#i am plagued with mental illness and the only thing that can save me is gay boys dancing for their rights

[koats-n-goats]

Newsies 1992 being so bad (according to critics) that Disney LOST like 12 million dollars making it and it was a box office flop but several years later I watched a clip of Seize The Day at a 5th grade pep rally and it became my driving force for the rest of my life and literally prevented my death multiple times I think that means that my soul is worth 12 million dollars thanks

[definitelynotshouting]

context: ik most of my asks are pretty disorganized, stream of consciousness type of thing but GEEZ this got out of hand. you know that thing cats do when they bring you a dead mouse and *they're* super proud of it and you're just like dude.. why /lh

i usually put whatever my immediate thoughts are after reading the chapter and this time i thought it might be fun to write it out before. can you tell im running on five hours of sleep?? lmk if this made any coherent sense because even i dont understand it!!

so last chapter ripped my heartt out and stomped on it. i am LIVING for the way this whole thing was written, gorgeous prose as always <3. i was very curious as to wether Mumbo would question Grian but i think him NOT doing that was SO in character, and i adore it. I feel like w/ some fics (my own writing included) Scar is the ONLY one Grian relies on for support (in ANY area), and whenever Mumbo is even in the picture, he's just kinda "there", he doesn't check up on Grian or broach the topic of whatever is currently plaguing our little bird guy (basically, he's not involved in Grian's life despite being "his best friend"). And the way you characterized him was just So Real?? I would wager a guess (correct me if im wrong ofc) that part of it is that he just DOESNT know, (because Grian is oh so good at telling half truths and privately justifying his self sabotage) but a part of it is also him being lowkey willfully ignorant. he doesnt WANT Grian to be sick (mentally or otherwise) but definetly knows that SOMETHING is up. he really WANTS to help fix whatever is going on (evident by the gold farm) but he doesnt know what Grian needs or how to help him.

i have been OBSESSING over how Grian saying goodnight to Mumbo was ACTUALLY his goodbye to him but Mumbo DOESNT KNOW AND ITS EATING ME ALIVE. (also thought it was super interesting how Grian sort of took Mumbo leaving to sleep as "permission" to do the deed)

side ish note: how tf does Grian even plan to do that?? ik he's got the spider eyes and i *think* he's planning to turn the healing potions into weakness potions but like?? how is he going to do that??? i would assume that the gang would be watching the potions AS they were brewing, and even if they weren't, healing potions and weakness potions are.... vastly different colors. (unless im mixing them up with something else). also aren't they going to walk in on him prepping or already being in the middle of it and just save him like last time? the team as a whole has done a pretty good job on keeping an eye on Grian (from just a "this person can't walk" standpoint) so far. is he waiting for a chance when everyone is busy or does he plan to use MORE weakness potions to make it stronger or quicker?? im interested to see if he's even going to follow The Plan, because up until this point he's been pretty careful with trying to make plans and sneak around EXCEPT for the spider eyes basement adventure, which makes me wonder is he'll get more frantic/desperate as the appointed time draws closer.

Real talk though, Mumbo (and everyone else) is going to be beating himself up over not noticing when stuff goes down (which i would assume would be next chapter, but idk). Also, the fact that Grian asked him to stay means A LOT. To me (and idk if this is what you meant to convey) that signals that a part of him WANTS to stay. theres a part of him that wants to continue to experience the comfort and joy he gets from his friends, but he feels like he's only going to continue to hurt them, so to him this is the ONLY option to keep them safe. also the majority of his existence is just misery and pain so thats probably not helping. (PLUS the whole slew of mental health issues, this is not purely self sacrificial).

anyway, i LOVED this chapter as always, it was like chicken noodle soup for my overworked little soul and i savored every bit of it!! (also, no need to apologize for not having enough spoons!! i dont have any chronic illnesses but i know that shit sucks. this is a particularly long ask for me so dont feel compelled to answer everything in it, or answer right away. hope ur doing well <3)

-🐛

BUG ANONNNN THIS COMMENT IS SO SWEET AND I LOVED READING IT OMGGGG

you hit the nail exactly on the head for where im going with mumbo's characterization-- there is 100% a level of willful ignorance there. Ive always felt like mumbo is the kind of guy who has a thing about avoidance-- he feels very much like a character who will absolutely do his best to ignore things that hes decided arent his business (right up until he stops LMFAO) and part of that in hunger au is him being so anxious for grian to get better that he stops looking at the red flags grian is aggressively waving around. It'll work out!! He's sure of it!! Grian even directly said he's trying to get better!! And i think if he looked at that for longer than it takes for him to flinch away from the entire subject, he would see how much of a bald lie that is.

But he doesnt, because thats a LOT to deal with, and hes never really??? Seen this side of Grian before??? Not the way Pearl and Scar have. Theres a lot of intricacy there that i feel im skimming over but like Mumbo is very much keeping his own sanity in mind here too and thats another painful factor to the whole situation. Idk i have lots of thoughts about it and about the choice here to depict Mumbo giving in to that willful ignorance, and how its going to affect his and Grian's relationship in the future of the fic

(Quick tw for frank discussions of suicide below)

You've also completely nailed the subtext i was getting at with Grian asking Mumbo to stay-- smth ive always felt is a bit underrepresented in narratives like these are how at its most base core, suicide and suicidal ideation are often about needing something to fundamentally change in your life. It takes a LOT of both hopelessness and sheer willpower to actively try and overcome your body's instinctive will to survive. That instinct is baked into our very cells; when someone commits, it means their hopelessness for meaningful change to happen in their lives was so strong it overpowered everything else. And that is something deeply, deeply tragic, and also something i really wanted to respectfully highlight in this portrayal-- how bad things are when you spiral that far. Grian is starving to death. He wasnt lying about maybe having a week to live-- the intermittent feeding has kept him alive longer than anticipated, but its like trying to wall off an avalanche; theres only so much you can do in the face of all that :( and that hopelessness, in combination with how guilty he feels for what he did to his friends, has manifested in him feeling like his only recourse is to kill himself... but at the same time, that instinct to survive and KEEP SURVIVING is still blaring in his veins, and that manifests as him asking Mumbo to stay. Its a bit paradoxical, but its meant to really show how bad his mental state is, that he is willfully ignoring all the frantic signals his body is screaming at him to try and stay alive rn 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Also, with the potions-- without revealing too much about how this is going to happen, Grian is planning on making fermented spider eyes and using them to turn the healing potions into harming potions, which he'll then drink in the in-between to make sure he dies immediately. Now.. i know how this is gonna go, and i know the exact mechanics around how this is gonna shake out, but smth to keep in mind is hes not thinking logically anymore, he has FULLY capitulated to his own storm of emotional wreckage. So yes there are DEFINITELY some questions to be asked about how hes gonna try and get this done, but in all honesty they mostly boil down to "sheer opportunity" which you'll see a bit more of in the next chapter >:] but yeah its meant to be a bit illogical skdbwkdjskd since he just isnt thinking coherently anymore at this point :(

Bug anon thank u for my entire life this comment was so sweet and so wonderful to receive, i really love it when my writing is analyzed like this and seen and understood!!! Its amazing its such a wonderful feeling to have your work be seen like this and its something i very much do not take for granted :]]]❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ tysm for the ask i am seriously treasuring it SO MUCH rn (and also thank you for the well-wishes!! Im doing my best to stay silly out here HEHE)❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[sneezemonster15]

Okay yeah this. Gotta share this. So I love watching cute animal vids like all the other thousand people per square mile, and recently I stumbled onto this one. And of course it reminded me of them, like duh, look at them.

Also now look at the comments and how not so eerily similar they are to the dialogues that go on here. @teddywiththumbs is the op, owner of the cats.

Now just to be clear, yeah cats can be gay. Along with most other animal species. Homosexual behaviour and courtship has been widely documented across species. And yeah, there is the issue of anthropomorphism (the attribution of human-like qualities to animals) as well. But I just can't help but notice how people like the commenter simply don't see what they are actually responding to when they get offended with a woman, the owner of the cats, simply stating a fact about the cats she owns. They don't see it so they think they aren't being homophobic but they are.

This is a response that I am sure some of you will relate with.

Hahahaha. No seriously, this is the case isn't it?

Sometimes when I see these posts made by SNS fans here, and in spirit they read like the creation of bards of the yore who crooned graphic songs of eternal, fantastical love about two boys who once were and were made for each other.....and I wonder if the term shipping came from 'worshipping'? Maybe it did.. Heh.

They are talking about the love, the absolute spectacle of the romance of Sasuke and Naruto, aren't they? But all that is reduced to an outcome of the mental illnesses that plague these fujoshis and dirty lesbians. What this says is, this kind of bias doesn't exist just in fandoms, it is simply a reflection of the larger society, fandoms are made of the same people. This gives us a look at how people generally think of homosexuality, fandom is simply one of the many microcosms.

Hehehe accurate. Or friends, brothers, comrades, etc.

No seriously, just to see how quickly reactive people become when it comes to homosexuality, like what a potent trigger it is. How easy it is for people to be so upset at something that is simply natural, a fact of life. And this is just cats they are talking about, but how well it translates to other things...

Like the outrage, the desperate need to explain it away in a 'safe way'......they really harassed the op for talking about her own cats. Like no one even waited a second to google how it is possible for animals to be "gay", just like some fans here who could have saved a lot of trouble if only they had used the internet for things other than reading het smut.

What I am saying is, look how similar the narratives are. It doesn't matter if it's cats or humans, it's not about that. It's about ingrained homophobia. It doesn't say so much about cats and love, it says how uncomfortable it makes people to even consider normalising homosexuality, that seeing it so clearly portrayed or documented in media really triggers their prejudices so unquestioningly, so unerringly, so insidiously, so organically, that they don't realize what they are actually reacting to and how deeply biased they are. Good thing the op was quite insightful.

It really says a lot about people's attitudes and sublimated prejudices. The op knows homosexuality makes people deeply wary, feel deeply wronged, they feel as if they are entitled to their outrage. It results in reiterating the "natural order" of things and showing righteous indignation at what they think 'maligns' it. It is the same blueprint, settings may differ.

