “I’ll call you Cyrus if you want me to, but you'll always be Underdog to me.”

Cyrus isn't sure how to take that, or how TJ wants him to take it, so he shrugs as well as he can while laying half on his side. “Call me whatever you want,” he says quietly.

“What is everyone else gonna call you?” TJ props himself up on an elbow so he isn't holding his neck in an awkward position anymore. “When you're saving the world, I mean.”

Cyrus looks up at him, furrowing his brow. “Well, I was thinking -”

He's cut off by someone else stepping onto the roof, the door to the stairs swinging loudly on its rusty hinges. Cyrus sits up abruptly, head swiveling to see who would possibly come up here at 9:30 on a Monday night, or ever for that matter. The guy walks into the glow of the lights from the surrounding buildings, but it doesn't help, because he's wearing all black and a mask. Cyrus can't make out any identifiable features, which is probably the point, but still.

He walks over to them, and Cyrus is considering his options (push the guy off the roof vs. making a run for it and seeing who can reach the stairs faster) but TJ seems unperturbed by their visitor. He even gives the guy a bro nod. Cyrus’ eyes just keep darting back and forth between the two of them.

The guy pulls off his mask, tossing it playfully at TJ, who calls him a dumbass and tells him he's late. Wait. Is this the person TJ wanted Cyrus to meet?

TJ just sticks his hand out, and when Cyrus takes it, TJ pulls him up to his feet. TJ slings his arm around Cyrus’ shoulders as the guy flips his shaggy blonde hair out of his face. They all just stand there for like, thirty seconds, and Cyrus isn't sure what they're waiting for.

He breaks the silence with a very articulate, “Hey.” He pauses, glancing at TJ before turning back to the guy. “Who are you?”

[thethespacecoyote]

Did the prompt for day 5 of the omegaverse challenge! “Protective instincts” with some semi-badass Rhys!

Rhys is very tired.

Being Jack’s PA can hardly be called a thankless job—the pay is better than anything he could’ve hoped for back when he was first interning, not even when he and Vaughn had high hopes not yet crushed by middle-of-the-pack drudgery—and honestly as much as common sense tells not to date one’s boss, Rhys feels it makes things easier. There’s no fear of airlock or random strangling or anything like that that hangs above the necks of everyone else who works at Helios. At this point, Rhys is a part of Jack—his right hand man, at this point crucial to his success and function as Hyperion’s apex alpha—and as cruel as Jack can be Rhys has a hopeful feeling he won’t harm someone he considers so intimately his.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t be an obtuse, self-centered asshole who fucks Rhys over on accident.  

Jack had “forgot” to tell Rhys they needed to put together a presentation for the surveyors they’d contracted to scour the woodlands of Meliae. Jack was working on a hunch, a rumor from settlers on the planet regarding the sap from the native trees. Apparently it’d provide excellent lube for Hyperion’s —and some other things, Jack had said with an eyebrow waggle—so all right, Rhys had spent all of last night doing research and slapping together a decently pretty presentation over a latte who’s foam had long collapsed in on himself. When he’d texted Jack thinly veiled annoyance, he’d only gotten a laugh and a barely comprehensible “inspiring” message that told him Jack was probably drinking.

Thankfully, the CEO had shown up to the late morning meeting with no sign of a hangover, unlike Rhys—who’d subsisted on a couple hours sleep and the dregs of his cold coffee and still managed to pull himself together under a crisp shirt and straight tie. Rhys didn’t know what he would’ve done if Jack hadn’t arrived.

“Wow, you look like crap.” Unfortunately Jack’s flippant remark and quick up-down of Rhys’ haggard state doesn’t exactly improve the omega’s mood.

“At least you’re being honest now….seriously, just say that, rather than the half-assed ‘motivation’ from last night.”

“Did I text you? Haha, whoops,” Jack brushes his hand over his head to emphasize. “Didn’t even remember. Last night got a little….fuzzy.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Rhys rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off a building headache. Someday Cybernetics would figure out how to install something to inject pain meds directly into the brain.

The meeting hasn’t begun yet, but the representatives from the survey company are already milling about the door of the room, taking coffee and pastries from the table set up. A series of oohs and ahhs spring up as soon as Jack shows up with Rhys tailing behind him. No one talks to him, and for once he’s thankful of his fairly invisible position as Jack’s assistant. They’ll all have to listen to him present in a couple minutes anyway.

Rhys has the whole thing downloaded into his brain and honestly just wishes he could plug himself into the podium and have the whole thing present itself, but research says audiences respond better to a live human voice—though from the looks of it, these representatives won’t need too much convincing. Rhys folds his arms, watching the other men and women take turns lavishing Jack with all kinds of platitudes. He wonders if the presentation is even necessary, but they’re all gathered with catered breakfast anyway, so they might as well follow through with it.

Rhys’ stomach is gurgling, upset with only cold coffee to sustain it. He fists his hand into his shirt, trying to quell his twitching middle.

He considers grabbing a croissant or something from the table set up for the meeting, when he notices another one of the other company’s entourage approach Jack. Rhys’ nostrils flare, picking up on the softer scent characteristic of an omega. This isn’t unusual—smaller companies often bring along a conciliatory omega or two whenever they meet with Jack, to soften the alpha’s mood and maybe even swing the decision in their favor. Rhys doesn’t fully understand it this time, however, considering Hyperion is soliciting them for their services—so maybe this is just an overeager fan like the others?

That raises his hackles.

Rhys pauses and puts the croissant back down on the serving platter, redirecting back towards his boyfriend just in time to hear a snippet of their conversation.

“—would be an absolute pleasure to work with you, sir, really hope we can reach an understanding here—“

Boy. Rhys does not like that flirty tone in the omega’s voice. He stalks right up to the pair of them, hoping to catch a disapproving or disinterested look on Jack’s face, but to his horror he finds that his alpha has an easy smile that doesn’t go away even when Rhys moves next to him, his own expression tight. Jack nods in recognition but says little more as the omega continues. Rhys’ fingers clutch tighter against the fabric covering his stomach.

He feels he can hold his frayed nerves and frazzled instincts together, but then the omega reaches out and touches Jack’s face.

Rhys likes to think of himself as a fairly well-put together omega. Even though he’s dating the top alpha on the station, he doesn’t give into baser instincts—at least outside of the bedroom.

But seeing this omega touch Jack—with such obvious intentions and right in front of him, when it’s well known that he and Rhys are dating, just makes him snap.

He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until his teeth are buried into the omega’s hand, so he has no means to stop himself.

Rhys’ fangs aren’t particularly large, but they are sharp, and though he doesn’t usually bite people, especially not during work-hours, he’s almost surprised at how easily he pierces the flesh of the omega’s hand. The tips of his fangs dig in deep, splashing blood inside of his mouth as screams ring in his ears.

Something hard bashes against the side of his head, knocking his brain around and making his eyesight flash in little popping lights, but instead of coaxing him into relaxing his jaws he only bites down harder. His jaw locks into place as his eyes squeezes shut, all anger and frustration crunched out into the offending omega’s hand even as blows and scratches rain on his head—at least until a familiar roar of anger stops them.

Rhys shakes his head, still keeping his teeth clamped on the bleeding hand until he feels warm, steady pressure on both of his shoulders. His eyes remain closed until a soothing, musky scent starts to filter in from around the smell of blood and enemy omega, followed by a steady voice speaking right besides his head.

“C’mon sugar. Easy. Let’s let go now.”

Only after a couple more moments of calming words does Rhys’ finally unlock his jaw and let his fangs slid out of the omega’s hand. It instantly falls out of his mouth but Rhys no longer cares about the man he’s bitten as soon as he opens his eyes and saw Jack’s face.

He looks surprised.

Cries of indignation erupt from behind him as Jack straightens Rhys up by the shoulders. The CEO exchanges a couple heated words that melts into goo in Rhys’ ears as he tries to calm down. An angry slam of the door moments later, thankfully leaves them in silence and isolation, apart from Hyperion security who are so ever-present they may as well not even be there.

Jack lets out a low whistle, tune unreadable. Rhys flinches, feeling his hackles rise as the reality of what he’d just done weighs into him proper.

“Rhys.” Jack tries to start, but the omega shakes his head.

“No, don’t lecture me,” Rhys gasps, his voice tight as if drawn over Jack’s thigh, frayed by his boyfriend’s inconsideration. “You lumped all this crap on me last minute, then you’re over here flirting and I—I just—“

He drops his head, feeling stupid. He’d let his emotions, his instincts get the better of him for one moment. But one moment is all it takes for an omega on Helios, before one gets branded as jealous and shrill and incompetent and—

“You’re mine, you’re mine, I don’t want anyone else to have you, I—“

“Hey, baby, shh, shh shhh shhhh.” Jack’s fingers touch against his cheeks, a little more firmly than Rhys expected. His cheeks squish up slightly at the pressure, making him feel even more self-conscious of his childish outburst. But in all honesty it’s hard to feel too badly when Handsome Jack is paying all his attention to you and looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.

“Sorry…” Rhys mumbles, feeling the swollen tears in his eyes start to reach their breaking point. Jack’s thumbs swipe between his eyes though he’s not quite crying yet.

“Don’t, don’t sweetheart—“ Jack shuffles a little closer, their fronts brushing up against one another. “I should’ve—I didn’t think it was a big deal, but you were really obviously stressed and ready to snap, huh?”

Rhys chuckles dryly. His throat and nose feel filled with gunk.

“Was it that apparent?”

“Well, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you nearly take someone’s hand off. I mean, I didn’t know you in your youth—maybe theres a bunch of one-handed interns out there I don’t know about.”

“N-No, not many…or at least if there are, they’re not because of me…” Rhys sniffles, inhaling more of his alpha’s comforting aroma as Jack draws him closer. As much as he likes to downplay the whole animal side of his endotype, he can’t deny the calming effect that comes whenever Jack scented him.

“I’ve gotta be honest though.” Jack brushes his finger against Rhys’ lip, coming away with a smear of red on the tip. “Ripping into that other guy’s hand…that was pretty hot.”

“Means we’ll probably have to find another company to do the survey, though…”

“Eh, that’s cool. Honestly, I was thinking of just drumming up some volunteers and doing it in-house anyway.” Jack shrugs. “Some of these kids will do anything for a handshake and a lil’ bonus.”

“I-It’ll probably up costs to do that sort of training…” Rhys mumbles, only for Jack to lean in and press a kiss to his nose.

“Probably. But that’s all later talk, sugar. C’mon. Think my omega deserves a day-off of pampering for his little outburst.”

That sounds just about okay with Rhys.

[rikki-lynn]

(via What It��s Like to Live A Day with ADHD)

Writing about a day in the life of someone with ADHD is a tricky thing. I don't think any two of my days look alike. Adventure and (somewhat) controlled chaos are my constant companions.

As someone who runs a YouTube channel called How to ADHD, who’s engaged to someone with ADHD, who has ADHD herself, and who talks to tens of thousands of ADHD brains, I can tell you this — if you’ve met one person with ADHD, you’ve met one person with ADHD. We’re vastly different creatures.

We do have a surprising amount in common though, especially when it comes to the stuff we experience on a daily basis. Most days, it’s:

a rollercoaster of successes and failures

some moments feeling like a genius, and others feeling stupid

both distractibility and hyperfocus

good intentions gone off the rails

little emotional wounds from being judged by the outside world — or ourselves!

the healing from being understood and accepted for who we are

I hope this peek into my experience of one day with ADHD helps with that understanding.

