#i can't function cause of my body right now and I'm so frustrated

[uwuthomasuwu]

Really feeling the medical anomaly part of chronic illness/pain type of disability.

[genderqueerdykes]

had the consult for my gallbladder surgery. the doctor told me i need to "lose 10 - 15 pounds" before they'll perform the surgery on me, and that I would need to wait 2 - 3 months before they would schedule it. i told her i have PCOS which makes it difficult to lose weight. she told me that does happen, and offered to refer me to a bariatric surgeon who is used to bigger bodies who could perform the gallbladder removal instead. i asked her for the referral to them instead

i was very angry at her for this, as 10 - 15 pounds do not make any difference when you are 300 lbs. my weight fluctuates between 280 - 340 lbs depending greatly on what i've eaten, how much i exercise, and so on. this will also vary greatly depending on if the stone is blocking my gallbladder completely or partially- if it's fully blocking the neck of my gallbladder, i cannot get enough digestive juices into my stomach to properly digest my food, so i will begin violently vomiting to get the undigested food out, and to get bile flowing into my stomach again. i begin to lose tons of weight when this happens, and i put it back on during the periods where i can get enough bile in my stomach to properly digest my food.

i can't digest my food properly. eating "healthier" will not change this- i can't digest food at all, period. healthy or unhealthy, i can't digest anything, because a good half of my digestive juices are completely missing from my guts. there is a functional issue with the way my guts work, of course i will lose weight drastically and put it back on at times. of course the issues will be episodic.

both her and the student that was working with me kept assuming that i said that my pain got worse after "high fat" meals. both of them put this in my mouth-

the student did it first. she asked when the pain gets worse and i said sporadically, but sometimes after i eat. she literally asked me "so you said it gets worse after fatty meals, right?"

i got frustrated and said "no, it's really random." i didn't get to tell her that raw leafy vegetables and lightly steamed or cooked vegetables make me vomit. broccoli and cauliflower that aren't heavily cooked, salads, raw vegetables, lightly cooked carrots, applesauce and apples in general are all problem foods.

the doctor then came in and said "it gets worse after high fat meals, right? you said that" and i went, again, "no it just kinda happens."

i don't even eat a high fat diet. i cook at home now for every meal now that i have all the tools i need to do so. i make rice, fish, pasta, and certain vegetables that i can digest like potatoes, sweet potatoes, onions, mushrooms, and so on. i eat bread, seeds, nuts, dried fruits, and drink oatmilk. i don't eat land meats, eggs, or dairy. i don't have any of those things. i do eat french fries and fish sticks, but not for every single meal. i don't eat chips because they're too salty and irritate my stomach. i don't eat candy or sweets unless the food bank delivers them to me. i don't eat much sugar other than pancakes and certain fruits

she wouldn't listen to me and went "well when you eat fatty meals, your gallbladder has to contract more and it can cause you a lot of pain." you would not believe how many times she came back to "you need to eat a lower fat diet." "the pain gets worse after you eat a high fat meal, so eat lower fat meals and your pain will go down." "just eat a lower fat diet and it'll help."

i just kind of sighed. there were tears in my eyes. i felt defeated. they made a bunch of assumptions just because i was sitting there, being fat. i was wearing long sleeves due to it being cold and they didn't get to see that i have a lot of muscle in my body mass. quite a lot. i wanted to tell them that i'm on testosterone and physically active when and where possible, and that i frequently lift heavy objects and move, but i never got a chance. i wanted to tell them my BMI isn't what they think it is, but i just didn't bother to try

i despise that people assume that fat people are fat because they eat "unhealthy" foods. i ate high fat foods for a few months while i was homeless because i didn't have the resources to cook every single meal. it affected my liver, i'm dealing with some fatty liver. but my gallbladder has more important issues in the form of the literal stone inside. she would not stop pushing for me to eat lower fat meals. all because i was sitting there, existing, as a fat person. i wish i would've told her i can only eat fish and plant matter

i don't understand how a patient telling you they're vomiting and can't keep down certain foods does not sound like a more pressing issue than an arbitrary number. weight as a number means nothing, it tells you nothing about that person's actual body composition. i have trauma with vomiting and yet i'm going to have to keep doing it anyway despite the fact that it could kill me via dehydration or if i just. can't stop

either way i'm very unhappy with result as i already waited for a month for this consult. now i have to wait for a referral for another surgeon to go through, and to do the consult with them, too. all while being in pain and having GI issues the entire time. just because a surgeon doesn't want to take the time to learn how to operate on fat bodies. i'm tired. what a joke