[annabelle--cane]

at the risk of sounding Really Bad and with the caveat that I mean this in the most pro vaccine pro taking Covid extremely seriously way possible. I think conflating mental health/personal hobbies and habits with physical health and wellness in the time of a literal plague is actually part of why we are where we are. The example of opting out of treating a broken bone that you used is the perfect metaphor because that’s something that mostly effects the person with the broken bone. But if you’re treating every goddamn thing a person can do like it’s potentially viral it makes it easy to sound reasonable to advocate for a lot of vigilance against individual choice. Is this totally off base? do I sound like a reactionary dipshit conspiracy theorist right now? Just… there’s something here right??

even if that isn't the total root cause, I definitely think you're onto something. covid is literally a deadly and disabling viral disease, so the logic of "your actions regarding this impact others" makes total sense, but I think a lot of people took that language and framework and just ran with it, hoping that alluding to a deadly and disabling viral disease would lend credence to their arguments about mental health and personal decisions.

for example, I am constantly thinking about this take I saw on a post about drug decrim in december 2021. it's so special and dear to my heart, it makes no fucking sense at all. the only copy of the screenshot I still have saved is just the tail end of it and it has my annotations, so bear with me.

first, just for a moment, I love the complete breakdown of internal logic. we need to end the stigma around drug abuse but I think using heroin is exactly like being anti-vaxx. we should decriminalize all drugs but you'd have to be craaaazay to think that legalizing them is okay. wait until this person learns that some addiction treatment programs include prescribing opioids as a harm reduction measure.

second, using heroin is in no way like being anti-vaxx oh my god, and this person just can't tell. they are explicitly applying viral disease logic to mental illness* and choices about individual bodily autonomy. I don't want to minimize the pain and distress that can come from having a loved one with a substance use disorder, but in no world is it the same thing as refusing to go to cvs a few times to get a free vaccine against, once again, a deadly and disabling viral disease. groundbreaking leftist take: drug use makes you a hazard and drain on society and honestlyyyy you should think about the consequences of your actions before choosing to become an addict :/

I don't have screenshot for this next example, but I've also seen this language and mindset particularly come up a lot in discussions about "bimboism," makeup, and cosmetic surgery. I've seen several discussion threads where a woman finally just says "look, I'm adult, I've thought about this, I've interrogated myself, and ultimately I still want to do it and I can do what I want with my body" and the comeback to usually is "are you stupid? this isn't just about you, you're a member of a society who inherently expresses your ideology through your choices. the personal is political, stop being so individualistic. what will young girls think when they see you in a miniskirt calling yourself a slut?"

again, the final point that's meant to win the argument is that your choices about your body aren't fundamentally your own but Society's, because other people can look at your body and have feelings about it, they may even want to emulate it. for an added bonus, this one doesn't just use viral disease logic, but also borrows heavily and directly from the really basic conservative idea that women are less people and more living mannequins that you can dress up and use to show off the ideals of your social group. you can't wear that, men might see you and think you're a hussy and then it'll be your fault when they harass other women, little girls might see you and copy you like mindless drones.

*obligatory asides that plenty of people can recreationally use substances without being addicted and they're also fine + I know that classifying addiction as a mental illness is a hotly debated topic, especially in antipsych contexts, but that's a whole different can of worms to the topic at hand.

[adhd-merlin]

merlin S1 rewatch: episode 3

I'm putting this above the cut because I am outraged:

THEY CUT SOME LINES ON BBC iPLAYER. THEY CUT THE LINE WHERE MORGANA SAYS MERLIN IS "A LOVER"!! THEY CUT MERLIN SAYING "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT". WHAT KIND OF VICTORIAN CENSORSHIP IS THIS!!!!!

seriously!! (I only noticed because I'm watching this with subs off this time, but I had a transcript to glance at on my phone because sadly I can't hear without my subtitles).

random thoughts/observation:

• Interesting choice to have Nimueh cast her curse via a Fabergé egg

• Nimueh doing her Galadriel shit in a very cool cave actually

• S1 Arthur had some snazzy little outfits. Love the Jedi vest.

• I don't like bad cop Arthur :(

• baby's first raid!!!

• okay but Gaius tells Uther the plague is caused by sorcery, and the king IMMEDIATELY sends Arthur to search Gaius's chambers? "we're searching every room in town" my ass. Uther only trusts Gaius as far as he can throw him, which explain a lot about the way Gaius keeps begging Merlin to keep a low profile.

• this is maybe one of the gayest episodes. if you don't think so you're looking at the wrong couple.

• Gwen picked flowers for Morgana. MORGANA WAS READY TO FIGHT A CAVE MONSTER FOR HER GIRLFRIEND MAID. Don't talk to me.

• Merlin and Gwen's friendship is so heartwarming and pure and I've missed it!! wish the writers had remembered they were good friends later in the series

• Can we talk about Merlin being such a lovely boy. a literal ray of sunshine. can we.

• Gaius (in ep 1): "Magic shouldn't be used for idiotic pranks!!". Merlin (in ep 3): "okay so can I use it to save a man's life?" Gaius: "NO"

• I can't tell whether or not Gaius knows about the prophecy (if the writers had even decided at this point). He keeps making allusions to destiny and great things to come, so it kind of sounds like he does?

• Merlin & Gaius having their first significant disagreement about the best approach to take to solve the problem at hand. They are Feelings vs Logic. I think fandom sometimes forgets young Merlin was fierce and opinionated as well as kind and sweet. Any boy less stubborn than him wouldn't have lasted long around Gaius. I think this is one of the ways in which they are similar — both headstrong and loath to back down when they believe they are right. Which they often do.

• Gwen only asking Merlin to remember her after she's executed 😭😭😭

• lol @ Merlin being laughed out of the room after his attempt at a heroic sacrifice. He really thought he was doing something.

• Arthur: "OBVIOUSLY he's not a sorcerer!! leave him alone. he's mentally ill and in love and stupid. did I mention stupid"

• the elemental solution was kind of stupid (the beast is made of clay > water + earth, so it can be defeated by fire + wind?). They literally didn't know it was going to work. MERLIN SWEETIE WHAT WAS YOUR PLAN B. WHAT WAS YOUR PLAN A, EVEN

• great Afanc monster clearly just a guy in a suit. that's just Steve from the make-up department.

• Merlin casting his spell without a care for who hears it. BABE YOU'LL GET CAUGHT

• I know the last exchange between Merlin and Morgana is meant to be a gag but it’s also sad how relieved and happy Merlin is at hearing Morgana say she knows his secret, and her asking if she can talk to him about it :(

All in all a cute little episode, not much to say about it

funny/notable quotes:

• UTHER (to Morgana): Have you ever seen an enchantress? Believe me, they bear no sign, no mark. There is no sense of evil in the eye. (👀)

• KILGHARRAH: You are but one side of a coin. Arthur is the other.

[kensho11]

My dreams

This is about my dreams and how they changed over time.

When I was young they told me I could be anything I wanted to be. So I choose to be an astronaut but not any ordinary astronaut. I wanted to be the first person on mars, Or at least one of the first. I wanted to improve the lives of everyone, I wanted to advance the human race to the next step. But by the time I reached high school that dream of me was destroyed, shot down by the same system that told me I could be anything I wanted. But luckily I had a backup plan and I went in the totally opposite direction. I saw that there was a crisis in the ocean. The coral reefs were dying, species were going extinct, and plastic plagued every depth of the ocean. I wanted to try to do something about it, I wanted to save the world from dying. So I moved to Florida and started studying marine science. That’s when I made a horrible realization, or maybe a good one. I realized that we are the problem. We put the plastic in the ocean, we are the ones that massacred all those species. And we are the ones trying to leave it all behind and pretend like we aren’t the ones responsible. How did we come to this point where we are destroying the very thing that gives us this amazing opportunity to live life. 

So now I thought to myself, “why?” Why did we humans do this? So my dream changed for the third time except this time I wasn’t shooting for the stars or diving to the bottom of the ocean, I decided to stay right where I am, to answer this question. And out of all my dreams that I tried to work towards, this dream is far harder to accomplish. As I explored this question it only got harder, more complicated, and eventually split off into more and more questions. 

All the suffering in this world seems to stem off of us humans. And I know that this is scary to think. That we humans have this amazing power that we possess to create change. And with great power comes great responsibility: Thanks spider man: But this is very true. It means that Humans are responsible for the change in this world. And we have to take action. We made a mistake by destroying the world, Not just physically, but also psychologically as well. Mental illness is on the rise, and most people have these deep struggles that are impossible to overcome by themselves. I know that each generation has their struggles and we are lucky to be living in an age where we don’t have to fight to survive every single moment of our lives. Even if that's what it feels like sometimes. But like I said we have the power to change. We live in a world with exponential growth of knowledge and technology. There is no excuse to not be using this knowledge and technology to help others relive their suffering. It is irresponsible and extremely disappointing with what we are doing with this power. Why are we using social media to spread more products that people don’t actually need, and trapping ourselves on our beds doom scrolling. Social media could have been amazing, connecting everyone all around the world. It's a shame. Look at AI. This is an amazing invention that could have improved soooo many lives. It could have solved problems that humans aren’t equipped to solve. But instead people are trying to use it to create art or videos, or customer service, all of which AI fails horribly as compared to humans who are devoted to their craft with love and determination. People are trying to get AI to do exactly what humans are made to do, exactly what humans are good at doing. So why do we keep ruining everything?

As you can see this question did evolve and it just keeps going but ultimately I came to a conclusion. We take everything for granted. We don’t understand just how precise things in life are like the ocean, or our solar system or our lives. Our lives are the most precise thing that could ever exist. Let me prove it to you. 

Did you know that most people who could ever exist will never be born. When you look at our total combinations of alleles on human chromosomes that makes 70,368,744,177,664 unique humans. Only the total number of humans ever born is around 117,000,000,000. That is only .17%. That means that 99.83% of humans don’t get to be born. And that’s considering eventually humans will evolve and have different varying alleles. But that’s not all, that is just the possibility of our genetic code. Think about all the things that had to line up perfectly for your genetic make up to even get the chance of creating you. From the big bang all the way to that sperm fertilizing the egg had to go exactly the way it did for you to be born. The chances of this happening are practically 0%. Not exactly really because you are here reading this book. You have defied the odds of impossibility. You see this makes everything you do the rarest and most precise thing you can do because the odds of that very thing happening are practically 0%. It's not supposed to be possible. Imagine finding an item in a video game that has a 0% chance of being found, or winning the lottery every single time you played. The odds are practically 0% which makes them so precise yet so many of us don’t treat our lives as the most precise thing we can have. We are given the most valuable thing we could ever ask for, the moment we are born and that is the opportunity to live life. The craziest part about this is, it's not just you, it's your mom, your dad, your brother sister, all your friends, all your teachers, pets, animals, every tree, and blade of grass gets this same opportunity. So don’t waste it and never take it for granted. And don’t take it away from anyone or anything else. It would be a shame to lose or give away the most precious thing in the universe which is this world we live in and everything that inhabits it. 