The morning scramble

I wake up suddenly, search for my phone — what time is it??

Oh, okay. Still early.

It takes me awhile to fall back asleep — restless legs — but as soon as I do, the alarm goes off. The snooze button and I trade punches until my fiancé turns it off.

I jolt awake — what time is it now??

I scramble for my phone. 11 am.

SHOOT. Totally missed my morning yoga class, and now there’s not even time to shower. I growl at my fiancé — “why did you turn off the alarm??” — and stumble toward the dryer for clean clothes … which are still in the washer. I start a new cycle, then dig through the hamper, literally sniffing for something to wear.

I throw on semi-decent clothes, deodorant, mascara, take my meds — I’m almost out, SHOOT, gotta make an appointment to get another prescription — grab a Fiber One bar on the way out the door …

And then I run back inside to grab my phone. 11:15. YES! I’ll still make it to my meeting!

With time to spare, I run upstairs to kiss my fiancé goodbye and apologize for my morning crankiness. And I’m out the door! Woot!

I run back inside to grab my keys. 11:19. STILL GOOD!

The part where I wish time machines were a thing

As I jump on the freeway, I remember to call my psychiatrist — also that I forgot to charge my phone last night. Gotta decide between my headphones or my charger (thanks, iPhone 7).

4 percent battery? Charger wins. I wish wireless headphones were an option, but I have a hard enough time not losing regular headphones. And technically, they’re on a leash.

I try using the speakerphone but it’s too noisy on the freeway, so I hold the phone up to my ear as I call. The receptionist says there’s only one appointment available before my meds run out — do I want it? “Um … let me check my calendar … ”

Shoot. It’s the same time as coffee with Anna. This would be the second time in a row I’ve canceled on her. Not much choice though.

I’ll make it up to her, I vow … somehow.

I bring the phone back to my ear and see police lights in my rearview mirror. I panic and wonder how long they’ve been following me. The receptionist is halfway through confirming my appointment — I hang up and pull over.

One policeman eyes the dirty plates on my passenger side floor — I call these my car dishes — as the other hands me a ticket. As soon as they turn away, I start bawling. But I’m very aware I deserved it and weirdly grateful for being called out. I’ll definitely drive safer from now on.

Wait, 11:45?!

I get back on the road and check Waze obsessively to see whether I can make up for lost time. I drive faster, but Waze is annoyingly accurate. Eight minutes late as predicted.

Well, not terrible … you don’t really need to call unless you’ll be more than 15 minutes late, right?

Except I still needed to park … and fix my mascara … and walk over.

12:17. Ugh, I should’ve called. “SO sorry I’m late!”

My friend is unfazed. I can’t decide if I’m grateful he isn’t annoyed, or depressed that he expected it.

I tell him that, half joking. But he takes me seriously and says, “I used to have trouble with that, too. So now I just leave early.”

But this is what I hear: “I can do it, why can’t you?”

I don’t know. I try. It never seems to work out. I don’t get it either.

He starts pitching an internet project he wants me to write and I’m having trouble focusing. I’m doing a good job of pretending, though. I’ve got the thoughtful nod down.

Plus, my meds should kick in soon … Seriously though, does he have to talk that slow?

I see a server hand someone a check and I wonder how much my ticket was for. When do I have to pay it by? Do I have to pay by check? Do I even HAVE checks anymore? Wait, did I set up autopay for my new credit card?

I’ve missed half of what he’s saying. Oops. I start playing with my spinner ring to ground my attention. Focusing gets easier, but this doesn’t look as good as the thoughtful nod. I can tell he’s wondering if I’m listening now. Ah, the irony.

Honestly, this project sounds cool. But something feels off — I don’t know what. I have good instincts, but I’m kinda new at this whole “success” thing. I failed pretty regularly the first decade of my adult life.

It’s weird being successful enough that other people want to work with you. It’s even weirder having to decide whether or not they get to.

I awkwardly end the meeting.

Back on schedule — let’s try to keep it that way

I check my bullet journal, the only planner I’ve ever been able to sort of stick to, to see what’s next. Research from 2 to 5pm, dinner 5 to 6pm, writing 6 to 9pm, relax 9 to 11:30pm, bed by midnight. Totally doable.

My meds are in full effect, my focus is good, so I decide to head back home and start early. I should maybe eat lunch, but I’m not hungry. The table next to me orders fries. Fries sound good.

I eat fries.

On my way home, my friend calls. I don’t answer. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want to get another ticket, but I know it’s because I don’t want to disappoint him. Maybe I should do his project. It was a cool idea.

Back home, I cuddle up with a soft blanket, and start researching — and realize why I didn’t want to do the project. I reach for my phone and can’t find it. The hunt begins — and ends with me giving up and using the Find My iPhone feature. A loud beeping emerges from my blanket.

I call my friend. He answers. Does anyone else find that slightly weird? I almost never answer when people call. Especially if I might not like what they have to say. Call it phone anxiety, but a text to announce a phone call is the only way to get me to pick up — maybe.

But he answers, so I tell him why I don’t want to write his project: “Because YOU should write it!” I tell him what he said that made me realize it and walk him through how to get started. Now he’s excited. I know he’ll crush at this. I feel successful for the first time today.

Maybe I do know what I’m doing. Maybe I — I hang up and see what time it is. 3:45.

Oops. I’m supposed to be researching dyslexia for an episode.

I throw myself into the research until my alarm goes off at 5, reminding me to stop for dinner. But there’s stuff I still don’t understand yet. Ehhh, I’ll just keep going until 6.

It’s 7 and I’m starving. I grab way too much food — wait, wait.

I bring the food to my desk and begin typing furiously: “Turn ‘reading with dyslexia’ into a game …”

I write half the episode.

I get a better idea.

I start working on that one — WAIT — laundry! Not gonna beat me THIS time!

Switching the clothes to the dryer, I realize my workout clothes aren’t in there. Argh, I missed today so I have to go tomorrow or I’m not gonna feel good.

I grab my yoga pants and a bunch of other clothes off the floor of pretty much every room in the house and start a new load. I remember to set a timer!

I sit back down to write, but the idea doesn’t seem as great now.

Or maybe I don’t really remember it.

ADHD, the after hours

I can tell my meds are wearing off. It’s getting harder to hold all the thoughts in my brain while I work with them. The page in front of me is a random tangle of words. I’m getting frustrated.

The timer goes off. I gotta change the laundry — except the dryer’s still going.

I set the timer for another 10 minutes and head to the couch to hang upside down and try to get my brain to work.

Upside down, I remember I’m trying to get better about work-life balance and wonder if I should stop, even though I haven’t gotten much done. But tomorrow’s super busy, especially now that I have to work out, and — BZZZ.

I race back to the laundry room, take a corner too sharply and run into the wall, bounce off, grab the dry clothes, dump them on my bed, switch over the wet ones, and start the dryer. I race back and check the clock. 9:48.

Okay, I’ll keep working, but I’ll stop at 10:30. And fold the laundry. And relax.

10:30 comes and goes. I find a way back into that idea and I’m in a flow. I can’t stop. This is hyperfocus, and it can be both a blessing and a curse for those of us with ADHD. I write and write, and rewrite and rewrite, until my fiancé comes to check on me and finds me passed out in front of the computer.

He carries me upstairs, sees the pile of clothes on the bed, pushes them aside, and tucks me in. I promise to do better tomorrow, to make more time for us. And to fold the clothes.

He kisses me and tells me that clothes are just clothes, but the stuff we make lasts forever.

I hug him, hard. And see the time over his shoulder — it’s 3am. I’m gonna have to choose between sleep and yoga. Tomorrow’s gonna be another scramble.

Written by Jessica McCabe on July 27, 2017

[never-not-ever]

I love getting these things!!

The following is an email from the past, composed on July 09, 2016. It is being delivered from the past through FutureMe.org

It's 9:52pm on a Friday. Also sorry for any spelling or grammar errors as you can see there is way too much for me to reread and I also don't give a fuck????

In the spirit of being in a residential DBT program that's been teaching me all these skills I'll use one right now that I think will be interesting to read about whenever I get this letter. I think this is a grounding/mindfulness skill where you use your five senses and list as much of each sense that you can...

Let's set the scene..I'm sitting on a couch in the main room of The Hill Center.

*Hearing* I can hear the humming of the AC behind me, the noise coming out of the sound-machine near the staff room, and the staff laughing inside.

*Smell* Weirdly enough I can smell the lemon iced tea mix even though it's not even near me. I think it's cause I've been craving it for the past hour.

*Taste* I can taste the stuffed chicken tortillas that I just mowed down on a little while ago.

*Touch* I can feel the couch under my foot and the rug under my other foot. I can feel the coffee table with my knee and the pillow with my side. I can feel my panda pillow pet under my right arm and I can also feel my fuzzy blanket under my left arm. I can feel the edges of my laptop under my wrists and the keyboard under my fingertips.

*Sight* Lastly I can see these letters being typed up this very second. I can see all the items that I just mentioned for the "touch sense", I can see the fire place to my right, the other couch with one pillow directly in front of me. I can see one of the counselors going into the staff office as I type up this sentence. I can see the white boards with all our (patients) names on it, I can see the huge flat screen with a clock above it to my left, I can see my Michael's bag (full of various colored string inside and my bedside table key on top in front of me. I can see the counselor with the crazy awesome hair (short, straight, black and grey on one side, long, black, purple and green and curly on the other side) leave the staff office through the back entrance leaving for the night. I can go on for hours listing all the things I see but I think that's enough.

It's hard to imagine it but in 4 days I'm going to be moving back home. I haven't lived at home since mid-March which is 4 months ago (not counting the 10 days in the beginning of April in-between inpatient stays). I honestly don't think I need to rehash all the events of these past 4 months because I don't think these memories will be leaving anytime soon-or at least I hope not; ECT-who knows. Even if they do I have some typed up documents on my lap top that I can go over.

So instead I'll talk about what I did today and how I feel right now... I woke up this morning and took a shower which is odd because I usually use the lunch break to shower but I think this morning I was already thinking about lunch and how I wanted to actually eat something instead of wasting the time away showering-weird, I know. I was supposed to get my meds by 8:30 and Ashley came up and knocked on the bathroom door to tell me that she was ready when I was done. The first group started at 9am and I was rushing like a mad woman to get downstairs so I could make some coffee and get my meds. I literally had minutes to spare, but I made it. Made a bomb ass cup of Folgers french vanilla in the microwave (I don't think it even has any caffeine but oh well) and managed to scoff down a cherry nutri-grain bar. The first group was "Self Assessment/Weekend Planning". The second group was "Interpersonal Effectiveness" and I had to leave early to go meet with Amy my social worker at 10:30. She told me that my insurance covered me up until my discharge date and that on Monday or Tuesday she's going to call my reviewer to see if they'll cover a weeks worth of doing the day program here. The third group was "Ed/Voc". For lunch I made a buffalo chicken and cheese wrap. The last group of the day was DBT skills where we had to color a mandala and Ashley had control over the what we used and for how long and then we had to pass it to the person next to us and then we got it back and it was just a very distressing exercise but the point was to use our skills *eyeroll emoji*. After that group the day was over and the weekend began except for us residents cause we still have groups on the weekends. I ran up to my room so I could untie my braids-I had braided them in the first group so that my hair wouldn't frizz up. My hair actually turned out pretty good. Then Auntie Debbie and Nana picked me up outside and we went out for the next 4 hours. First stop Target so that I could exchange a bag cause it had a stain on it. Next stop The Cheesecake Factory followed by Michael's where I returned those $40 (originally $60) colored pencils and got string and scissors for my newest interest-friendship bracelets. After that we did an obligatory Starbucks run and I got a caramel macchiato which was like a 5 when I should have gotten the pink drink I've been addicted to lately which is like a 10! Then they dropped me home (it's honestly become so natural to refer to the McLean campus as home). We had a 6pm group of "Weekend Planning". Ever since the group ended I've been camped out on the couch with my laptop, blanket and pillow. Room curfew is midnight although I don't think I'm gonna stay down here that long. Tomorrow I'm on kitchen duty which means I gotta make the coffee, make sure there's enough paper goods on the counter and that the stuff next to the sink is put away, sweep the kitchen floor, take out the trash etc. I'm leaving at 12 though so I'll be out of the house for 10 hours so they better be able to manage the kitchen while I'm gone.