[prpfz]

Rule Compliance Emoji 🔥

Yo!! Ever since a few of my past partners have dropped off of the face of the Earth, there's been a vacancy open, and some plots I've quite missed writing. So, I made some similar plots and dropped them here!! If you're interested, please do dm on discord @kastion

I've little to no limits, so if you've got something in mind you want too, hit me with it!!

Plot 1: Year 2577. Muse A is a woman born with a strange condition that makes her regenerate. This regeneration is functional immortality - yes, she can die, but she always ends up coming back just fine, in the same body as before. Despite being quite literally immortal, she was always jealous of her elder sister. Taller, prettier, but most importantly? Happier. More talented. More loved by the people around them- including her dad. She felt like she could never match up to her- never be happy like she was. She ended up finding her people, a group of punks and delinquents that cause trouble for the oppressive authority. And she ended up falling for the leader of the group.

But that's not the focus of the story. As time went on, she developed a big name for herself- soldiers swearing that they managed to take her down, just for her to come back the next day or so like nothing happened. A scientist, Muse B, took an extreme interest in this, and decided to change the order from kill to capture, to run experiments and tests on her. Soon enough, she's shot down- nothing unusual for her, by this point, it's the usual. But when she eventually comes back to, she wakes up in a white room, with no windows, other than one overhead with people that peek into the room.

You would play Muse A, I would play Muse B, along with a few others.

Themes that will definitely be in this roleplay: noncon, monster fucking, torture, kidnapping

Themes that might: 🍪, snuff, group sex, body modification, pregnancy

Plot 2: Muse A is a crime lord, worked herself all the way up from the grit and dirt to become a kingpin. The way she runs this is up to you, but I always imagined that she'd be very dangerous, but mostly reasonable. She roped Muse B, a young man who owns a Toyota car dealership into working with her- getting her vehicles as off the table as humanly possible, in exchange for large amounts of pay. Now of course, if he didn't do it, it was his head. He was paid, but a choice was never there.

Suddenly, Muse B isn't supplying the vehicles, which violates their “agreement”. Muse B has her right hand woman kidnap him, and drag him to her office - or the middle of nowhere. He explains that he's been audited- that the IRS is up his ass and suspects foul play, if he tried to get her people more vehicles, they're all going down. Frustrated as she is, she understands. She can't let this go unpunished though, so she thinks of another way he can repay his debt- in what's essentially functioning as her toy.

You would play Muse A, I would play Muse B and the bodyguard.

Themes this roleplay will definitely include: dubcon, femdom, kidnapping

Themes this roleplay might: Noncon, torture, group sex

As previously stated, please dm on discord @kastion ! I'm unlikely to respond, especially in a timely manner, to reactions.

kastion

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

hi, i’ve been following you for a while but this is my first time back on the app in a long long time. I just saw your post about getting sent home from surgery, I wanted to reach out to you and let you know that you are truly not alone with your frustrations with medicine right now. i have been struggling for years with so many issues such as incredibly low ferratin, my glucose levels are off, i can’t keep my platelet level high enough and because i’m so young they refuse to help me figure out if i may have an autoimmune disease. whenever i finally get to see a doctor i’m told i just need to make a lifestyle change & to go home. I have not felt like myself in years. not only that, i’ve watched my mother go through the same thing i’m going through and come home crying because she was disregarded by yet another doctor. keep fighting, you will find help. i’m so sorry for the way you have been treated & i cannot imagine your own frustration as someone who is in the field themselves. i know it seems hopeless, but i am rooting for you <3 thank you for sharing your story so that other people feel seen as well. I truly appreciate it.