[lindajenni]

dec 2

will he live again

"if a man dies, shall he live again?" job 14:14

in the midst of his great difficulties, job found hope in his confident expectation that he would see God in the next life. in heaven, we will never see a hospital; there will be no more sickness. we will see no more funeral homes; there will be no more death. we will see no more counseling centers; there will be no more depression, heartache, or mental illness. we will see no more boxes of tissues sitting around for there will be no more tears. and whatever takes the joy out of life for you will be gone forever from those of us who can say, "i know my redeemer lives." job 19:25

those who have placed their hope in Christ as their Redeemer, will live with Him in heaven forever. for the believer, death is not about leaving home. it's about going home. home is not a place, but a person. "therefore, since all these things will be dissolved, what manner of persons ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness" 2 pet 3:11

we are all too ready to proclaim we are all sinners saved by grace, and that is most certainly true. but - that doesn't mean that we are to stay sinners forever and there be no visible difference from a believer and an unbeliever.

faith alone is the channel of God's saving grace, but the proof of faith is our good works. when the apostle paul spoke of works, he was generally speaking of the works of the law, like observing the sabbath. when the apostle james spoke of works, he was referring to the fruit of genuine faith. james's argument is for those who adhere to the cheap faith that says, "i am saved and under grace, so i can live any way i desire."

first and foremost, if one really loves God and is truly saved, the conviction of the Spirit alone would have them avoid wrong doing as they would the plague. otherwise, perhaps you have believed in vain. (see 1 cor 15:2) love cannot intentionally wound that love without feeling the pain as much.

it's possible to have no faith and no works. it's also possible to have works and no faith. but it's impossible to have true saving faith and no works. biblical christianity is not about faith or works either. salvation begins with faith alone, but genuine christianity is about a faith that works.

Christ did not die that we could continue to wallow in our fleshly desires, freed from the repercussions like others deserving also. His objection is to permeate our flesh with spirit; with Holy Spirit. "and do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." rom 12:2

in the old testament He says it this way, "and when I passed by you and saw you struggling in your own blood, I said to you in your blood, ‘live!’ yes, I said to you in your blood, ‘live!’ eze 16:6 He want to lift us up out of our filth and flesh to dwell in His holy presence so we may live.

show me. show the world. most of the world is waiting to see a faith that works; a faith in action. "therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new." 2 cor 5:17 i have a besetting sin that accompanies me everyday, but the battle has not waned or the repentance subsided. i trust my Lord to get me there!

the proof is not in what you say, but in what you do and how you do it. then, and only then, may we confidently proclaim, "my beloved is mine, and i am His." sos 2:16 then, and only then, will we be assured of where we will live again. (if one considers living without God any kind of life.)

we will be going home. again, home is not really a place, it is a person… our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. is it no wonder we call Him our "Blessed Hope?" and i believe that blessed hope is at the very door, waiting for us to cross the threshold. and yes, it is His grace that will carry us over that threshold. whether you believe in the soon coming rapture or not, we may all agree on this: "now our salvation is nearer than when we first believed." rom 13:11 maranatha!!!

[826aliensapocalypseactivism]

The Ill

Jurni A.-B. 

The streets. The streets were crawling with dead, rotting corpses. Some “people” were more dead than alive. I was afraid someone would touch me, but I walked faster, fearful that someone would chase me and try to chase me down and plague me with whatever contagion they had. Panic attracts anything and everything, especially the sick who see you running and want to join. Next thing you know you’re in a swarm of the Ill, hysterically running and swarming you. They follow wherever safety is, which is nowhere, but someone like me looks like a leader, like someone that should be followed. They probably see me as a god. How could you be so fit, so “unsick” in a world like this? How are you so put together, as in one whole smooth piece? How could you not be so…plagued?

I should be home in about ten minutes. I hate that the Seller’s Lot is on my way home. Some of the Ill are usually wasting their near-the-end life looking for medicines and remedies that won’t work but at least they're tryin’, I guess. But the only thing is, they're in such close proximity to me, they want to plague me because I’m one of the Lusties. I don’t see why you’d try to plague other people, though. If anything they should be attacking the ignoramus who started this freakin’ epidemic. Because of him, nowhere is safe. Especially at night, when you can’t see an attacker. My dad lets me carry a gun. He trusts me. By the time I was seven, I learned to properly hold a gun. By the time I was 10, I’d learned to shoot and hit almost every target. Today…I shot someone for the first time.

I wasn’t scared. Shaken up by the smell of blood, but I was proud. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t care, it just meant that I had mentally prepared myself. I’m not saying I felt nothing because that would be a lie. They’re still people, just not a Lusty or physically or mentally capable. They were mentally capable, but most were flooded with pain and some were in such excruciating pain and agony they had a heart attack and died. That’s probably best for them. But the pain consumes them so much that 99% of the time they're not cognitive, they screech like animals being tortured. That's what it really is.

I made it, I made it home. I always pray. In the shower, before I leave, on the street, while I’m walking…anywhere Ill can be, that’s where and when I’m praying. So basically from the moment I wake up, until the moment, I lock up and head to bed. Speaking from years of experience, I can tell you that it certainly works. My dad taught me how to properly pray. He taught me, “the more fear you conjure, the more danger you radiate.” I believe him. I won’t say that I don’t fear for my life most days, but it’s just not as much as any other Lusty. I’ve been told I’m a sociopath because I talk about how quickly I’ll shoot someone trying to plague me. That’s quite the opposite of what I am. It’s called “self-love”. And if you don’t have an ounce of it in this world you…won’t make it.

“Is anybody home?” Goddarn… it was so frustrating coming home to an empty house, she thought. 

“Yeah, I’m here, ” I’d always felt relieved to hear his voice when I came home. “Hey, Ellery! Come to the back I need you!”.

My dad’s been trying to fix his old truck for years now, he won’t quit. Though if he did, I’d think he’d given up on us leaving. We plan to flee to the suburbs or St. John, Indiana. It’s a good 45 minutes from Chicago. It’s quite a secluded area, so we’ll be fine, I think. Dad says we’ll fence the place, get security cameras with an intercom, a thermometer, and disinfectant spray. He plans on getting everything delivered, so we’ll have less contact with the Ill or potentially Ill. He says he’ll buy multiple acres so I’ll never get bored. I’ll have animals, a garden, a greenhouse, a pool, a small playground, at 14, yes I still swing, a fire pit, and my own shack just in case I get tired of him. 

Dad’s been saving for about 40 years since he was about a teen. He knew he wanted to be a father ever since he was old enough to know what a father was. He knew if he was gonna protect me, he’d have to empty his pockets. He’d say “You’re worth every penny and more. I’d rather be poor and safe with you than rich and daughterless”. Dad was affectionate like that.

I recall mom saying “You’re not just my lover, you’re my friend,” or “I’m in awe when I look at you”. They were in deep love. Not just with each other but with me too. My mom was… she was the greatest. My favorite memory of her was when she would give me weekly lessons on how to style my hair, she’d say “I ain’t brushing them tangles girlfriend!” I’d laugh, and she would put in my curl cream and show me how to detangle my shoulder-length curls. We’d do twists, cornrows, braids, just any natural or protective style that screamed “BLACK GIRL MAGIC!” We’d shout and point at the mirror. When she died, I vowed to neverever cut my hair. That’s what was special to us. Each other.

Mom disappeared when I was 11. She got up one day, went to look at a property in St. John, and she was taken by scientists from the LHHS, The Laboratory for Human Health Studies. She was set up by the real estate agent. He was paid by the LHHS to find a test subject for a vaccine. My mom. No one else’s…mine! I loved her. She was my rock. Now, I don’t know if she’s dead or alive. Most nights I don’t sleep. I think instead. I don’t want to mourn just yet. I’m gonna find her. Dead or alive. I swear!

______________________________________________________________

I made it to LHHS. I’m surprised it isn’t as secure as I thought it would be. I brought my gun, just in case. If option one; going in peacefully and asking what happened to my mom with documents with her name, doesn’t work, then I’ll resort to option two; pulling out my gun, and demanding the information I need.

“Hi, how are you?” I asked.

“Fine and you, ma’am?” the receptionist said.

“I need some to know…what happened to my mother?

“Excuse me?

“She was kidnapped by one of your scientists, ma’am. Two years ago?”

“Ma’am, the LHHS doesn’t kidnap people, we simply study the human health and research how to stop this…epidemic.” 

“Well your people certainly kidnapped my mother and I haven’t seen her in two years. I don’t know if your mother has ever gone missing but I’ll have you know it feels like an eternity.” 

“Ma’am…I…that’s not what we do. Have you tried contacting the police?

“Yes, yes. Plenty of times!”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Forget it, thanks I guess…”

I have no words. I’m… I can’t think. I need some air. I need to talk to dad about this, I hope he is not mad. We never talked about looking for her or confirming her death. I hate to be negative, but I think she’s dead. The search is over…I’m done looking. If she’s alive she knows where we’ll be.