Tomorrow I'm heading straight home and tackling my room once and for all. I won't have that long to clean because we have to leave my house at 3 to head to Revere. I'm going to see The Conjuring 2 with Kim and Katie and I'm so excited...I can't wait!!! Kim is once again staying with me from the moment my gm picks me up till the moment she drops me off. I feel bad that every Saturday she endures this...torture but oh well.

Right now I'm tired. I'm tired from this day but I'm also tired from all this "treatment" I've had these past couple of months. I'm scared for the future. I don't know what it's going to hold. Who knows...Maybe I'll never be able to read this, maybe I'll be dead before the delivery date. Maybe I'll be in a state hospital when I read this. Maybe I'll be back on the STU when I read this or maybe, just maybe I'll be okay and living a "normal" life when I read this.

It's hard to imagine a life without depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts, inpatient units and residential stays because I've made all that my life. I don't know who I am anymore. I'm definitely not the person I was back in March and I'll never be her again. I don't know who I'll be when I read this again. Maybe on some weird coincidence I'll be sitting on this couch back at The Hill.

I've decided to send this 5 months into the future. My hearts starting to race just thinking about that...trying to imagine my life 5 months from now. I've set the date back a couple days so that it'll be a Wednesday when I get this, which means I should have had my DBT group today. I'm hoping that being on the McLean campus at least once a week will help me feel like I didn't just get the treatment band aid ripped off and instead it's slowly being peeled off. And now I'm typing up random nonsense because I don't want this to end. The second I hit that "Send to the Future!" button this thing becomes a part of my future. The only thing I'm certain of in my future is that this letter will get sent to my email. I know that's gonna happen but I have absolutely no idea what else will happen and that terrifies me.

[lightscameraquinn]

I’ll Keep Yours, If You Keep Mine || Quinntana

who: @auntiesnixxtalks & @lightscameraquinn when: November 26 where: Evan’s Home what: Santana comes over, secrets are revealed warnings: cancer mention

Quinn knew Santana was coming over with a bottle of wine, but she didn't entirely enjoy wine and particularly not when she was in pain. Jack Daniels tended to be her drink of choice at home. Her house was warm but she was wrapped in a jacket and a blanket, attempting to fight off the cold that caused the pain in her back to spike. Normally she'd wear a pain patch, but due to the fresh tattoo that adorned her lower back she didn't, not wanting to risk it. 

Her family didn't know about the pain and while her vacation to Florida with Isabel had been enjoyable she now regretted doing so much. The pain had been why she wanted to get away and while she'd managed to keep it at bay, the return to the cold of New York really messed her up.

Upon hearing her front door open and the usual, "Oh Lucy!" of her best friend, Quinn sighed. Standing from her place on the couch, glass of liquor in her hand, she made her way to the doorway that led to the main hall. "You know, calling Lucy in this house is going to result in my daughter answering you, one of these days. Also, most people only use their key to my home in emergencies." She took a sip from the glass in her hand as she leaned against the doorway, doing her best to not look like standing hurt. "How've you been, San?"

Santana had no issue with letting herself in and out of the Evans household, she had a key and like fuck was she going to stand outside in the cold and freeze her potentially deadly tits off for anyone. The whole point of having a key was to open a door so why would she waste her time knocking? Announcing her arrival as she walked through the door, "Oh Lucy!" she placed the bottle of wine she had tucked under one arm on the unit by the door as she shrugged off her coat.

"Nice to see you too," she fired back as she hung up her coat on one of the hooks, "besides, little Lucy knows the difference between me calling you Lucy and me calling for her. You might be too dense to tell the difference but Lucy's not." She picked up the bottle of wine and turned to face her friend, "I come bearing gifts but apparently you decided to start without me which is just fucking rude, Q." She shook her head, "Guess this thing that's not bothering you at all warrants an early whiskey," she jabbed, making her friend aware of the fact that she hadn't forgotten the reason she came over in the first place. "Also, I came here willingly and I brought wine, I think that alone warrants being considered an emergency." 

She had no intention of discussing how she truly was, what she was going through, or more to the point what she was refusing to deal with but that didn't prevent the veiled truth slipping past her lips, "I'm not dead yet so I'd say I'm good but I'm not here for me, I'm here because you decided to be a cryptic bitch and you can either tell me what's going on over a glass of wine or, I can drink the wine and then bludgen it out of you using the bottle," she shrugged, "your choice."

Quinn shook her head, a small laugh falling from her lips. "I am well aware, but who knows, one of these days it just might get you in trouble anyway." She knew her best friend and her daughter well enough to know it wasn't likely to happen, but that still didn't mean it couldn't. "I never said it wasn't bothering me, just said you had no reason to worry about it." She shrugged. "You're the one insisting it's something major, and I can tell you now that its not." Quinn wasn't actually lying. The pain was chronic and while it was flared up, she was to blame for it. She'd been doing too much, running herself thin, just like she had told Santana. Even if her best friend didn't know the full extent of it.

At her best friend's words Quinn raised an eyebrow. The wording was weird and not one Quinn liked the sound of. "Is there not an option where I keep drinking Jack that doesn't result in me getting beat with with bottle?" She asked, even as she made her way towards her kitchen. She was doing her best to not look pained as she walked, though prepared any number of excuses, just in case her friend asked.

Santana shrugged, "Please, I've always been getting into trouble one way or another." The Latina couldn't even begin to think of a situation where her calling Lucy and Quinn's daughter answering would result in any kind of trouble but even if it did, she always found a way out of trouble. "Because when people don't worry about your ass, it ends so well," she drawled with an eye roll. "It doesn't have to be major for me to worry, Q. I've seen you when something's wrong and how fast you can spiral. Not sure about you, but I'd rather you didn't have repetition of that phase." Seeing Quinn lose herself was something that was truly terrifying to Santana, it was an experience that had stayed with her and always would. It didn't matter how many times they ripped each other apart or exchanged slaps, Quinn was her best friend and she truly hated seeing her suffer in anyway. Especially when she alone had the knowledge that her time with her best friend could very well be limited. 

Santana hummed in response, "You get me a glass of Jack, we save the wine, you tell me what's wrong and then I don't have to beat you with anything." She followed after Quinn noticing that the blonde seemed to be walking odd, it reminded her of when her friend first started walking after the car accident in high school, "What the fuck is up with you?" she questioned before grimacing, "Oh God, don't tell me you finally caved into Fish Lips and let him fuck you in the ass?!"

Quinn had rolled her eyes, because honestly, everything her best friend said was true. Not just that the Latina had been getting into trouble since the day they met, and likely before, but also that things tended to go sideways when Quinn didn't have someone looking after her. Not that this was something that could send her off that particular deep end, but it could end in other ways, even if she didn't want them to. 

"Most of that can be arranged, I'm sure." She replied as she continued on her way to the kitchen. However, her best friend's comment had her close to tripping over her own feet, a grimace crossing her face. "I just spent a week trailing after a sixteen year old, all over Florida, is what's up. Any time I might have had for sex with my husband was spent unpacking or simply sleeping," she responded through a clenched jaw. Santana's sense of humor was often something Quinn could handle, even enjoyed, but at the moment it was anything but funny. Entering the kitchen, she grabbed another glass and set it down next to the bottle of Jack. "You can pour your own."

She eyed the glass for the less than half a second before she locked eyes with Quinn, "Bullshit," she spat. She didn't give two shits about having a drink right now or pouring it herself, not when her best friend was blatantly trying to avoid the truth of the matter right now. "I guess while you and Is were in Florida you guys were involved in a pretty serious car crash," she quipped, "cos the last time you walked like that was right after you gotta out that wheelchair and don't you even DARE trying to give me shit about a new tattoo!"

Quinn leaned against the counter, staring at Santana with narrowed eyes. She was in a corner, she honestly was. Santana knew something was up and she couldn't really lie her way out of it, even though she seriously wanted to. "You seriously think the effects of that car accident wore of when I got out of the chair? You think they just faded off with time? They didn't. I've dealt with this shit for years now. It's nothing new. It's my life." Her words were harsh and she pushed off the counter, making her way over to Santana. "Happy now?" She spat, getting almost too close to Santana's face.

Santana was not in the least bit surprised by Quinn's outburst, she knew the blonde well enough to expect it. "I'm not stupid, Quinn, I know you still feel the effects of that accident," she couldn't believe that her friend would think that she would be so oblivious when they had known each other all these years, but what if... "but no one else does, do they?" The realisation felt like a sudden weight had landed in the pit of her stomach, Sam and their children were completely oblivious to the fact that Quinn put on a brave face. "You want me to be happy that you're in pain? Jesus fucking Christ, Q! We're not in high school anymore."

Quinn sighed as the realization hit her best friend, not entirely backing away. She was too tense to. As Santana continued, Quinn shook her head. "No, they don't. They don't and they don't need to. Like I said, I'm used to it. The pain comes and goes. Sometimes it's worse and lately it has been, that's all it is." She closed her eyes, unable to look her best friend in the face, arms wrapping around herself. "Of course I don't, still doesn't mean it's not what I expect."

Santana shook her head, of course Sam was oblivious, he'd never been the sharpest tool in the shed but the dude shared a home with Quinn, slept in the same bed as Quinn, how could he be so blind to not notice that something was even slightly wrong? "So you're just going to suffer in silence and not get anyone to help out or anything?" she knew she was being a hypocrite right now, but Quinn's problem and her problem were very different. "Have you even been to a doctor for pain meds or anything," she glanced over at the bottle of Jack on the side, "or are you self medicating?" It wasn't an accusation, it was a question out of pure concern. "For someone who went to Yale, you can be real stupid sometimes, do you know that?"

Quinn sighed, opening her eyes to look at her best friend. "I've been, but do you know how hard it is to get insurance to cover medication for chronic pain? Almost impossible. I've got pain patches, but given I've got fresh holes in my back, it kind of proves to be a problem." She turned away from Santana, walking back over to her glass on the counter she'd been standing by, downing the rest of it in one go. Bracing herself on the counter, she stretched her back out, grimacing a bit at the way it cracked and popped. "I went to school for acting, are you truly surprised I use it?"

"They don't give you any pain meds other than patches?" Santana asked in disbelief. "That's bullshit, they've got to be able to give you something more than just some patch!" The Latina honestly didn't blame Quinn for drinking something a lot stronger than wine but she also knew that it was now something she would have to keep an eye on because if the blonde ever followed in the footsteps of Russell Fabray she would hate herself in the most extreme way possible. "Not well enough to fool me," she gently pointed out as she reached for the bottle of Jack to pour herself a drink.

She turned back to Santana, once again leaning against the counter. "They did, but they're something I'd rather not rely on. I only have so many and they're expensive. Besides, the patches work, when I can use them. Right now, is just problematic because I've got so long before I can safely use them again. So, I compensate with Jack til I can use the patches again. Safer than the pills, especially with an addictive personality," she explained with a shrug. "Took you this long to say something, though.

Santana nodded as Quinn spoke, she knew all too well about the expense of pain medication, she was just fortunate enough that their insurance covered most of the cost for her wife's medications. She shrugged, Quinn had a point, she had taken a while to speak up about it but she had her own life to live, her own problems to deal with (or not, as the case may be), "Unfortunately for you, I've had things to take care of but you seemed to be managing so I figured you were doing ok. Now you're clearly not so I can't keep quiet anymore."

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, eying Santana. There was still something off, she knew it, she just didn't know what it was. Nothing looked wrong, but the reaction to her smoking was new. Which didn't make sense. "I'm no worse off than I was a month ago. This all started because you got snippy about my smoking. Which you still haven't explained properly, by the way."

Santana busied herself with taking a rather large mouthful of drink in an attempt to just give herself enough time to try and formulate some kind of rational and believable reasoning to why she hadn't said anything until now and why she'd kicked off about the cigarettes. "You clearly don't know how to listen because I've had things to take care of and I'm not talking about this week, life has this habit of giving me shit to do. As for the smoking, you're clearly smoking more if you're announcing to the world that you're having a smoke and ok, I've never liked that you smoked but if you're ok saying that you are then you're going to be ok with smoking more openly and that shit isn't good for you. That shit causes cancer and guess what?" she hadn't meant to get so riled up but talking about why she didn't want Quinn to smoke, even if she was refusing to face up to her own truth, was making just driving home the point that she herself was sick, "Cancer fucking kills!"

Quinn rolled her eyes as Santana spoke. While she knew so much of her best friend's words were true, she still couldn't figure out where exactly this all was coming from. Quinn had been smoking again for years. It wasn't something new she'd picked up and she wasn't exactly shy about it. Most people knew. "I've been open about it. Maybe you were too wrapped up in your own life to see it, but I've never been shy about it. I haven't had an issue with saying I smoked since a few months after I started up again. Sure, it doesn't always come out in conversation, but I don't lie about it." She sighed. "I know it does, but honestly, so does drinking and given my lovely family history, I'll take the thing that will only possibly kill me, over the thing that could turn me into Russell. Drown all my problems like he did, except I've got a taste for a much stronger liquor."

"Wrapped up in my own life?" Santana snorted, "I go to work to fix other people's problems and then I come home and have to make sure Britt and the kids are all ok, oh and bring stuff home to work on because if I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it right but yeah, sure, I'm too wrapped up in my life because I don't keep tabs on what you are and aren't doing." One of the advantages of her friendship with Quinn, was that even after all these years, they were pretty much the only people that could tolerate their level of bitch and not end up with their friendship damaged beyond repair. "Yeah well, I'd rather you were around even as a drunk because despite what you think, you haven't got that level of douchebaggery in you to turn out like jackass. You're the one person on this fucking planet that I trust with my family." She bit the inside of her cheek, that last part she hadn't meant to voice and she knew that no matter how hard she wished or whatever God she prayed to, that if Quinn had noticed her fuck up, the blonde would pursue it relentlessly.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Still doesn't discredit the fact that you're obviously under the impression me talking about it openly is a new thing. Whether it's your work, your family, or your own life, you've obviously been so caught up in it all, you've missed a decent chunk of the last few years." They were always harsh on each other, it was just who they were. As Santana spoke Quinn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it. She uncrossed her arms and made her way over to her best friend. "I don't want me around as a drunk, whether I'm likely to turn into Russell or not." Her eyebrows knitted together as she thought over everything else Santana said. It was out of left field, in a general sense, but seemed to reiterate the reality that something was wrong with her best friend. "Why? Why are you so worried about me staying alive and what does that have to do with me looking after your family? What is wrong? And don't you dare lie to me." The tone of her voice was betrayed by the gentle hand she placed on Santana's arm, concern etching itself onto her face.

"Well excuse me for not acting like your God damn mother and trying to keep up with every fucking cancerous breath you take," Santana spat back. At this point she couldn't avoid her truth, she couldn't ignore the fact that there was alien thing in her body eating away at her and that she was too terrified to do anything about it or that she had no idea how she would be able to fit that particular battle into her life when she couldn't even make the time to write for herself anymore. She had known that Quinn would pick up on her slip up and the truth of the matter was, she was too tired right now to try and keep herself together. Every word she had said to her best friend had been filled with hypocrisy because while she was busy telling Quinn to look after herself, to quit smoking for her health, she was too much of a chicken shit to even turn up at the hospital for the follow up appointment to discuss a treatment plan. She sucked in her lower lip as she tried to keep the bottled up emotions buried but the concerning touch was too much, because the one person that could call her on her bullshit had and it ended with a hand covering her mouth as she clenched her jaw to prevent the escape of tears or possibly vomit from escaping her lips as the full force of her reality settled on her.

Quinn didn't even hesitate when she watched Santana react, immediately pulling her friend into a hug. She didn't know what exactly was wrong, but leaving the Latina speechless was a hard thing to do. Whatever this was, whatever had her best friend so different wasn't good. Quietly, she pulled away, taking Santana by the hand and leading her through the kitchen and to the living room. Sitting down on the couch she pulled Santana down next to her, arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Hey, talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Please, San." Her words were gentle, almost pleading. Quinn needed to know, she needed to know what was wrong.

Santana didn't even fight Quinn on the hug, right now she needed the comfort, she needed someone to take a second to say 'Hey, you're not ok' and for that to be allowed. She was so used to being wife to someone with chronic pain, to being Mami, even to being abuela. She was used to dealing with everybody's problems but her own and sometimes she needed someone to tell her that it was ok that she had problems and that she was actually allowed to talk about them. Sat on the couch, she fought the urge to lean into her best friend, knowing that if she did the floodgates would open and if she started crying, she wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to stop. "I've fucked up," she explained solemnly before dropping her head and using her hair to mask her face as she admitted, "I'm sick, Luce."

As Santana spoke, Quinn just held her closer, resting her head on her best friend's shoulder, free hand moving to brush the hair away from Santana's face. Luce was a term used very rarely. It was serious, intimate, used only in moments like this. When truth was shared and no one was around but them to hear it. "Cancer?" The word was soft, cautious, afraid of the reality an answer would reveal. It made sense, just given her best friend's statements about her smoking, but she needed to be sure.

A sad smile briefly touched Santana's lip, her memory recalling the many times the pair had been in this position over the years, though their rolls were usually in reverse. A dry laugh escaped her lips at the question as she tried to joke, "I have a killer rack in more ways than one." It was crass and stupid but she couldn't bring herself to say 'cancer', everything was getting very real and very fast and she was barely holding herself together right now.

Quinn rolled her eyes gently and gave Santana's shoulders a gentle squeeze. The small laugh that escaped her lips had her shaking her head at the pair of them. "Well, what are you going to do about it? Because you have to know I'm not letting you do nothing." She had a feeling that Santana had likely tried to ignore it, they were simply too much alike and she knew Santana had a tendency to put everyone but herself first. "And I'm not losing my best friend without a fight." She added on, knowing she wasn't going to let Santana go through it alone.

Santana gave a barely noticeable shrug in response to the questions, "I don't know." She was clueless right now. She didn't know if she'd left it too long to be able to just reschedule her appointment or if she'd have to go back and get a referral to that particular doctor again. She wasn't entirely sure her insurance covered the treatment and even if it did, it wouldn't cover all of it and she'd have to find a way of covering the expenses in a way that her wife wouldn't notice or have it affect their ability to pay college tuition. "You've got your own shit to be dealing with," Santana replied feebly, there was no way in any universe that Quinn would ever listen or not want to support her through this but that didn't stop the wave of guilt that flooded through her. "B and the kids..." she let out a sigh, "I don't want them to know."

Quinn sighed, but cuffed Santana on the shoulder when she dared to mention Quinn's life. Yes, Quinn had things going on, but if her best friend dared to think that would stop any of this, she was very wrong. "Well, we're gonna figure it out and y'know what, maybe for now it's best just the two of us know. We'll get everything figured out, then we'll deal with letting other people know, yeah?" She hugged Santana gently. "I'll even figure out how to kick this whole smoking thing, but you've got to promise me that no matter what you have to do to treat this, you do it. Deal?" Quinn had just recently bought a new carton of cigarettes, but after that she would be done. One last carton, however many packs she had left, and she'd be done.

Despite the fact that Quinn had basically just scolded her in the nicest way possible, Santana just nodded, if the rolls had been reversed she would've had the same response, maybe even worse. "I don't think my brain can handle them knowing. B would freak, the kids...I don't know. Just, Mia's pregnant, Lex and Cris are in school...they don't need to know about this. I'm not going to do that to them," she shook her head at the mere thought of what something like this would do to her family. She wanted to agree to Quinn's deal, purely just to get the blond to stop smoking but what if she couldn't afford the treatments, what if she was too scared to see them through, what if it took too much out on her, there were so many variables. She finally gave in to the need for comfort and leant against her best friend, burying her face against the blondes shirt as she finally admitted out loud, "I'm scared, Luce."

Quinn simply nodded along to what Santana said. She could understand it. It was why she hadn't told her own family the pain was getting worse. Sure, the scenarios were vastly different, but the sentiment behind their actions were the same. As the Latina turned in her arms, Quinn fully hugged her friend, holding her close. "I know, I know." She soothed. "But you're not going to do this alone. It's you and me, no matter what, okay?" She placed a kiss to the top of Santana's head. They could get through this. They'd gotten through so much, they weren't going to let this be the end. "We can do this, San. I know we can."

Santana chewed on her lower lip, it was one of the few nervous habits she actually had and it only ever surfaced when she was truly worried about something or once in a blue moon on the verge of tears that she refused to shed in front of anyone. "What if we can't?" she voiced quietly. "What if I've truly fucked up this time and left it too long?" She knew that was a very real possibility, instead of facing her problems she had buried her head in the sand and now she was realising the consequences of doing so. Along with that realisation came the steam stream of silent tears, ok, she wasn't exactly a spring chicken anymore but she wasn't entirely over the hill yet either and she was far from ready to leave the ones she loved and the idea that she might and that it would be her own damn fault hurt more than she could've anticipated.

Quinn pulled back from her best friend, hooking a finger under the Latina's chin and forcing dark brown eyes to meet hazel. "How long did you let it go?" Her words were firm but gentle. "Because unless you've been hiding for years, then I'm gonna guess we've still got a pretty good chance of kicking this thing. You and me. No one messes with the bitch goddess spectrum except the bitch goddess spectrum." She pulled Santana back into a hug. "Meaning the only way you're dying on me this early is if I kill you myself." She whispered into her best friend's ear, the remark far more serious than it was teasing.