[anoms-world]

cure plastic friday city pan

1x 20 the break 3tt lossof control 10 defence 2tt 3x 1tt 2x 30

when they luagh on the game? usually when i seperate myself from everything its like as if they want my attecen to be creative to be out as they become mad at me later for the things that already in my mind espicially the things that dosnt change with creativity unless if i can change them completly without the sights or with something else only on the play what happened when i resist while being optimistic? she came to stop me and fill me when eternal fear to freaze and panick but why?… what happened when i resist while being pesmmetic? she left but i became so numb i dont enjoy things and so unlucky in what ever i do things broke around me all the time so messed up when she angry directed at me? when i sererating myself suddenly from everything yet not emotionalyy with mental confinian. things doesnt really really heal at this point when its up to her… when i fear? when am completly alone without defence or words or emotion or single thought tho i know that what they want usually and what also i want to be no matter what i do or try to manifist am still small and easy to break like im used to be whan i was small to even hold the grib of manifistng wighout to mentioning the background running without me secretivly even if i tried to resisst

stteampunk plague doctor mask googles rakuen paradise subgenres mecha anime cyberpunk city synthwave lo-fi thrash metal thrash metal hardcore punk mix symphonic power neoclassical metal fav game ys i & 2 fv anime cowboy bebop

ill just go with flow to break the nothingness that i feel these days i just forget myself. my balance. short temper balance with blank screen mind yea you can imagine the spirit becoming older missing the treats and the sense of being even if it was unstable

viva california

elenore im just thinkingg about the nice ppl i gosted in the past and i feel insane cause there was nothing else to do my mind screen go off and blank to be any more creative about

spirit nedds seem more important to me these days but how when the spirit is a kid and they still use the easy way with force and control

i cant feel anything at all my last spirit chance is damaged to feel any save or to be comfortable so the past nostelgia coming back to refeed forcebly i have been low for too long and the outer world insist to break my chances so i can not give anymore even to just myself, the more things change the more it stay the same. even if you were in the same place or the same trap or on the edge no one care to change

the attacked me today not much blood sure as hell i wasnt afraid i said the stupid things they ususually say i didnt anything wrong and im confidant who they think are oh beside they rised their game saying dirty stuff dishonered my actions saing im doing that on poruse and im egolistical thinking myself always right lmao so childlsh they stab me the shell and they accepted me to not make a sound or ever wine every while…. its like they saing ppl in the shell arent allowed to scream when someone attack them espiacially when its peacock with authity and power attack from lion and acrow who love to collect all kind of jewery, they full of ego self love stupprenes force and threats to be throwed in the street lol ignoring everything else about your truth thro bettering them self as if they were the angel and im the devil in their fantasyies to be looking good in the harm and the attacks they do an attmp to get you out from comfort zone,,,yea not much blood tho my soul hurt and my personal confinians for the personal attacks and black treasure for lies mixed with past event to show only the worse then they added justifing them self saing we don hate you lmao what new using my words and exposing their ugly mindset to me, this kind of love that ill be happy to leave with what ever left of pride and wasted honor i tell them over and over again i cant keep up with you they just just ignore or play dumb then she said dont surprised to be attacked you earned your place.. lmao as if i can do anything else to be more creative and sly in my words or place ,,why they never leave you alone even when im already alone im defently not afraid of death at least its honest it taking you part by part this year was tasefull of death tho its slow and keep me comany in many forms ulike the living ones who love their lives travling everywhere more than death it self,, cant deny im afraid sometimes yet how can you afraid of what keep you company,, i told her you dont want me to choose my friends then why you dont talk to me when i need to talk insteesd of consider it a personal attack like you do usually nah she cant and cant resist the need for express freely without judgment to anyone or sink it in the sea of colors with the others before..

[neonnoir-ao3]

Some Words of Comfort.

Recently, I’ve seen a lot of people (especially those who have read spoilers/are actively searching for leaked content) lament about their future reactions to the deaths of our beloved characters in-game.

We all knew this was inevitable, and that them living was not an option for the plot of the game, but the time has finally come to face it head-on.

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I understand that someone outside this community might be like “it’s just a game”, but I know it’s way more than that to many: the concept of a female villain that, to many, can be seen as sympathizable and even endearing, is a bit of a new concept— especially on such a large scale as this instance.

In addition, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters have become a bit of a comfort item for some (with an emphasis on sapphics/wlw, from what I’ve seen personally) in the form of a large, protective, and caring hypothetical partner, or even just a maternal character one can appreciate simply because of her love for her children. Regardless, most of us are here due to some desire for comfort.

Take my own story with this community, for example:

(tws for death, covid, suicide, and general medical emergencies)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frankly, 2020 and the beginning of 2021 have ruined me. I lost two men who were the only two positive father figures I’ve ever had. The last of the two tested positive for covid and deteriorated within days, to the point where less than a week after testing positive, my family was making the choice to pull the plug. This all occurred days before Christmas and my birthday. On the first day of the spring semester, having not had the time to properly mourn my grandfather, my mother is in the ER for multiple days with an internal infection that doctors said likely would have turned septic if she had waited to come in any longer. This led to three surgeries throughout the next few months. (Oh, and one of my relatives quite literally dropped dead on that first day of class, too). I am also estranged from one of my parents, and they have been trying to contact my family: they have multiple untreated mental illnesses (severe NPD, bipolar, and more) and they are extremely aggressive in that state of mind and they are agitated extremely easily. That only brings more stress, along with resurfacing trauma and related emotions. Every moment of every day has been a struggle. So much so that I failed half of my classes voluntarily simply because I couldn't do them anymore.

To be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t expect to be here right now. I expected that the pain of simply moving forward would have finally overridden my fears of death and that I would have already ended my suffering by now.

Then, in late January, I saw something trending on Twitter. About a new female villain in an upcoming horror game. And it went from there.

As cheesy as it sounds, this fandom and its content seriously saved my life. In the darkest of days, I’ve come to this tag for comfort. The oddest way I found said comfort was through those who were attracted to Alcina aesthetically. I have extremely long-term trauma related to being bullied and being the victim of a hybrid catfishing/'Oreo Game' on early social media by peers in middle school to the point where I do not think of myself as being able to be loved, let alone being worthy of it. Finding this community not only provided a great form of escapism (and opened a door into a fantasy world where I could imagine my own person vampire milf gf), but also gained a little bit of self-esteem (as many of you know, I share a lot of visual qualities with Alcina. -yes, I'm still kinda freaked out about it-) via seeing people where features/attributes like mine were actively praised and desired rather than insulted and pushed away like they have been until now.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

(okay sorry that kinda turned into a trauma dump but I needed to emphasize the fact that this community has seriously helped me during a really dark point in my life, and I know I can't be the only one with that sort of experience)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

What I’m trying to get across here is that, like many others, this community and its content have been comforting and therapeutic, and it really is more than just a game to us. It’s entertaining and even a form of escapism in these extremely trying times. We all have some degree of PTSD from surviving a literal mass plague— and this is something we're using as a method of coping. a distraction. a coping mechanism.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With that being said, here are some ways to hopefully assist in lessening the emotional stress:

(please note that I am not a mental health professional and these may not be healthy coping mechanisms for everyone.)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Understand that it’s just a game.

I know, this sounds completely counterintuitive, but it’s more or less about keeping your level of immersion down. Personally, I can’t do scary shit in general: I have to listen to music on low volume while watching dark ARG vids at night or when I’m alone because I get too into it, and then my paranoia kicks in. Sometimes just pausing for a moment and grounding yourself/reminding yourself that this is a video game: a jumble of code and 3D rendering that doesn’t have to affect your views/headcanons if you don’t want it to. Did your favorite character just get slaughtered? Nope, that 3D rendering of them just got un-alived, that’s all.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Ignorance is Bliss/We are the Captain Now

Simple: Capcom can’t even pronounce Dimitrescu right, or even acknowledge the way it’s correctly said in Romanian culture itself. How can you trust them to give you a perfect canon? That’s the thing: with that logic, you can’t. What they say is true means little (if anything, for that matter) to your headcanons and preexisting ideas of the Dimitrescus. In short: fuck ‘em.

I’m currently seeking a double major in pop culture, and one of the cool things I’ve learned so far is affirmational vs transformational fandom. Affirmational is where official canon is seen as the law of the land, and followed to a T. Transformational is seen as much more inviting for audiences, allowing them to bend canon as they wish to fit their own creations. This fandom is obviously transformational, so take that game canon, rip it up, and get back to whatever you were doing.

Capcom’s canon is not the end-all, be-all. Far from it, actually.

Want to still acknowledge canon? Godmod your way out of it.

Character A died? It’d be a shame if they emerged from the rubble they 'died in' a few hours later, very beaten but alive nonetheless... how awful would it be if they sulked away, nursed their wounds, and continued to live... (/s)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Ignore it completely.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there w be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the in any way. Stay with the version in your head that makes you happy.

Get Creative!

If you're into creating fanart, writing fics, or even just posting a list of headcanons, take some advice from the late Carrie Fisher: "Take your broken heart, and make it into art". Make the fluff oneshot of your dreams! Draw the fanart you've been wanting to! dump lighthearted headcanons into the tags! Not only will it cheer you up, but sharing it with the community will spread the love!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I know a lot of people are struggling with this emotionally (especially with the pandemic making entertainment like this even more important sources of escapism and coping mechanisms) and I hope that, at the very least, I was able to help comfort one person who reads this.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there will be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the flowers that bloom after major wildfires: after a period of loss, some beautiful can still come of it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

💙

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader

So, back in the day I wrote this story on Quotev. And it was one of my first stories that got into the popular section and I am really proud of it. The only problem is.... It was written in 2013, uber cringe-ville. If you wanna try to find it, be my guest but be warned: the main character is an OC, she has “I’m NoT lIkE oThEr GiRlS” syndrome and there are some weird ass love lines added in. So, I am reviving and rebranding that story so it may live a better life, like witness protection. Anyway, hope you enjoy

* I wrote it in first person just because I thought it would be easier to read

(Y/N)’s family is killed in a fire that seems to plague Beacon Hills, moving in with the Stilinski’s was bound to cause hijinks, but what happens when she gets involved with the the illusive Derek Hale?

TW: Kidnapping, some violence

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

At first glance Beacon Hills seems like the perfect community. It wasn’t until later that I would realize that everything I ever knew was a lie. 

~

I slowly slipped out of the front door and locked it behind me. Sneaking out wasn’t my usual schtick, but it was the last day of summer and for the first time I was going to live a little before starting to work at the Highschool as a volunteer coach for the lacrosse team. It was my first time ever sneaking out and just the idea of it made my heart pound, but the anxiety turned to adrenaline as I made my way out without either of my parents noticing. They were both incredibly heavy sleepers, there could be a parade outside their door and they wouldn’t wake up. 

The party would mostly consist of most of the men’s and women’s lacrosse teams, and what would a lacrosse party be like without the team captain?

Walking down the sidewalk, I thought more about college. UCLA was a choice, or a community college too. Most kids would have gone straight after graduation, but I decided a year off would be good for me to de-stress. But honestly, I was just more afraid of the change. That and leaving my best friend, Stiles, behind was a little hard to fathom. We had known each other our whole lives. Another thing was…would he be okay? After losing his mom… who knows. But then there was also Michael. Michael was my boyfriend, and I loved being with him for the last four years. He really hadn’t mentioned plans for college, just working in the family business. What the family business was, I never knew. 

About a block down the road is when I heard the howl. My instincts first go to fear, wolf in the darkness. But then logic comes in, there had not been wolves in California for decades. It was probably the neighbors husky. 