Santana really did not want to answer the question, she knew she'd end up with an imprint of the blondes hand across her cheek or she'd have a shoe wedged up her ass. "A few months," she admitted quietly as she refused to meet Quinn's gaze. She knew she shouldn't have left it so long, it just wasn't something she was prepared to deal with, more to the point she had no idea how she was supposed to deal with it. A watery laugh managed to enter the air as the Latina clung to her oldest friend, "You can't be there for my kids if your ass is in prison," she pointed out.

Quinn sighed roughly, hand connecting with the back of Santana's head. "¡Idiota!" She hissed, groaning a bit. "What am I going to do with you, huh?" She shook her head, sighing. "Then don't give me a reason to, yeah? Cause you're not dying unless I kill you myself." Pulling away from Santana, she smiled. It was small and sad, but it was there. "You want someone to look after your family then it better be you, got it? None of this leaving them to me. I'm not letting you."

"Ey!" Santana cried out at the smack to her head. She knew she'd fucked up, especially if Quinn was resorting to Spanish, it just drove the point across. "How about not give me brain damage? I've already got a tumour chomping away at me, I don't need something else fucking me over," the Latina shot back. She tried to muster a smile but she was too scared of what may lie ahead, "I don't think either of us get a say in you letting me or not, Luce." She rest her head against Quinn's cheek, "I don't want to put my family through this."

Quinn rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Then stop being an idiot and we won't have to worry about me taking you down, now will we?" She ran her fingers through Santana's hair, sighing. "Yeah we do, we just don't get as much of a say as we'd like." She hummed a little, turning her head to kiss the side of Santana's. "I know you don't, and we'll keep this from them as long as we can. But, the fact is, it's happening and I'm not letting you put off getting this taken care of any longer than you already have. Because then you're risking putting your family, and the rest of us, through your death and that's so much worse than you just being sick. Got it?"

"Like you need an excuse to try," Santana retorted half-heartedly but still managing to stress the last word. "Well, that's bullshit," she grumbled, relaxing slightly at the soothing way Quinn's fingers ran through her hair before she stiffened at the thought that she could lose her hair if she has to go through chemo. "It's not like I want to die, Luce," she sighed, "I just...I don't even fucking know what I'm trying to say right now other than I hate you because you weren't supposed to know about this either."

"You're right, I don't, but it's better when I do." She teased. Moving, she adjusted how she was sitting so she could lean back into the couch, pulling her legs up underneath her. "Yeah, I know." She sighed before laughing. "You'll get over the hating me thing. You always do." She grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. "You up for stupid movies and Chinese take out or is that just me?"

[defiantscribe]

Finding That Unique Trait

Lately, I've been toying with the idea that I can do something that will give me some sort of notoriety that will somehow get people to listen to me or at least take my observations into account and validate them.

That's not entirely true.  As of lately, I've been trying to figure out if there's something I enjoy doing that I could easily turn into a career.  I'm at this crossroad of life and I'm at that stage in my life where I'm thinking about taking something I love and turning it into a life long job that for me is little effort but has a huge payout.

Sadly, there isn't anything that would do that for me.  As much as I want to be that special little unique snowflake every child in this country is raised to believe themselves to be, I think I have to face facts and make peace with the fact that as "awesome" as I think I am, I'm just not going to be anything more than a middle class dad, making money, paying a mortgage, trying to encourage my children to chase their dreams because any that I might have had are either too hard to obtain or too time consuming that I would have to give up something of equal value to obtain.

It's basically a form of real life equivalent exchange.  You want to do this?  Well, you better be prepared to give up this other thing that's somewhat important to you.  Are you willing to?  The answer is no... well.... not yet. As time continues to roll forward in that never ending thing called existence, I'm starting to come to the conclusion that as much of a selfish bastard that I am, I usually put my "wants" on a back burner to ensure that those around me are happy and contented, usually taking on the brunt of any level of bullshit because I have that fear that if I push anyone away, even a little, that I'll be left by myself, with people hating me.

It stems from a huge insecurity issue I have, but there may be some light in this dirty little hole I've been living in for 20+ years.  

It's called Paroxetine.  More commonly known as Paxil, it's my antidepressant. Personally, I don't like taking the shit that often, but it's one of those nasty little fuckers that if you stop taking it all together it can have adverse effects. I actually took a break from writing this to look up what it means to stop taking this shit and it sounds rough, but sounds like one of those gotta talk to the doctor to handle it.

Personally, it helped me in a time when I was really spinning out of control. One day I might share the life factors that lead me to seeking out medication from my doctor, but just know that it was some pretty dire shit that happened and I got to a point of almost paranoid delusions and severely mistrusting everyone around me, myself included.

It took quite some time for the drug to start working like it should and it helped peel that paranoia off SEVERELY.  It helped get me back to being a functioning adult, which is what my family needed.  But, on the flip side of that, it causes me to have a case of what I like to call, "The I Don't Give a Fucks".

This drug literally makes me madly indifferent to just about everything.  Someone got hurt? Meh. I have no money in my account to buy groceries? Meh. A client called in and complained about my work on their project? Meh.

It has turned me into basically a non-caring twat.  And I HATE that.  A lot of who I was, who I am, is being somewhat opinionated about things and talking (or typing) about them at great length.  But this shit?  It makes me act like that dog in an apartment and the bitch says, "This is fine."

No, it's not fine.  This is checking out.  It's losing all passion in my opinion.  I skip doses because it helps bring some of that passion back.  Kind of a reason I'm writing this right now.  I'm a couple days off my dosage, but I'm taking one before I got to bed because if I go too long, I start getting all shitty.  And I have a sinking suspicion that is who I am when I'm not on those meds.

Honestly, I'm still holding on to a lot of what triggered this in my life and I'm still not over it (it's less than a year old, so it's not exactly been a long, hard road... the road disappeared and turned into a steep cliff that I rolled down with jagged rocks), but that's not who I want to be.  I want to go back to being the goofy, trusting, nerdy guy I was 15 years ago.  I want to be the dad that thinks the dumb shit his kids do is funny and not irritating and actually tune into what they find exciting instead of being a dismissive dickhead.

I wish I could honestly rewind time and just take care of what I suspected or changed a few key events that would have had a very different result had the pit of my stomach feeling been trusted.  I'm a firm believer of trusting your gut.  If you suddenly have a feeling/need to do something, do it.  Don't question why, just do it.  It's worked out WAY more times than it's backfired for me.

I'm getting there, but with anything that's a long time fuck up, it takes equally as long to fix and in this generation of instant gratification and removing wait times, it's frustrating to keep going when results aren't seen in a short period of time.

And that's kinda where I'm at with my choices in life.  I'm trying to get comfortable with the idea that it's going to take time and that I just have to trust that ethos and put faith in the fact that in the past being patient has worked out well for me and I just have to trust that what I desire will happen, just not as quickly as I might like.

Which brings up my next life venture: Gym and Vlog.

I'm toying with the idea of going back to the gym and starting a somewhat regular vlog that I start uploading to hopefully inspire those like myself.... the cogs of the machine.... to keep reaching.  I don't expect or even anticipate that I will ever achieve the greatness I know I could handle if put in that position, but that won't keep me from trying at least a little bit.  If I can help inspire or motivate one person, myself included, that's going to be enough.... or at least I hope it will be.

But, that's a ways away.  Still trying to get myself back to being a sphere from a dodecahedron.

Thanks for the rant, it's definitely been awhile since I jumped into this cathartic exercise of writing.

I really wish I could make some kind of career out of being a judgmental bitch on the internet, but that job was run and done while I was still growing pubes and taking history tests. Telling someone you're a blogger these days usually gets snickers and "oh.... you're a BLOGGER." reactions.

But I do enjoy this, putting what stupid shit pops into my head out to the universe.  So, I'll keep doing that until I either stop caring, die (hopefully not for a long time) or just say something so poignant that people can't help but take notice.

Heh, a guy can dream, right?

[skamfairy]

Evak fic Chapter 2

Chapter 2 of my Evak fic. Chapter 1 here

I tried to push him out of my mind. Pretend that I just imagined it all. Side effects of the meds. That's all. I laid down on my bed and thought of everything but him. I wasn't thinking of him. Not at all. I couldn't even remember the way his eyebrows closed together in a mix of confusion and frustration, how he sucked in his cheeks when one of his friends said something he found both shocking and funny because usually afterwards he would throw his head back in laughter, and sometimes the vibration would cause one of his golden curls to fall on his forehead and it did everything for me not to imagine brushing that curl away with my fingertips... I screamed into my hands in frustration. I am such a creep. It's been two weeks and still all I wanted to do was talk to this boy but I knew that I couldn't and I shouldn't for so many reasons. So I continued to live in denial...and torture. My hands started fidgeting and my body and mind began to buzz with energy and conflicted feelings. I quickly grabbed a stray notebook lying at the bottom corner of my bed and picked up the pen tucked into the binder. I started drawing my math teacher Mr. Steinen getting married to Donald Trump who was wearing a dress made out of the tears of psychotic murderous clowns. It was hard to convey that aspect into the drawing, so I made a note of it in the corner to clear it up. I stared at the drawing, waiting for the usual satisfaction I get from doodling to wash over me. But it didn’t come. Something was still scratching from the inside of my skull and I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or maybe I didn’t want to admit it. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing. Mindfulness meditation that I was told to do whenever I felt unhinged from reality somehow or even a little stressed, when I was first diagnosed with bipolar. I tried to focus on the colour of the walls, the spider web in the corner of my ceiling, the delicate strings on my guitar. I tried to find my way back into the moment. This moment. This minute. But all I could see was him. All I could think of was his smile, his laugh, the dimple in his chin. Nothing I tried could take me away from him. He was engraved inside my mind and I could not get him out. And a part of me didn’t want to. I didn’t want to accept it but when I let myself think about him, dream about him, imagine what it might be like for him to smile his crooked toothy grin at me, Well I have never felt more alive. I have never felt less lost. Before I could let myself think, I took the notebook and pen back in my hands and began drawing what I truly needed to let out of my mind. The dimples, the smile, the golden curls, it all came pouring freely out of my fingers. It was like I couldn’t stop. I had turned the tap on and now it was broken. The more I drew, the more I needed to draw. Because it wasn’t enough. Drawing him was never enough. Suddenly my focus was broken by the ringing of my phone. I reluctantly put my pen down and took a deep breath before answering the call. I didn’t have to look at the screen to know who it was. I exhaled deeply before singing cheerfully into the phone “Hello Beautiful” “Darling, you sound good!” Sonja exclaimed back. I could practically feel the pride in her voice, see the smile and bright buzz in her eyes as she heard me because I was playing the right part. I was being her Even in the movie she has written for me. I am being the person she wants. “You’re feeling good right?” she pressed when I didn’t answer. For a minute it flashed in my mind that maybe, I should tell her. Sonja knew me better than anyone, if I talked to her about this new obsession of mine, maybe she could tell me what it was? Maybe she could help me move past it. Did I want to move past it? Before I could utter a single word to her though, she asked another question. “It’s time to take your meds hun, have you done that yet?” I sucked in a breath and looked down at the time. Woah it was 7:00pm already. I spent two hours drawing, lost in the curves and edges of someone I didn’t even know the name of, and I had no idea. This boy literally made me lose track of time and honestly there was something inside me that loved it. For two hours. I didn’t think, I didn’t worry. I didn’t care. I was free. He made me free. And Sonja who was still waiting on the other side of the phone was calling me right when I should be taking my meds, to make sure that I was learning my lines. I lifted myself off my bed and down the ladder, to get my small bottle of pills from my sock drawer. After I swallowed one I told Sonja cheerfully “Yep done” and waited for the praise. “Good work, I love you.” She replied, right on cue. Just like a film I had seen fifty times, I knew every single word, and I knew when it was coming. So when she said it, it was almost like the words didn’t matter anymore. It was like the feeling they used to give had just transformed into something I knew so well, and it was so cliché that it had become meaningless. Just like when I watched Sleepless in Seattle. The first 5 times were good. Brilliant. First time felt special. The second time felt good. And the 3 times after that made me feel safe. But every time after, the story became so imprinted in my mind that it didn’t make me feel anything real anymore. It just felt like I was watching it because it was what I knew. It was what made me feel like someone I used to be. And I wanted that person back. “I gotta go, homework.” I told Sonja and ended the call before she could guess that something wasn’t right. Before she could tell that I might be going off script. I went back to bed and thought about the boy again. I’ve spent two weeks without learning his name because I thought as soon as I asked. As soon as I learnt more about him, this feeling I felt, the power he had over me, this need I had to know him, well it would all become real. And I would be accepting that I couldn’t go on as if I never saw him. I couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t anything. Because if he had a name then he was real. And if he was real, and not just a figment of my imagination, then I just could not go on without knowing more about him, more about the person he was behind that smile, and the sadness I sometimes see in his eyes. I would have to know more. I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. And I knew that to be truer than anything else. Because somehow just looking at this boy, thinking of him, drawing him, it made me feel more real and more me, than anything else in the world. And just like that my addiction truly began.

[illfigureitoutasigoalong]

my flea dream lol

My weird dream

I had a “flea” dream last night lol. Once my sister had a dream that she was a flea and killed mufasa?? And woke up and was terrified but like the content of the dream was not scary. I had one last night which right now is a little scary. OMG so it wasn’t a nightmare because it was scary, but it was intense and my heart was beating fast when I woke up. So it started out really weird and the direct result of me watching too many episodes of breaking polygamy. I was on a date with an FLDS looking woman in a restaurant that looked gross and I would never go there in real life. What’s weird is that I’ve had dreams in this restaurant before? Anyway I was wearing an amazing cute outfit with a blazer at this date and my weird amish looking date looked…. Amish. And the waiter took her order and then looked to me and goes “are you a man or a boy?” And I was immediately offended hahaha I was just like “what??” And the waiter was like “suit jackets are for men.” I immediately left the restaurant and there was no other sight of my weird date. I got in my car (which was my old gold Honda RIP) and who is inside??? MY EX GIRLFRIEND. That’s when this turned into a nightmare tbh. My least favorite version of her was her when we were in the car and she was driving. In my dream though we were not dating we were just friends after dating. But she was acting weird and possessive and stuff like we were still together. She drove us around being literally the most annoying version of herself. She spilled coffee, got us lost, was extra Vegan, and just generally very annoying. She like had this “I know I’m right attitude” that I used to hate or more like “I don’t care if I’m wrong” attitude. Terrible. As we were driving to my dream house I just got more and more miserable.

THEN the number one reason we broke up, she invited herself to a family party that was being thrown at my house. (Also weird thing about my house in this dream is that it was in the field that used to be there before they built a Walmart on winterpok rd. Also all the women in my family were lined up with red Pizza Hut uniforms and name tags and everyone had a fluffy twist out like they had blowdried their hair??? (Probably another side effect of me watching too much breaking polygamy lmao because they all wear their hair the same on there. I remember members of my family there but also members from the country church we used to go to like 15 years ago. Honestly who even knows why they were also there. I was immediately excited to see all of them and forgot to be annoyed at S. I remember singing “10-20-40” to them as I walked by. Literally so weird.)

SO. As we were driving S had stopped at Pizza Hut which was on the corner in the dream and my dream solution was to run home before she could find me, and get into my weird house before she saw me so that one of my family members would intercept her. It semi worked? I snuck into the basement locker room of my house to (take a shower I guess) and I hear her coming in the alternate entrance. (Random memory about this dream, she was dressed like jojo siwa. Which is odd but its also totally how she would have dressed in like, high school. Literally why did I date this woman) And I see her legs under like a weird stall door that leads to the basement locker room and we start having a screaming match about her even being in my house which is when I woke up with my heart beating fast. I’m trying to even remember what I said but I remember a few parts?

S: “I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me!” (I guess to come into my house? What’s weird about this argument is that I felt the same guilty sense of dread that I used to feel when I didn’t feel like hanging out with her. Cool. Love that for me)

Me: “I had a very not good day, which I know isn’t an excuse.” So eloquent of me. Brilliant grammar. I was referring to being called a man on my weird date, for some reason in my dream this really distressed me.

S: “That’s not an excuse!” (She had cut me off as I was saying the last part)

Me: “I JUST said it’s not an excuse and I’m fucking trying to apologize and you won’t let me!”

And that’s when I woke up. I wish I had stayed asleep longer because I was about to yell at her for 1. We aren’t dating anymore and she was no longer entitled to my time and 2. That she was always inviting herself into places that she just didn’t belong or didn’t fit. This would have gotten ugly so you know it’s probably for the best but still. lol.

So what do I do? I get up and read her reddit posts to make sure she’s still completely unrelateable and surprise surprise she is. So I am making it a vow to stop doing that because all it really does is just make me even more flabbergasted about why I even dated her for so long or even dated her at all. I know deep down that my reasoning was “eh, why not? I need girlfriend experience.” Instead of “wow I am actually interested in this person.” So yep. Never doing that again. And I know it’s terrible but I really want to date someone in my race next time. It’s just easier.

Also I have been thinking about downloading a dating app but I only want friends. I don’t feel like dating anyone right now and also I feel like in order to have a good time in a relationship I need to lose like 150 pounds. Anyway I typed this on my work laptop and I hope if someone reads this later they get a big kick out of it. Hahahah

Also! I text MB all day every day because I think we are both lonely. Yesterday on FT she said “I wish you were a man then we could date.” This really freaked me out. At first (like months ago) my brain was like “oh shit are we about to get a crush” but thank GOD I only feel friendship feelings for her. She’s just really young and very white and sometimes those things are glaringly obvious. It just freaked me out because it made me think like “oh should we be dating???” but the ultimate answer is no. not to mention a week or so ago we had a discussion where she thought i was always mad at her for being racist. But i have to call her out sometimes on the ignorant shit she says. Like ordinarily i would just let people get away with it but if we are gonna be as close of friends as we already are then you gotta know when you mess up. Sorry. But you do.

I was able to get a nintendo switch!! I am having a great time. I just wish my sister was able to get one too. I feel like I can’t be properly excited because she’s really bummed about not being able to get one. I am checking the site over and over again to see if I can get one for her. Also she’s bummed about her job role transitioning for the lend position. I would also be very upset but at the same time she should be just a little grateful for still having a job at this point. I would never say that though. And also i’m not in her shoes so I can’t really judge. I would be PISSED if I climbed my way up the ladder just to be stuck doing what I view as “non-degree work.”

This is terrible but finally the tables have turned in my favor? Hear me out ok. For years I’ve struggled with my health and my job. I was diagnosed with diabetes and high BP when I was 19. I graduated without a job, and worked 5 shitty and semi-shitty jobs for the past 5 years. Finally I have a job that I love (hopefully that lasts) that pays me decently, and I can afford my meds on my new insurance, I stay hydrated which makes me feel better and I’ve gotten really used to listening to my body. I also have accepted my health problems and I am really good at keeping a level head about things. Now though, all of the stuff I already went through and I am dealing with accordingly are happening to my sister and she is miserable. She had a shitty job change (it’s only temporary, but she is WALLOWING in it.) and was diagnosed with asthma. The inhaler gives her heart palpitations and she completely freaks out over them. I’m really not trying to be rude but at least you know they are a side effect and her heart isn’t just going crazy for no reason. But she has been in a terrible mood for weeks and every time she takes her inhaler she has like, an episode. First of all, my mom would have never let me get away with this behavior for so long because I’ve always been kind of sullen and panicky. But also I think sometimes my sister just really needs to grow up. Shitty things happen to everyone and you kind of just have to keep going forward.

AND speaking of growing up, we are trying to look at apartments in the same complex because I feel like honestly she will forget about me if we don’t live within walking distance of each other. I don’t know how much she gets paid but it can’t be much more than me. She’s looking at places with one bedroom that are like $1,500 a month.... like that’s the base rent price. She’s not even counting the security deposit and utilities. I tried to explain it to her and she’s like “I’m pretty sure all apartments cost this much around here.” I’m so sorry but no. They don’t. I’m not paying almost 2 grand a month to live where we do. That’s crazy to me. I found a place I like but she doesn’t seem to like it. I may just have to move there and just be sad for a while when she forgets to hang out with me.

Last thing I guess (since I should be working) I want to write a lesbian romance novel! I am in a bit of a book slump so why not write one of my own. Wouldn’t that be amazing if it could be published??? I have no idea how to write a book so honestly it’s a pipe dream but I was really good at writing fanfiction! It’s gotta be similar right?

[psychotherapyconsultants]

Podcast: A Bipolar and a Schizophrenic Get Triggered by a Movie



We all realize that movies are fiction, but that doesn’t mean that we should take nothing seriously. When a movie makes a portrayal of an individual, for example, that’s full of racial stereotypes, we’re justified in saying that it isn’t okay. 

It’s no different for portrayals of mental illness. In this episode, Gabe and Michelle discuss just such a portrayal in a movie that Michelle found highly offensive. Listen to see if you agree.

SUBSCRIBE & REVIEW

“This is just another way to dismiss our feelings.” – Gabe Howard

  Highlights From ‘Schizophrenia in the Movies’ Episode

[1:00] Michelle has been triggered by an 8-year-old movie called “The Roommate.”

[5:00] Discussing why this movie makes no sense.

[6:30] How Gabe and Michelle handle talking about medications.

[10:00] Why did this movie make Michelle feel so offended?

[12:00] Why this movie is bad for the mental health system.

[16:30] Movies that show mental illness in a good way.

[19:00] How people interpret movies with mentally ill characters.

Transcript From ‘Schizophrenia in the Movies’ Episode

Editor’s Note: Please be mindful that this transcript has been computer generated and therefore may contain inaccuracies and grammar errors. Thank you.

Narrator: [00:00:09] For reasons that utterly escape everyone involved, you’re listening to A Bipolar, a Schizophrenic, and a Podcast. Here your hosts Gabe Howard and Michelle Hammer

Gabe: [00:00:18] Hello everybody and welcome to a bipolar a schizophrenic and a podcast. My name is Gabe and I’m the bipolar one.

Michelle: [00:00:24] Hi Michelle I’m the schizophrenic one and the better one.

Gabe: [00:00:27] The better one really.

Michelle: [00:00:29] The better one.