The autumn chill had no mercy, whipping my hair into my eyes, I stopped on the corner of Fifth and Main, pulling my jacket closer and waited for the wind to pass. When it did, the figure in front of me made me gasp. But the shock subsided soon after. 

“Mikey,” I sighed in relief, “Why’d ya sneak up on me like that? Almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you.” He smiled. Ominous certainly, but this was probably just another one of his pranks. 

“I guess so, I thought you said you weren’t going to the party.” 

“We’re not.” That’s when a chill ran up my spine. Something wasn’t right, he wasn’t acting like himself. His goofy smile was gone and replaced by a dark looming presence that I wasn’t comfortable with. It was like he was a completely different person. I took a slow step back. 

“Come on, this isn’t funny.” He said nothing, only matching my step going forward. 

“Michael.” With every step I took back, he took one forward, matching my increasing pace. With no other choice in mind, I chose to run. But as my back was turned, he grabbed me by my middle with one arm and pressed a cloth to my mouth with the other. Without thinking, I breathed in, the chemicals in the cloth slowly numbing my senses and my body. I tried to fight the darkness entering my vision, but it was no use. I was done to my knees, Michael right behind me. 

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” Were the last words I heard before the darkness took over. 

~

“Sweetie, time to get up.” My mother’s voice rang in my ears. 

“C’mon mom five more minutes…” I grumbled. 

“(Y/N), you need to wake up.” Her voice is more urgent. I finally opened my eyes, seeing my mother, her body engulfed in flames. 

“Wake up!” 

My body jerked as I woke up, leading to soreness in my arms and legs as a few things became clear: 

1. I was tied to a chair, and 

2. I didn’t know where I was. 

The events from last night slowly started coming back and nothing made any sense. Michael had never been controlling or abusive. Was I so blinded by the relationship that I hadn’t seen the signs? No, there were no signs. As far as I knew, Michael had no history of mental illness so something like dissociative identity disorder didn’t make sense and it wouldn’t explain the behavior either. 

There was a bandana tied around my head, keeping me from any sort of speech. From the layout of the place, it looked like an apartment Michael had, but everything was different. There was a tack board hanging in the living room with so many pictures of myself and my parents, shots that looked like they were taken without us knowing. There were scrawlings but they were too scribble-like to make out. 

The door opening brought my head to look towards the source. Michael walked in, shoving his phone into his back pocket. 

“Well good afternoon, sleepy head.” He closed the door behind him and made his way over to the chair I was bound to. 

“Alright, I’m gonna take the gag out but you can’t scream.” He smiled. 

I nodded along. With one hand, he pulled the gag from my mouth. 

“HELP! HELP ME!” I cried, hoping one of his neighbors would hear and call the police. 

“Shut up!” He slapped me across the face, the stinging pain only added to my screaming for help. 

“I said shut up!” He pulled a knife from his pocket, pressing the tip of the blade against my cheek. This new threat silences me, leaving me breathing heavily through my nose, tears making their way down my cheeks. 

“See, was that so hard?” He stood up and made his way across the room to the box TV on his floor, “I’m sorry for the mess, but with all my planning I hadn’t had a chance. I’ve been planning a big surprise and it’s finally done.” I didn’t speak, only continued to watch his movements. 

“I figure, even if you didn’t listen, you can still have your surprise.” He pressed the round power button on the screen and it fizzled to life. 

“-the same arsonist on the loose? Coming back to breaking news, the second house fire in six years occurred in the early morning today. Firefighters were called out to the residence of (Y/D/N) and (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) where their home had gone up in flames.” There was footage of my home up in flames, streams of water coming from the firemen below. “ Both (Y/D/N) and (Y/M/N) were found dead, seemingly from being crushed by a falling support beam in their basement. Their daughter, (Y/N), has not been found and is considered missing. If you have any information on her please call Beacon Hills police.” My photo came up on the screen. 

My heart sunk into my stomach and my throat ached to scream and sob. Michael turned off the TV then and looked down at me. 

“I’m surprised they found the bodies with how hot it was.” He said nonchalantly.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered. My parents were the nicest people in the world and treated Michael like he was a part of the family, why would he do this?  

”Don’t worry, (Y/N/N). It’s all a part of the plan.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“I’m gonna head to bed, been out all night. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” He made his way to her bedroom and closed the door behind him. 

Finally, I completely broke down. Silent cries poured out. My parents were just gone in a puff of smoke. And all at the hands of someone we trusted. Someone that I trusted more than anything. 

After the grief quickly came anger. I don’t know how or when, but I am getting the hell out of here.

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Read part 2 here!

Likes, Comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Message me comment to to added to the General Tag or the tag list for this series!

[voidandradiance]

hello! from the fic writer thingy; 1, 8, 9, 17, 25, 36, 37, 41 and 42 !!!

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

oh boy uh. for dsmp, by far, can i sleep in your house tonight or like i've never been are my strongest works. best foot forward, and all that.

for mianite, though... i love the karma series but it's a Lot, so maybe vintage misery or stars burn out. peak identity theft for both of them, tbh, but they're Good.

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

i've done most of the Splash Potion of Brainrot ones, but left on the list are:

the plagues from prince of egypt, 100 bad days by ajr, home to me by devil and the deep blue sea, thus always to tyrants by the oh hellos, dirty by grandson :)

9. How do you find new fic to read?

i subscribe to vav on ao3. and also scroll the wilbur soot character tag with dozens of excluded tags. and also read my friends' stuff.

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

my batshit insane tubbo- and andor-centric vigilianitee au, my fucking beloved. put those boys in situations. someone becomes a magical girl and i'm not telling you who.

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write?

i have the mental illness transcription doc, which is roughly 80 pages of transcribed mianite dialogue written out in script format, and i reference that pretty often. i've also got a folder of about 725 screenshots of mianite references, so. yknow.

36. Do you visualize what you read/write?

....sometimes? i guess? i'm really fuckin bad at it when i do, but i end up sketching out reference maps or using screenshots bc my spacial awareness is a little bit Really Bad

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

all of my mianite fics.

nahhh as far as dsmp fics go, i have to say just give me a happy middle is one that i loved and most people didn't. it was just posted at a weird time, i think? idk. food as a metaphor for love.

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

THIS ONE. THIS ONE RIGHT HERE. it was the first one of vav's ao3 fics that i read, and i lost my fucking mind. the imagery. the detail. the pacing. the quilt. OUGH i wish i could fuckin Do That with words. i dont care if yall warch mianite or not i am telling you to read the fic

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

the tipping point for me becoming a wilbur main was zanna zannolin's comment on save the world. so. yes. anyone who leaves long detailed comments analyzing symbolism or easter eggs or characterization, i would already die for you, but that comment specifically is one of the things that got me to start writing wilbur-centric stuff as a whole. thanks king.

[bristokeswrites]

Intro

Well hello there, traveller. Thanks for checking out my page! It truly means the world to me that you took the time to stop by.

I joined Writeblr in the hopes of accomplishing a few things: getting my writing out into the world, connecting with like-minded people, and--most importantly--being as open and honest as I possibly can be about my struggles with anxiety, depression, and just my general musings about this big blue globe we're all twirling around on endlessly. I think it's extremely important for creatives--especially those of us who have been “othered” by society--to make the effort to tell our stories, and to do so as authentically as possible. 

Hopefully I can find others out there who can relate to some of what I've been through and will ride this wave with me.

If that sounds like you, then stick around, check out the #poetry, #prose, and #journal tags, and hopefully you'll find something that speaks to you. And if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out! I love connecting with other writers in the community, and as a reclusive, Bruce-Wayne-at-the-beginning-of-'Dark-Knight-Rises'-kinda-girl, I could always do with some new friends! 🤣

🌸INFO:

Bri (I'll say it just in case you were thinking it: yes, like the cheese, lol) // 26 // Los Angeles // Queer // She/Her // Black, Hopi, and Filipino // Neopagan // INFP // Aquarius sun, Scorpio moon, Cancer rising 

🌸WHAT I WRITE:

Fantasy // Romance // Horror // Poetry // Speculative fiction // Weird fiction // Occasional, Uber-Pretenious Essays

🌸CURRENT WIPs:

🌹The Rose of Lazarus: A modernized, feminist retelling of the Hades and Persephone myth. Willow Blythe--a biracial, 21 year-old witch--comes from a long line of warlocks, sorceresses and magickal folks. She has the ability to heal others and divine the future by way of a rare psychic gift known as "the Gleam," but living a life as the so-called "Chosen One" has left her sheltered, jaded, broken and fearful.

Her talent is regularly abused, hidden away, or sought out by others to be exploited--chiefly by a demon king named Keltozio Al'gaan, ruler of the Western territories of the Underworld. He watches her from a distance from the time of her youth, believing that she is the only one who can save him from the intense delusions which plague his unravelling mind, threatening his power. But in the process of stalking her, he believes he's fallen in love, and abducts her, promising to spare her from a life as his prisoner if she agrees to be his bride.

Seeing no other option, Willow accepts, and reluctantly becomes empress. But in the midst of her time in the Underworld, she takes pity on the humans who are trapped there, and begins quietly planning a coup. In order to do so, she learns to harness the gift that once brought her so much grief, and sets out on a mission to overthrow her tyrannical husband, free his prisoners, and take over his throne.

🎗️Themes: loss, sexual awakening, feminine power, adulthood, class, race, addictions, loneliness, mental illness.

🌹Swing Set Scumbag (and other Liminal Stories): A little book of poems I’ve been writing over the course of the pandemic. Like so many of us, I’ve really been trying to find myself during this experience, to get to the root of who I am amidst so much isolation... or maybe I’m trying to return to myself? Who can really say? Everything gets a little blurry around the edges, lol.

Regardless, these poems are all about what I’ve found in the process, and how I’ve tried to (and am trying to) reconcile with all the ways in which my anxiety has led me down some very limiting/wild/weird roads.

🎗️Themes: race, gender, womanhood, society, sexuality, anxiety, depression, self-discovery, self-doubt.

🌸DOPE LINKS YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY CHECK OUT:

 - Twitter

- I should also have an IG up and running in a bit, so stay tuned!

🌸WRITEBLR GAMES?

Uh, yes? Hell yes. As I mentioned earlier, I LOVE interacting with fellow creatives and other folks within this community. Tag me in ALL the things. ALL. OF. THEM. And if you feel the itch, please don’t hesitate to send me a message or an ask!