Gabe: [00:00:29] Right before we started recording. You told me that you were the hot one because I was a…

Michelle: [00:00:34] Not hot one.

Gabe: [00:00:35] No you called me a fat ass.

Michelle: [00:00:36] No I didn’t. Why are you going to say that? I never called you a fat ass.

Gabe: [00:00:39] Your exact words were, You were a fat ass that needs to go to the gym.

Michelle: [00:00:42] No.

Gabe: [00:00:43] That’s hurtful.

Michelle: [00:00:44] That’s so mean. I would never say that.

Gabe: [00:00:46] Speaking of mean things that people would never say that often get said, Michelle you were triggered by an 8-year-old movie.

Michelle: [00:00:53] Oh my God. I can’t believe but that was some segue Gabe. I really like hated that.

Gabe: [00:00:57] I mean it’s our way.

Michelle: [00:00:58] It’s really. That was smooth. That was real slick. Well okay, my friend. Okay. I’m watching a movie. My friends says “Oh we gotta watch this movie, The Roommate. The Roommate is such a good movie. It’s like kind of freaky it’s kind of weird. We should so watch the movie The Roommate.” So I’m gonna watch the movie The Roommate. Okay.

Gabe: [00:01:19] How many times you gonna say roommate.

Michelle: [00:01:21] I’m just gonna the roommate not through the roommate.

Gabe: [00:01:24] You know, listen, the audience understands that you watched a movie and it was called The Roommate. You can carry on okay.

Michelle: [00:01:31] Here is here’s the little a trailer description – when college freshman Sarah arrives on campus for the first time, she befriends her roommate Rebecca, unaware that the girl is becoming dangerously obsessed with her. So Rebecca seems to have some issues. She’s becoming very obsessed with her roommate Sarah. She’s scaring away Sarah’s friends that are getting in between their relationship. She even goes as far to killing her ex-boyfriend.  And at one point you’d meet her parents and then you hear her mother or father one of them says Rebecca. You been taking your medicine? And then all of a sudden I was like, interesting. What is this movie really about? So then the roommate Sarah who is being stalked, they go through her drawers and they find a bottle of pills. No, I didn’t see what it said on the pill box, but then they go to the computer. And you know how in movies they usually make up different pills names like we do for the show? But they didn’t it in this movie. They go into like Google search or whatever and search for a pill name. And guess what it was? Something that I take.

Gabe: [00:02:46] Oh my God. So wait are you Rebecca?

Michelle: [00:02:50] No but I’ve never been more offended because they used the antipsychotic that I take. They look it up and they go Oh my God it says this pill’s used for the treatment of bipolar or schizophrenia. Oh no. And all the sudden I was like, oh my goodness. This has got to be one of the most offensive things I’ve ever watched.

Gabe: [00:03:12] Wait wait wait hang on. It was for the treatment of bipolar and schizophrenia that they’re now I’m a offended.

Michelle: [00:03:17] Now you’re a offended.

Gabe: [00:03:18] Yeah. What it was just about you I was like oh you’re overreacting. But since they actually said bipolar and this is this is this will not stand this. This is bullshit.

Michelle: [00:03:27] I know and it had Leighton Meester in it also and I liked her.

Gabe: [00:03:31] I can’t believe that this movie has existed for eight years without our rage.

Michelle: [00:03:34] I don’t want to watch a movie made eight years ago about a girl with bipolar or schizophrenia that isn’t taking her antipsychotic because maybe we can make roommate the roommate too. I’ll stop taking my antipsychotic and then people can look in the drawer and find that pill and see that I’ve not been taking it and Google it.

Gabe: [00:03:57] And just like that and just life comes to a head. Let’s do explore this for a moment. I mean just in case the podcast doesn’t work out because I suspect that you would be the killer and that I would be the victim but it wouldn’t have anything to do with your schizophrenia. It would more have to do with us being locked in a room for hours on end with recording equipment and at what can be called the podcast.

Michelle: [00:04:24] The podcast.

Gabe: [00:04:25] Right. Yeah but you’ve got to say it like in that voice that you use to describe the roommate.

Michelle: [00:04:28] The podcast. Oh I have to add I was watching this movie at night so after before I went to bed I made sure to take that pill. So I did not kill my roommate that night.

Michelle: [00:04:40] First let’s address a couple of things right out of the bat. Obviously you have not been on this particular medication for your entire life.

Michelle: [00:04:47] No.

Gabe: [00:04:48] So before you took that pill did you want to murder anybody.

Michelle: [00:04:52] No.

Gabe: [00:04:53] Okay. And do you honestly believe that if you stopped taking that pill tomorrow you would start killing people.

Michelle: [00:04:59] Absolutely not.

Gabe: [00:05:00] And to further drive this point into the ground. There are plenty of people that become obsessed with their friends roommates spouses boyfriends girlfriends that have no mental illness or schizophrenia. They just cray.

Michelle: [00:05:18] Yes.

Gabe: [00:05:19] Yeah. I mean listen I do in fact have bipolar disorder but you know I was a teenager once and I know it’s hard to separate out you know bipolar Gabe from actual Gabe but I do believe that you know the reason that I spent my prom night crying is because that lady dumped me and I was sad and I hated her new jock boyfriend and probably not because I was bipolar. I think this is just like a standard thing that happens to.

Michelle: [00:05:44] Understandable.

Michelle: [00:05:44] I would say that’s understandable. I get it. Yeah. Yeah.

Gabe: [00:05:48] So but the fact that I had bipolar disorder and wasn’t yet medicated didn’t make me kill anybody. I mean just. Right. And I’ve never been violent and I’ve never had the urge to kill people even though I to take a psychiatric medication. And this of course offends us because now people are looking at us like uh oh if Gabe and Michelle stopped taking their meds we’re going to be.

Michelle: [00:06:10] Killers.

Gabe: [00:06:12] Yes.

Gabe: [00:06:15] Michelle I am so sorry that you had to watch Netflix at home while not working. I mean I’m so sorry you had to go through this experience with this movie but doesn’t it suck. I mean it doesn’t media.

Michelle: [00:06:25] I just couldn’t believe. They used our real medication name right.

Gabe: [00:06:30] Do you remember the episode where we talked about side effects of medication.

Michelle: [00:06:34] Yeah.

Gabe: [00:06:34] And what did I name the medication that that helped fix.

Michelle: [00:06:39] Dicks-A-Poppin.

Gabe: [00:06:40] Right. We had Dicks-A-Poppin in which was the I guess you know E.D. medicine because it cured the medical diagnosis of.

Michelle: [00:06:48] Dicks-A-Floppin.

Gabe: [00:06:49] Yeah. We got nothing right on that. Doesn’t it bother you though. Look we all know it bothers us. We don’t need to be coy but we try to be responsible with this show. We’re not Hollywood as much as we have tried to delude ourselves into saying that we have millions upon millions of fans. We don’t.

Michelle: [00:07:07] I’ve never deluded myself to that. Maybe that’s just you.

Gabe: [00:07:11] Listen I believe that there are millions of people we just can’t track them because one person downloads it and then plays it in front of a live auditorium stealing our thunder. I know this happens.

Michelle: [00:07:21] Obviously you’re off the meds.

Michelle: [00:07:24] You’re on the meds and you’re in a stalk somebody and you’re going to be obsessed to them and you’re going to you’re going to kill their ex-boyfriend.

Gabe: [00:07:32] This is not the only movie that you have ever seen in your life that has to do with.

Michelle: [00:07:39] I’ve seen many a movie in many a Disney movie in my life.

Gabe: [00:07:43] Oh well Disney movies I’m fairly certain are all about mental illness.

Michelle: [00:07:48] Well I mean I was flying a magic carpet.

Gabe: [00:07:50] Magic carpet ride.

Gabe: [00:07:53] Michelle this is not the first pop culture portrayal of mental illness that we’ve ever seen. It sounds like this one bothered you so much because it hits so close to home. You are a woman you have a roommate and you’re on this exact same medication. So if you start acting in a way that people don’t like they can easily say Oh it’s because of the medication rather than address with you whatever this is just another way to dismiss our feelings that that’s kind of how I see it.

Michelle: [00:08:27] I completely agree with you because they were just saying Oh she’s off her meds. That’s why she’s crazy. Like why isn’t she seeing a therapist?

Gabe: [00:08:36] Well why are you asking me for it and write the damn thing.

Michelle: [00:08:38] I don’t know who wrote this movie? I’m going to look it up. I’m sending them an email.

Gabe: [00:08:44] Really.

Michelle: [00:08:45] Whoever wrote this movie.

Michelle: [00:08:46] This writer Sunny Molly I’m writing you an e-mail Sunny Molly.

Gabe: [00:08:53] You should probably learn to pronounce his name.

Michelle: [00:08:55] Whatever your name is. Sunny Molly. Well I never heard of you in anything else but you might have done other stuff. You wrote a very insulting movie.

Gabe: [00:09:06] Now is it insulting or is it insensitive.

Michelle: [00:09:11] No it is insulting. I was just so insulted.

Michelle: [00:09:15] I was really really insulted because I’m watching the movie with somebody I see that I go Oh that’s my medicine. Oh now the person that I am with is thinking oh is that going to happen to you if you stop taking your medicine. I was seriously asked that in that moment.

Gabe: [00:09:32] Were you offended that the killer was a woman.

Michelle: [00:09:37] No.

Gabe: [00:09:37] But you’re also a woman.

Michelle: [00:09:38] Why would I care.

Michelle: [00:09:39] There’s many women in the world. There’s not as many people who take that medication. And I felt singled out.

Gabe: [00:09:48] It’s not that the killer was a female or a young female or even a young white female. It’s that she was a schizophrenic. Taking a medicine that you take an antipsychotic medication and then it pulled in the trope of if you don’t take your medicine you will become violent.

Michelle: [00:10:04] Yeah.

Gabe: [00:10:04] And all of that connected for people because of their own biases misunderstanding and ignorance. To then look over at you and try to draw a parallel where before you watch the movie that didn’t exist. Right. Like in your friend group because you watched a movie you were now looked down upon.

Michelle: [00:10:23] Yeah well I was asked oh if you don’t take that well things like that happen.

Gabe: [00:10:28] We’ll be right back after we hear from our sponsor.

Narrator: [00:10:31] This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp.com. Secure, convenient, and affordable online counseling. Our counselors are licensed, accredited professionals. Anything you share is confidential. Schedule secure video or phone sessions, plus chat and text with your therapist, whenever you feel it’s needed. A month of online therapy often costs less than a single traditional face-to-face session. Go to BetterHelp.com/PsychCentral and experience seven days of free therapy to see if online counseling is right for you. BetterHelp.com/PsychCentral.

Michelle: [00:11:02] Hey everyone, we wanted to tell you about Emergency Dentists USA — they love the show and wanted us to give them a shout out. Emergency Dentists USA is a 24-hour dental referral service that specializes in finding emergency dentists who accept patients with no insurance and offer low-interest payment plans.  We are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, even on holidays.  Our staff is knowledgeable and friendly and can find local, emergency dentists in your area, for any dental emergency you may face. Visit them online and now back to the show.

Gabe: [00:11:44] I think that there’s another side that we need to talk about as well which is let’s say that you are a young woman with schizophrenia and you see this movie and then a doctor tries to prescribe you that medication.

Michelle: [00:11:53] Good point.

Gabe: [00:11:54] You’re going to say look I don’t want that. I’m not violent. That movie stops killers. I’m not a killer so I need a different medication. And now you’re going to resist to the treatment all because you don’t want to be lumped in with a fictional movie. Let me back up for a second. I just have to say this. I want to say this to the whole world. You can you can clip this out of the podcast and play it for everybody.

Gabe: [00:12:14] Listen animals don’t talk. People can’t fly. There’s no such thing as superheroes. We all understand how fiction works in movies for almost every other thing but for whatever reason whenever there’s any mentally ill character we suddenly think that Hollywood is producing a documentary about our lives and saying this is what mentally ill people act like. Really.

Michelle: [00:12:38] Did I ever tell you the time there was like somebody was writing a film in L.A. that film on schizophrenia and they wanted me to like talk to the lead actress and they wanted me to read the scripts and everything. The lead actress like I spoke to her she calls me and all she’s saying is that like oh tell me your story. And I was like Well do you do you know anything like you know about schizophrenia how to act like it. She’s like Oh well I’m like a really good actress. And I’m like Well do you know any mannerisms of people with schizophrenia. You know how they act. And she just was like blew the whole thing off like oh she goes that I was like you know a lot of people with schizophrenia don’t really usually let people in the eye that often just Oh no really. But we’re on Face Time you’re looking at me in the eye and I’m like well we’re on the phone right now. And she just wasn’t even understanding what she would have to be playing if she was playing a schizophrenic person. She just wanted to hear my story and not learn anything from me. And then when the person who had set us up to talk when she e-mailed me can you read our script and tell us how it sounds. I said I don’t want to read your script for free. I work as a mental health advocate and my time is money as well. If you would like me to read your script and you’re trying to support people with mental health issues it would be really nice if you could compensate me and the woman said I completely understand. I’ll talk to the director. The email ceased. Never again. End of it never. Never heard it from them again.

Gabe: [00:14:00] This is a real problem in our circles where people don’t want to gain the right information and if they even make a cursory attempt they want to get it for free. And listen you get what you pay for. And I have no idea if this particular movie “The roommate” hired anybody to talk about mental health mental illness you know chances are look it’s a horror movie that it sounds like it wasn’t very popular because I never even heard of it. So the good news is it didn’t do that much damage because only like 11 people saw this but I get it. Nobody seems to want to understand what it’s like to live with mental illness and portray it in any manner that is even remotely realistic in popular culture and what’s even worse is that the people watching it for whatever reason have decided that it contains factual information. It’s just a story you know and it’s not good or bad or otherwise it’s just fiction. And I wish that people could understand that it’s fiction. We we must make so much progress that people would be like look that’s a fictional portrayal of somebody with schizophrenia.

Michelle: [00:15:10] It’s almost as though people like to make those fictional things up because they want to make sure that they aren’t like that.

Gabe: [00:15:17] Oh sure.

Michelle: [00:15:18] I’m not crazy. They’re crazy. See what crazy looks like. That’s a crazy it looks like and that’s not me.

Gabe: [00:15:23] There you go. Oh and see that’s even scary as well because again back to the point that I made earlier. Let’s say that you’re watching this movie and you’re watching this woman with schizophrenia kill people become obsessed be you know just just weird the way her family is acting around her of course she murders somebody that’s a whole thing.

Michelle: [00:15:40] Yeah.

Gabe: [00:15:40] And then somebody diagnoses you as schizophrenic. You’re like huh no no I’ve never been obsessed. I’m not like you just on and on and on you’re like Let’s listen. I’ve seen what schizophrenia looks like again in a fictional portrayal. And I’ve decided to get some sort of factual basis out of this. And you know this is how we end up with you know politicians that don’t understand facts because they watch some movie about the army and they think they’re generals so it’s not just mental illness.

Gabe: [00:16:10] It just our podcast just happens to be about mental illness. If we switch over to the political spectrum boy do we have some movies that piss us off.

Michelle: [00:16:18] Let’s not even go there.

Gabe: [00:16:22] What are we going to do.

Michelle: [00:16:23] We have nothing to do.

Gabe: [00:16:24] We got nothing to do.

Gabe: [00:16:26] What are some movies that portray somebody with schizophrenia correctly. Do you even know of any.

Michelle: [00:16:32] No.

Gabe: [00:16:34] In the bipolar space.

Gabe: [00:16:35] There are a couple of movies that get close and the most popular one in the most recent one is “Silver Linings Playbook” and I just bring this up to show that Hollywood I think is learning. They are. They are trying you know a horror movie. They sensationalize everything. So you know in fairness and I’m not trying to insult your friends that the fact that they even watched this movie and looked at you that’s kind of insulting. Looks at it. It’s one you know it’s a movie, two you know movies or fiction and three really really?

Michelle: [00:17:04] Yeah.

Gabe: [00:17:04] Like what’s your question again dumbass ass so I get it I get it but I do think that Hollywood is trying. I mean I know that the group didn’t want to pay you but at least they made a cursory attempt that that was that was more than nothing. And to go back to Silver Linings Playbook it wasn’t a bad portrayal. It’s still a fictional movie and I want I want to let people know that if they run out and watch the movie I don’t want them to say hey a man that lives with bipolar disorder said that that was spot on. It wasn’t spot on but it was it was really close and frankly it was it was close enough that for a fictional representation it really didn’t offend me that that really could be somebody’s life with bipolar.

Michelle: [00:17:55] Do you go jogging with a with a trash bag around you.

Gabe: [00:17:58] Listen I don’t. But it’s not the trash bag part.

Michelle: [00:18:01] It’s the jogging.

Gabe: [00:18:07] That I just I just end right there.

Gabe: [00:18:09] Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Not everybody with bipolar disorder wears a trash bag or jogs. Yeah. Yeah. I’m not saying that I’ve never woke up with a trash bag around my neck.

Michelle: [00:18:24] That’s †he next shirt you should sell Trash Bag Chic trash bag.

Michelle: [00:18:28] Yeah I think it’ll look good.

Gabe: [00:18:30] But there were parts of it that really did speak to me the confusion the manic energy him waking up his family in the middle of the night because he got excited about something the desperation to repeat things the way his family had to make apologies for him because he woke up the neighborhood the way he couldn’t let things go.

Gabe: [00:18:48] These were things that that are very stereotypical of somebody who lives with untreated bipolar disorder and they kind of covered that decently saying that he wasn’t necessarily under a lot of control. He didn’t necessarily have the best treatment but ultimately and this is something that I want everybody to know even if that was a documentary even if that was complete fact even if every single thing that happened in Silver Linings Playbook was true and happened exactly like that. That doesn’t mean that that’s how everyone with bipolar disorder behaves.

Michelle: [00:19:23] True.

Gabe: [00:19:23] That means that’s how that dude behaves. So I think we need to get over that as well. It really bothers me that people were like Hey I saw a woman in a movie and now I know how women act or I saw an African-American male in a movie. So that’s how all African-Americans act or you know just on and on and on. But we think this is a society so on the plus side.

Michelle: [00:19:46] It’s just stereotypes.

Michelle: [00:19:47] Yes it’s everyone just making a stereotype.

Gabe: [00:19:49] Stereotypes are the shorthand of the lazy. I don’t want to take the time to get to know you. So I will just figure out whatever stereotype I can and declare my knowledge of you complete and that’s just.

Michelle: [00:20:02] That’s just ignorance.

Gabe: [00:20:03] It’s straight up ignorant and it’s lazy and it’s bullshit and it robs you of getting to know real people.

Michelle: [00:20:10] Some people aren’t worth getting to know.

Gabe: [00:20:12] Well but you won’t know that until you get to know them. Listen when I first met you, you yelled cock ring at the top of your lungs. All right. If I would have been like all right we’ve got a tiny little schizophrenic yelling cock ring I don’t want to be friends with her anymore.

Gabe: [00:20:25] This whole podcast.

Gabe: [00:20:26] I was not yelling cock ring at the top of my lungs. You say that all the time you always bring that up is yelling cock ring. I had a ring I had a ring and what was actually a ring it was a ring that my friend who is a sculpture artist sculpted out of wire a penis on a ring.

Michelle: [00:20:48] So I was calling it a cock ring.

Gabe: [00:20:50] Loudly.

Michelle: [00:20:52] Everyone was asking me about it.

Gabe: [00:20:54] You are a dick on your finger

Michelle: [00:20:57] Whatever it was my ring.

Gabe: [00:20:59] You Know.

Michelle: [00:20:59] I got a lot of comments on that ring.

Gabe: [00:21:01] Yeah no shit. Most people do not wear genitalia on their finger when they meet business people for the first time.

Michelle: [00:21:09] I stopped wearing it after a week because I was getting too many looks OK but if you weren’t that ring hit me up I’ll get one made for you. I think our final thoughts for today is if you’re going to make a movie about a girl with a mental illness don’t pick an actual medication’s name make up a name use that and if you’re going to watch a movie with some friends and before you ask your friend or really dumb question just just just think twice.

Gabe: [00:21:43] Just think twice maybe just think it all like I don’t know I don’t think there was a first thought.

Michelle: [00:21:46] I mean if you’ve known your friend for like over a year Don’t ask a question based on a movie you just saw that came out in 2011.

Gabe: [00:21:55] You know it’s gonna be awesome if you and your friend are not friends after this podcast. It means your friend was good enough to listen to the show that you’re hosting. So that’s just going to be a real travesty. Thank you everybody for tuning into this week’s episode of a bipolar a schizophrenic and a podcast. Please head over to store.PychCentral.com by our Define Normal shirt. We are almost out of them and once they are gone they are probably gone forever.

Gabe: [00:22:21] Also radios everywhere share tell your friends. Michelle and I are on a course with destiny and your

Michelle: [00:22:28] Roommates.

Narrator: [00:22:30] You’ve been listening to A Bipolar, a Schizophrenic, and a Podcast. If you love this episode, don’t keep it to yourself. Head on over to iTunes or your preferred podcast app. Subscribe, rate, and review. To work with Gabe go to GabeHoward.com. To work with Michelle, go to Schizophrenic.NYC. For free mental health resources and online support groups, head over to PsychCentral.com. The show’s official Web site is PsychCentral.com/BSP. You can e-mail us at show@PsychCentral.com. Thank you for listening, and share widely.

  Meet Your Bipolar and Schizophrenic Hosts

GABE HOWARD was formally diagnosed with bipolar and anxiety disorders after being committed to a psychiatric hospital in 2003. Now in recovery, Gabe is a prominent mental health activist and host of the award-winning Psych Central Show podcast. He is also an award-winning writer and speaker, traveling nationally to share the humorous, yet educational, story of his bipolar life. To work with Gabe, visit gabehoward.com.

  MICHELLE HAMMER was officially diagnosed with schizophrenia at age 22, but incorrectly diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18. Michelle is an award-winning mental health advocate who has been featured in press all over the world. In May 2015, Michelle founded the company Schizophrenic.NYC, a mental health clothing line, with the mission of reducing stigma by starting conversations about mental health. She is a firm believer that confidence can get you anywhere. To work with Michelle, visit Schizophrenic.NYC.

from World of Psychology https://psychcentral.com/blog/podcast-a-bipolar-and-a-schizophrenic-get-triggered-by-a-movie/