Thanks again for taking a look. Hope you like the place :)

~ Bri 🌻

[justfangirlthingies]

Talking to the Moon (Billy Hargrove)

Another songfic. This one is based on "Talking to the Moon" by Bruno Mars

Word count: 2049 words

Warnings: a swear word I think?, mentions of death, description of death, this is basically fueled by angst, sad, mental illness I guess (I think that's it), allusions to sex

I may or may not have made myself cry while writing this

"I know you're somewhere out there" you whispered as you were seated in your driveway, leaning against a car, long abandoned. His car.

Denial. That's what one could call your situation. Struck with grief and pain, yet still not recognizing it.

"Somewhere far away, but that's okay I'll find you or maybe you'll find me." A sad smile traced your lips as your eyes began to water. You gazed at the starry night sky, the moon, shining as bright as ever, illuminating your frame.

You couldn't accept it. And why would you? Just to have your world shutter to pieces before your feet? No thanks!

"I want you back,"

It never happened. Not as long as you refused to believe it. It just had to be some cruel joke. IT HAD TO BE!

Slowly flashes of memories invaded your thoughts and unfolded before your eyes. The way he sacrificed himself in order to save all of you. The way he was impaled from all directions by the beast and how his blood soaked the white tank top he had been wearing that evening. The way his limp body dropped to the floor. How he just laid there unconscious in a puddle of of his own blood. How they had to drag you and Max away from his body, but you wouldn't budge. "No Billy! BILLY! Come on! D-don't do this to me! You can't just leave me here like that!" In that moment you either wanted him to wake up or to just lie down and leave this place with him, but you couldn't do that to your family and friends. And to think that fateful day was your anniversary as well. You quickly pushed your thoughts and trauma to the back of your mind.

"I want you back Billy, please just come back home." Slowly the silent tears started escaping your eyes.

A hand pat your shoulder causing your features to flash with hope. Yet, it wasn't him. "Come on you gotta go back inside" It was just your little brother. The hopeful glimmer in your eyes vanished as you slowly got up. "I know... I know" You muttered and when you had made it to the front door you glanced at the old car again, wiping at your face to dry the tears.

"(Y/n) do you wanna watch a movie or maybe meet up with the gang? They miss you." Your face contorted to one of agony and you flinched at the mention of the kids and some of your friends. However, you quickly tried to mask it up and flashed your brother a smile "Sorry Dustin, those are your friends I'm just your babysitter. Have fun though." You ruffled his hair and just like that you left your little brother standing in the hallway as you made a beeline for your bedroom.

▪︎

▪︎

▪︎

My neighbors think I'm crazy. But they don't understand

Whenever you left the house you got weird or pitiful looks thrown in your direction. It was no wonder you stopped leaving the house. And quite honestly, you were beginning to feel better. You felt better, not because you finally accepted the decision fate had made, but rather because you started to drift off. Reminiscing about the good times and creating your own little world in your head where everything was just fine. Or maybe you were just feeling numb by now...

"You're all I had, you're all I had and you're all I'd ever need" you mumbled to yourself and to the night sky.

At night, when the stars light up my room. I sit by myself. Talking to the moon

You often sat on your windowsill as you told him all that happened on each day. Sometimes you'd rant about your job. Other times you'd ask him questions and beg him to come back to you.

Trying to get to you. In hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too

Could he even hear you? See you? Know you were trying to contact him somehow? If the upside down was real, then so was the chance he might be out there somewhere, right? It was a desparate last glimmer of hope you had left.

"Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon? Maybe I am..." Oh

▪︎

▪︎

▪︎

I'm feeling like I'm famous, the talk of the town.

Of course you noticed the people watching you and talking about you behind your back. They say I've gone mad. Apparently they had nothing better to do than talk about you.

Yeah, I've gone mad. But they don't know what I know

One night when you were rambling into the night you heard his voice.

'Cause when the sun goes down, someone's talking back.

It was faint at first, but it got louder and steadier and sounded more like him.

Yeah, they're talking back, oh. At night, when the stars light up my room

And that was when hope returned to you. You left your room less and less, your family and friends growing more worried with each passing day. They barely got to see you.

I sit by myself. Talking to the moon

You didn't even notice how you neglected your needs.

Trying to get to you

You were too busy talking to him. Too busy to eat or sleep. To anxious that he'd be gone again if you left for too long.

In hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too

Your family was at their wits end. They didn't know how they could help you. But you didn't think you needed help. You had Billy and that was all that mattered to you.

Or am I a fool, who sits alone, talking to the moon?

Slowly your brain had repressed the trauma, leaving it on the threshold between consciousness and unconsciousness. The images of the distressing and traumatizing memories only appearing in your sleep. In your nightmare plagued sleep.

Do you ever hear me calling? (Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah) Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh. 'Cause every night, I'm talking to the moon

They were just nightmares, nothing more. After all he was here. What did you need sleep for when you could be awake and talk to Billy

Still trying to get to you

You had gotten lost in your own fantasy. A different reality where your boyfriend was still alive. Where he was still his usual cocky, jealous overprotective, but loving self, the one you fell in love with.

In hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too

Today was your anniversary. You dressed up nicely and left your room for the first time in forever. Describing your family as shocked when you left your room, went to grab a shopping basket and put on your shoes was an understatement. You flashed a bright smile at them when you saw them. "(Y/n)? What's got you in such a good mood? Are you going out?" Your mother was a little worried about your sudden change in demeanor, but quickly pushed those doubts aside. She was delighted at how happy you seemed. She didn't want to see in what bad shape you were, didn't want to notice how weird that smile looked on your exhausted posture or how that smile didn't actually reach your glassed over, dull (e/c) eyes. Eyes that shone bright with love, hope and life once. She didn't want to realize that you were just a shell of yourself.

What she did notice though, was the effort you put into looking nice today and that you actually wanted to leave your room and even the house.

"Yes mum, of course I'm in a good mood!" you exclaimed, you almost seemed like you were in some kind of trance. "It's our anniversary today. I'll go buy a few things to surprise Billy with his favourite dish for when he comes over later" and just like that you were out the door. Leaving your mother with confusion and worry written all over her face. Dustin had noticed the whole ordeal, however he did not choose to blatantly ignore your change in behaviour. "I have an idea, I know someone who might be able to help." Just like that your brother had left through the front door, sprinting to his friend's home.

▪︎

▪︎

▪︎

Or am I a fool, who sits alone,

You had spent your afternoon cooking and baking for your boyfriend. You prepared everything, now all you had to do was wait for him.

talking to the moon? Oh

A grin made itself prominent on your face as you thought about your favourite anniversary, the one three years ago. The weather was nice and Billy took you to the fun fair that just happened to be in town. He kept you close to him and would've punched anyone who laid their eyes on you for too long if you hadn't stopped him. "Don't worry, I'm only yours Hargrove" you beamed at him with delight in your eyes as you pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. After that he won you a stuffed animal and you got some cotton candy together.

"I love you, you know that right? I'll stay by your side forever you'll see. And I'll never leave you, like my asshole of a father left my mum, I promise. The two of us, we'll stay together for eternity" The blonde told you that evening when you were in bed, snuggled up cozily together after he had shown you just how much he loved you in every possible way. You moved your head which was resting on his naked chest slightly so you could properly look at him. His eyes held so much love, passion, adoration and tenderness for you in them and you knew yours did too "Forever huh?" you grinned as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. You could feel his fingers trace patterns on your back and arms as his strong arms pulled you impossibly closer to his body, the scent of his cologne engulfing you. "You better keep that promise then because I love you too." A cocky smirk appeared on his face and there was a short pause, a comfortable silence, as you pondered "Billy?" The boy hummed in response, his fingers still caressing your soft skin. "Can you promise to show me the beaches in Cali someday as well?" You felt your boyfriends chest vibrating as he chuckled softly "I think that I can manage (Y/n)" That's how you drifted off to sleep that night.

"(Y/n)..." a soft voice cautiously brought you back to your reality. "It's been three years." Your eyes were wide as you found yourself face to face with Maxine Mayfield, Billy's half-sister. He always acted like he hated it when someone called them siblings, when in reality he didn't mind at all. He loved his sister, he just had a special way of showing it. "What are you doing here? And what are you even talking about?" A smile was on your face. "As much as I love our silly little talks Max, I must advice you leave. Billy will come home any minute now and you know how he can get when he has plans and you appear out of nowhere." a giggle left your throat. As you spoke your eyes started swimming with tears. Why? You didn't know.

"(Y/n) listen to me. Billy died three years ago today, he's not gonna come to your anniversary. You just made up that he's still here with you because you couldn't handle his death. Not with how brutal it was." Tears were now pouring from your eyes as you shook your head. Realization dawning on you. "No...that-that's not true" you said, your voice cracking halfway. "Three-three years ago he took me to the funfair and-" you stopped mid sentence as the images from your nightmares unraveled before you. Max pulled you into her embrace and you hugged her back immediately, your whole body racking with sobs. The redhead also shed a few tears, not only because of her dead brother but also because of the state you were in. "I know, I know..." she soothed you

I know you're somewhere out there.

Somewhere far away...

[98prilla]

Deathworlder Down

Set in @delimeful 's wonderful WIBAR AU. Virgil gets sick, and the others struggle to help him, not only with his illness, but the clear underlying emotional issues.

Next

AO3

...

It was quiet, on the Mindscape.

 Logan was reading, absently twirling his fingers and hands as he studied, recording information, though he was certain most of it would prove false, as it was the little that was reported about humans. Most were comparable to ghost stories or urban legends, but there were a few that seemed more credible, that he hoped would give some more insight into humans in general.

 Roman was off working out somewhere, sparring, he insisted it was just to keep sharp, but they all knew it was because he didn’t trust the human on board not to go feral and kill them any second, despite Virgil’s rather shy and withdrawn personality. Still, at least he was getting his aggression out elsewhere, and not by actually fighting or snarking at the true object of his emotions. He was doing better, still, Logan would give him that, but there was a long way to go.

 He could hear Patton pitter pattering about in the kitchen, chirping and warbling to himself, making his lips twitch up into a smile. It had been far too quiet, without the little Ampen aboard, too much silence to drown in. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d grown accustomed to, hearing Patton hum and chirp and sing all day. Now it was also a relief, a steady reminder their friend was back home, safe and sound, and he frowned again, thinking of how close they had come to losing him for good. That they would have, had it not been for Virgil.

 Speaking of…

 “Patton?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen, the Ampen stopping his trilling as he set the kettle on the stove, giving him one of his warm, happy smiles, that seemed to actually light up the room.

 “Yeah, Lo? Everything ok?” Patton’s antennae twitched slightly, and he focused back on the present.

 “Yes, I believe so, I was simply wondering if you’d seen Virgil today. He is usually awake by now. I was hoping to discuss some… perhaps sensitive topics, that I picked up on during our vidi.”

 It was true. He hadn’t seen much, with how fast it had all turned, and spiraled out of hand, and though Virgil and him had been having question and answer sessions, the ones he really wanted to ask seemed more… personal. So, he’d kept them to himself, and simply continued his observations, and studied up on the information available to him.

 And what he’d noticed was… concerning, to say the least. He was certain the human wasn’t sleeping enough. Unlike most species, humans could run on limited sleep for an extended period of time, but he was slowly becoming aware that just because humans had the capability to do something, didn’t mean it was natural or good for them to do it. They could survive grievous injuries that would have killed any other species, but it came at great physical and mental cost. They could survive intense radiation, but they would sicken slowly and die. They could imbibe substances that a single sip would be deadly to himself, but even in small amounts, it inhibited a human’s survival instincts and weakened them.

 So just because Virgil was running on, at his best guess, four to five hours of sleep a day, didn’t mean that was anywhere near the healthy range of a human’s normal requirements. He’d noticed some of the side effects so commonly, he’d thought they simply were how humans were, until the Vidi gave him glimpses at others, who lacked the bags under their eyes, the deep bruising, that Virgil always had. Virgil was often unsteady on his feet, “light headed” he called it, he often stared out into space for minutes at a time, without registering anything that was said or happening around him, he ran into things, doorframes, corners of furniture, he stumbled and often had to lean against something to regain his balance.

 The other issue was his diet. Logan was absolutely certain that Virgil was not eating nor drinking enough. With his permission, he’d taken his heart rate, he’d calculated how many calories his body must burn, at the least, throughout a day. With no physical activity, no exertion, the very base level of sleep, Virgil was missing at least hundreds, if not nearly a thousand, necessary calories, and that was if he were in a relaxed state, which he never was. The human was endlessly jumpy and frightened and twitchy, and he had admitted that his heart rate was much higher than it should be, most of the time, due to his constant state of high alert. But despite this, he ate nearly the least at meals, always pushing food around his place, making excuses to take small portions, at least half the time Logan was certain he hadn’t eaten at all until he was forced to at their daily dinner together, and only then because he didn’t want to upset Patton. Based on his limited understanding, Virgil was immensely underweight and incredibly sleep deprived, both dangerously unhealthy states for humans.

 “oh! I peeked in on him a bit ago. He'd just woke up, said he was going to take a shower. I’m kinda surprised he isn’t out here yet.” Patton frowned, his feathers fluffing in distress.

 “I see. I'll go check on him, Patton. Save me a cup?” He smiles as Patton’s face lights up again, only half surprised as Patton jumps at him, hugging him. He carefully supports the Ampen, holding him close, allowing his head to rest against Patton's small, fluffy shoulder.

 “Thanks, Lo. For looking out for him.” Patton mumbled, as Logan let him go, setting him back down on the counter.

 “Of course, Patton. It’s the least I can do. He deserves to not only be safe, but feel safe. I am happy to help make that happen.” Patton's feathers pulsed his trademark light blue, a sign of happiness, that made Logan’s hands flutter, trying to record the warmth in his chest, as he turns away.

…

He woke up with a groan, pushing the cupboard door open, jumping as his door opened, hitting his head against the back of the cupboard at the sudden movement, breath speeding wildly, before he registered Patton’s head poking in, concerned eyes on him.

 “Hey, kiddo. Just checking in. Everything ok?” He sighed, but pushed back his exhaustion, summoning a small smile, making it as reassuring and genuine as possible, not difficult, faced with a small ball of fluff.

 “I’m alright, Pat. Just catching up on some zee’s. Was gonna go shower.” Patton nodded, hopping into his arms for a quick snuggle, before chirping a happy goodbye and vanishing out the door.

 He slumped back against the pylon behind him with another groan, rubbing his hands across his face, then up into his hair, wincing as he felt his hair stick straight up, matted with sweat. He’d stayed in bed far later than usual, but he hadn’t slept more. The night had been plagued with nightmares and sleep paralysis, filling him with terror so deep he couldn’t even scream, could merely panic until he passed out once more, tossing and turning restlessly.

 He felt shivery, cold, and his head spun just a bit as he stood, his stomach turning at the motion, vertigo rocking him as he leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to get his bearings.

 “fine. I’m fine.” He muttered, taking a few deep breaths in and out, before making his way to the door, listening for a few moments to make sure he couldn’t hear Roman anywhere nearby, he didn’t think he could handle the Crav’n in his current state.

 Which was normal and healthy and perfectly fine. He had to be fine.

 He made it to the bathroom with minimal stumbling, his vision barely swimming in and out, as he stripped, and turned on the water, hot enough it would probably burn any other members of their little band, but he just sighed in relief as he stepped in, letting the water run over him, soothe the aches building in his muscles. He let out a sigh, halfheartedly scrubbing at his hair, zoning out as he watched the steam.

 As he watched, it seemed to form a shape, to swirl into a nebulous form, and his breathing stuttered, heart stopping, as he stared in fear at the suited figure, one of his captors, a needle stabbing down towards him, and he flinched back, the world blurring and swirling and fading out around him, static roaring through his ears, his heart racing as static filled his vision as well. Distantly, he heard knocks, someone maybe calling his name, then he felt his legs give out, his head hit something hard, and the world went black.

…

“Virgil? Are you alright?” He heard a loud thump, a crash, and his eyes widened, knocking again. “Virgil? If you do not answer me, I am going to enter. Virgil!” Nothing. He threw open the door, breath catching, freezing in place at the sight.

 Virgil was sprawled across the bathroom floor, unconscious. His breathing seemed somewhat labored and shallow, and he could hear the slight wheeze to it from the doorway. What caught his eye first were the endless collection of scars, all across his body, covering nearly every inch of his skin, and it turned his stomach, it made him sick, the level of trauma and abuse Virgil must have endured. He’d known it wasn’t good, known he’d been a lab rat, an experiment, a being to harvest then sell off the parts once he was drained dry, but knowing it and seeing the scars, the marks of old burns from the stun batons, was something else entirely. And nothing Virgil had said had indicated the violence against him to be to this extent. He felt another surge of appreciation, for Virgil having protected Patton.

 The second thing, that finally forced him into motion, was the small pool of red forming around the human’s head, likely where the back of his skull had impacted with the floor. Quickly, he grabbed a towel from off the rack, and rolled Virgil onto his side, wiping away the blood from his neck and hair, to see where to apply the pressure. He breathed a sigh of relief as he located the wound, surprisingly small, given the amount of blood loss, and he was confident a few moments of pressure would easily stop it.

 “ROMAN!” He shouted with all his might, voice shaking and unsteady, hearing the crashing footsteps of the Crav’n immediately, the being sliding into the doorway mere moments later, scales raised to their extremes, teeth bared, ready to fight, no doubt hoping for an excuse to fight the human.

 “Logan? What’s-“ Patton darts in around Roman’s legs, eyes widening as he instantly is at Virgil’s side, trembling, eyes wide as saucers.

 “I need help. Roman, he’s heavy, I need-“

 “Ok. Ok, teach, I got you. Let’s get him dressed, then I’ll move him to the couch. What’s… what happened?”

 “I’m not entirely sure. I knocked and heard a crash, when I entered, he was like this. I suspect it has something to do with his malnutrition and sleep deprivation.” He answered, focusing on carefully pulling Virgil’s hoodie over his head, hands clenching sharply as one brushes his forehead. “he’s burning up.”

 “That’s what happens when he’s… when he’s sick. Humans get all hot and shivery and sometimes their stomach hurts and they can’t eat. But that only happened on the… on the ship. When… when it was really bad.” His voice wavered, feathers flattening.

 “I would suspect that he has been feeling ill for a couple of days now, if it’s grown severe enough to make him pass out. His normal temperature is around 98.6 to 99, I would estimate his to be closer to one hundred and three. Has he seemed off to you, Patton?”

 “He’s spent less time with me. Less time out of his room. I thought he just needed some space, but… but he was trying to hide he was sick, wasn’t he?”

 “Why would he do that? Did he think we’d just abandon him like some deathworlder would an injured comrade?” Roman snorted disdainfully, helping pull pants onto the human, though Patton could see the concern hiding behind his outrage.

 “Contrarily, he probably didn’t want to be a burden. To use up more of our resources and time. He constantly sees himself as lesser, as the least important of the group, therefore the one who should take up the least space, least time, least amount of food. Surely, you’ve noticed, Roman.”

 “I…hadn’t. I’ll take him now, Pat.” He mumbled softly, gently shooing him back as he scooped Virgil into his arms, surprised at how light the human was, his head lolling limply against his chest, his cheeks flushed, while the rest of his face was even paler than usual. He could feel the frantically rapid beat of his heart, his eyes flicking uneasily under their lids, and his scales flattened in concern. As much as he didn’t trust the human, he didn’t want to see him hurting, either. And if what Logan said was true, Virgil had not only been hurting, but hurting himself, out of, what? Loyalty? Worry? He just couldn’t get a handle on him.

 Then again, he hadn’t tried very hard to get to know him, or to give him a chance. But there was something in seeing him so vulnerable, without the usual piercing stare and silent slink, that made him soften a bit, made him remember that despite being one of the most fearsome creatures in the universe, that Virgil was essentially a child, by human standards. He was so thin, too. He could count his bones, under that hoodie. No wonder he was always cold, he had no layer of fat on his bones.

 And those scars…

 Well. It was enough to almost make him rethink his view on Virgil, at least, as he laid him down on the couch in the common area, Patton immediately taking a seat by his head, brushing his hands soothingly through Virgil’s hair, as the human shook, muttering something in his sleep that was undecipherable, though the tone of fear was impossible to miss, as his hand clenched against the fabric.

 “We need to break his fever. Blankets, Roman? I’ll get you a washcloth and water for his forehead, Patton. If he wakes, he is likely to be disoriented or possibly even hallucinate, because of the fever. However, I have no doubt he will calm immensely upon registering your presence. You are… his lifeline, Patton.” Patton nodded, continuing to focus on Virgil, doing the coo chirp pattern used to soothe babies, one of the first things Virgil had mimicked back to him, back on that awful ship.

 “He’ll… he’ll be ok, right? He just needs some sleep and he’ll be okay?” His voice trembled, and Logan’s hands clasped behind his back, eyes darting as he looked for the right words to say.

 “I don’t know. There’s so little information, Patton, I keep looking and there’s just… not enough, to help him, in any meaningful way. There’s no way of knowing if this is just a ‘flu’ or if it is something more severe. I know his heart rate is high and his breathing rasping, but I don’t know if that’s the result of the illness or simply stress, I would give him medicine, but I don’t know what he can have, what would be helpful, and I don’t know what to do if it’s something we aren’t equipped to handle!” He exploded, pacing the floor somewhat frantically, hands flailing wildly, wincing as one smacked the wall. “I don’t know what to do, but wait.” He said, softer, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his hand, looking up as Roman came to stand before him, gently patting one of his arms.

 “It’s ok, Lo. No one expects you to have all the answers. We know you’ll do your best. You always do.” Logan nodded, pulling himself together somewhat, striding off to the kitchen, Roman heading down the hall to raid the extra blankets from the closets.

 “you’ll be ok, kiddo. I promise.” Patton murmured, nuzzling against Virgil’s cheek, giggling as Virgil mumbles again, leaning into his touch, hand unclenching, face relaxing minutely. When Logan came back, he huffed fondly, Patton curled up against Virgil’s shoulder, just a ball of puffed up blue feathers, pulsing soothingly.

[hiswhiteknight]

Always - Jamie Reagan

Always - Jamie Reagan One Shot

Here is my first request from @lclb13​ - hope you like it! It was my best interpretation! 

(I don’t own the characters or gifs)

Warning: Cursing, Woman being attacked

Gif** I got from Tenor, but I couldn’t find the username. 

Gif** LauraDunn1 from Tenor app

You hopped out of the shower, drying your hair, before wrapping the towel around your body. With the smile on Jamie’s face, you could tell he was awake, “You should be sleeping,” you sing to him.

He sat up, his hair all messy, “Come here,” he said trying to reach for you.

Taking a few steps, you shake your head, “Oh no, I’m not being late to work again, I know that face.”

Giving you a pouty face, he says, “Please.”  You roll your eyes, letting him take your hand, “I can’t sleep when you are being so distracting.” You see the look in his eye and shake your head knowing what he is going to do. He pulled you into the bed, laying on top of you, “What will being a little late hurt?”

He tried to kiss you and you put a finger to his mouth stopping him, “Oh, I don’t know I’m a doctor, so you know death, plague, the works.” Now he is the one shaking his head, “But you sure are cute with your bed head.”

This time he just took the time just to stare at you, love gushing from his eyes, “I’m so lucky to have you,” he murmured, “I’m married to a rock star doctor.”

You put your head to his, “Yeah, I am pretty amazing,” you grin, “But it doesn’t matter how much you butter me up, I am not being late to work today.” You lean down to give him a deep kiss before bolting out from underneath him, “You need to sleep, you can’t protect this great city if you are dead on your feet.”

“Save some lives babe,” he lays back down, watching you finish grabbing your things.

You send him a grin, “Always.”

 You loved being an ER doctor, it was fast pace and you had to use your head. There was a fire at a group home, so you were helping triage the victims. Burns were some of the hardest cases to handle. You were sitting with a young man with burns down his forearm, but not much damage like the others, “How’d you get these burns,” you said, trying to peel the fabric from the flesh.

You were getting the feeling something was off, he was fidgety, and you could tell he didn’t want to be there, “I don’t know, the house was on fire, maybe running away.”

“Odd,” you say out loud. You should have just finished your job. You learned in med school, it wasn’t your job to investigate, but being married to a cop and his cop family, it got even harder not to try to connect the dots. “Where these burns are, they-,” before you could finish your sentence the guy cold socked you right in the face. It took your breath away and before you could call for help, he kneed you, and tackled you to the ground. You tried to block your body and fight back, but it only took a few seconds before a guard and nurse saw the commotion and yanked him off you.

 You were sitting on a gurney, trying not to be inpatient, “Come on Roxy,” you urged, “Can I be cleared to do my job now?”

“Y/N, you were attacked. Shit, you have a black eye, busted lip, and some bruised ribs. Stop being wonder woman and go home,” she fused over you.

“I’m staying in principle, nurses deal with this crap all the time and are expected to stay,” She continued to monitor your charts, trying to ignore your self-righteous speech, “You get knocked down, you get back up. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“Y/N,” she said, not looking up from the chart she was scanning. This got your attention, something was up, “Did you know you are pregnant?”

Your eyebrows shot up, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood work just came back, do you mind if I do an ultrasound,” she worked quickly, not really waiting for a response. She was one of your best friends, nearly like sisters. She didn’t need your words to know your wishes. Suddenly there was a heartbeat sound, “About 11 weeks,” she said to you, “Babe don’t you monitor your period?”

A hiccup laugh left you mouth, a shot of happiness spiked up your spine, “I’ve just been so busy, make sense with the weight gain. I just assumed it’s was the Reagan Sunday dinner.”

She pointed something out which took your breath away again, “Twins, Y/N, you’re having twins,” she pulled up the ultrasound, “It’s shitty timing for your first ultrasound, but here it is,” she gushed.

She printed out the picture and you just stared at it.

“Two,” you question again.

She wiped off your belly and smiled, “Damn right, go big or go home lovely,” your friend said. Everything was blank, you didn’t know what to say, you were so happy and yet so intimidated, “You’re going to be a great mom,” she said.

You nod, “Thanks, hey do me a favor don’t call Jai-,” you tried to finish before you heard his voice.

“Damn right she called me,” he shouted, “You should have called me,” cupped your cheek examining your face. You hid the picture behind you, shaking off Roxy. You didn’t want Jamie to find out this way, under these circumstances, “I’m going to ignore the fact that I’m freaking pissed for the moment, are you okay?”

You take Jamie’s hand away from you face and hold it tight, “I swear, I’m fine. I just want to get back to work.”

“Look at your face babe,” he whispered.

Everything was interrupted by the yelling voice of Danny from the hall, “You told the family,” you roll your eyes. You look at Roxy, “You are a tattle tale, you know that,” you point at her.

“Hey, I like them to remember times like this when I need help with a speeding ticket,” she smirked.

You saw Frank first, then Pop, and then Erin, “How you are doing Y/N,” Frank asked, “Need anything?”

“Yeah,” you point to the door, “Tell Danny to leave the young man alone, he has a mental illness and needs help. He’ll do his time for his crimes. And Danny is disrupting my hospital.”

“Y/N,” Jamie whines acting annoyed.

“What,” you shoot back. “If this was you, you’d be back on the street within an hour.”

“Okay,” Pop interrupts the argument about to start, “How about we all just focus on Y/N, she doesn’t need any fights or drama right now.”

Roxy stepped in again, “Boss just got back, he says you have to take a few days off and he’ll have to be the one to clear you for duty.”

“Alright, the verdicts in, Y/N your coming with us. We can continue this conversation after we are all calm down,” Erin shared, putting her hand on your knee, “We’ll leave you to get dressed and meet you out by the cars.”

Jamie looked at you, you could tell he felt pretty helpless. And you weren’t ready to break the news to him, not like this.

 It’s been two days of laying around the house and having a Reagan take care of you at all time. You and Jamie haven’t spoken much because it usually ends up in an argument. It was a mixture of being treated like you were glass and the fact that you haven’t told Jamie about being pregnant.

It was Sunday evening and you were trying to help with dinner. Danny and Pop were trying to teach you some self-defense moves, but you didn’t pay much attention. You were stuffing your mouth with mashed potatoes when the conversation of your safety became the topic, “Y/N, it can’t hurt to take some self-defense classes.”

“It was one time,” you shoot back.

Jamie looked down at his food, “You tell me all the time that nurses and doctors get attacked, bit, and spit on. It’s not one-time thing.”

You clink your fork down, “If I was a man, would you be having this same conversation with me.”

“Yes,” all the men shout.

Slamming back your chair, you stomp, “Fine, let me go find some defense classes to make the poor men in this group feel better,” and you rush to the study.

Rather than stall, you remember a few of your friends take self defense classes. Within ten minutes, you are talking to the head of the hospital and having them offer a free six-week training for all staff for appropriate self-defense training. You rush back and sliding your chair back, “Happy, the hospital will be offering a six-week self-defense class to all staff who’d like to participate?”

You continue to eat, ignoring the amazement from the people around the room, “You were gone fifteen minutes,” Danny questioned, his tone shocked, “I’d hate to see what you can do in a day.”

“Ya’ll need peace and mind, I’m here to offer you solace in regards to my own safety,” you continue to eat a slice of cake you stole from the kitchen, “But know, I can only do it for so long.”

“Why,” one of the kids asked, “Don’t you want to do it until your good at it.”

“Well Sean, I’ve got another timeline to consider.”

It hit Frank and Erin first, a smile growing on their faces, “A timeline,” Jamie asked, “What haven’t you told me, I don’t know anything about a timeline?”

Sighing, you drop your fork full of cake to reach behind you to your purse. You were acknowledging this was not how you wanted to tell Jamie and the family, but you let your frustrations get the best of you and let you slip out the news. At this point, Danny and Pops were catching on, “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but family dinner makes sense.”

You pass him the picture, Erin is in near tears, “Really,” she asked stepping out of her seat. Nicky rushed around the table and hugged you tight.

“Watch the cake, pregnant lady and dessert will cause real pain and damage if someone gets between them,” you tried to watch Jamie’s reaction.

He continued to stare at the picture. Everyone was waiting for his reaction, “Is this,” he looked up at you, nearly looking like he was going to cry, “Is this, are there two,” he questioned.

“Twins,” Danny yelled, “Nice.”

Suddenly everyone was getting up, trying to congratulate us. But Jamie and you were sharing this moment together, “Yeah, I’m 11 weeks with twins.”

He jumped up, scooping you in his arms and twirling you around, “I love you so much.”

He put you down, staring at you and only you, “I love you too.”

Pops slapped him on the back and we finally acknowledged the rest of the family. There was a giant congratulations and a billion questions, but you didn’t expect anything different from the Reagans. Jamie held you hand tightly, “You know what this means,” Danny asked out loud to the group. “You got to start learning now before you-.”

Erin stepped in, “If you like breathing, I’d recommend you keep those thoughts in your head.”

“Smart woman,” you say to her, pointing your finger at Danny.

Jamie looked down at you again, “Just promise you’ll be careful,” he said.

“Always,” you kiss him, before reaching for more cake.