Thank you so much for reaching out. I completely understand "not feeling like myself" part. I mean I've always had chronic pain and it did limit me somewhat but I was also functioning despite it. Last two years have brought me to my knees and I can't believe it but I miss the usual chronic pain and fatigue, because this, how I am right now, is not sustainable and at this point I just want my life back. Feels like all I've done is work and sleep and gain weight, because I have no energy to do anything else. I started working out again in September and lost some weight and was thinking maybe I'm getting better and in like 3 weeks I got so much worse and the last 3 months have been absolute hell.

I went into this field to help people like me. A little selfish in a way because I used everything I can learn to help myself (lot of good it did, huh), but also to be that one doctor people come to and know their voice is heard and that the person before them will do everything to help. Medical gaslighting (for women especially) is terrible, I'm sorry they're not taking you seriously. The saddest part is that it takes either a life threatening event for them to help or 10+ years before you find someone who is willing to do the necessary work and tests and help you. I've been on both sides, I hope you find someone capable before it gets bad. If the doctor won't listen, switch doctors if you financially can or badger the first one continuously until they hear what you have to say. I wish I advocated for myself more. I wish my parents advocated for me too, because I haven't been pain free since I turned 9. Don't give up either, okay? Chronic illness girlies might be a terrible name for a club but unfortunately there's a lot of us in it. Trust your intuition and your body, you know best when something isn't right. Always trust that gut feeling. Journal symptoms with dates and severity, and if you do your labs always keep the results, form your own medical history. I'm really sorry you're going through that. I wish you didn't suffer this way. No one should be put in this position.

P.S. the lifestyle change they talk about...can hold some merrit but root cause won't be fixed by simply losing some weight and fixing your diet. I've tried. The fact they barely understand the concept of "my diet isn't great because I'm too tired to cook, I'm in pain and working out makes it worse or the I'm gaining weight because of my symptoms that you refuse to acknowledge and treat". Most of us tend to gain weight because of the chronic issues that go unresolved for so long. Hearing "lose weight" pisses me off because my symptoms were there when I was skinny too, it makes no difference. Will it help somewhat? Maybe. But to blame weight and lifestyle choices and treat that as a cure-all is frankly lazy and an insult to our lived experience.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Heya, INFP adult in standup comedy here. Your work is awesome. I'll jump right at it: I keep doing this thing where I know what kind of joke I wanna make or answer I wanna give, but it floats in my mind as a vague concept or vibe, that I can maybe match with my body language and/or tone, but not actual words. It's like I know what kind of emotional reaction would be the funniest in the exchange, and I usually even remember where I've seen it first (talk shows, comedians, movie scenes...), but I can't quite put my finger on the syntactical details in time.

Basic example. Let's say my line is "I'm too old for this" after a certain interaction: I intuitively know it's gonna be funny if I say that, =I know it's the right thing to say for the bit to keep flowing, but I also know I can't say it that way. I need to construct the sentence more, using synonyms, throwing in a reference, maybe use a funny metaphor or example... and so forth. I always called this "adding layers" to the core concept in my head, which is basically the rule I've followed to make comedy work for my entire life even if for some truly appalling reason I just can't seem to do it anymore without spending SO. MUCH. MENTAL ENERGY. like, man... I used to do this effortlessly. I thought I was good at this shit?

Every time I make an attempt at good improvisation now my brain goes nothing to see here, buddy and I end up giving the basic answer, which sometimes ruins the entire buildup, especially at the end of bits with other people (who look at me sideways in awkward silence while I pretend I'm dematerializing). It's so frustrating.

I'm assuming this has something to do with Ne? Seeing the general picture before zooming in? What's your advice (except practice, I'm already losing hair every day) to pop the bubble and come up with alternatives as fast as everyone else? Cause ngl I'd kinda like to stop rereading ChatGPT synonyms lists on my phone in the midst of a panic attack the night before meetings and weeks later realize I gained nothing from it but myopia degrees. Big thanks

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

As a writer who tackles rather serious subjects, I might not be the best person to ask about comedy. I can only offer some general thoughts about creativity and the creative process.

If I had to speculate, I'd say that your problem boils down to trying too hard. It's a surefire way to interrupt and even ruin the creative process. "Trying too hard" can take many different forms. A common form is "overthinking", e.g., overemphasizing procedural details to the point where you lose all sense of practical ability.

There is a neurological basis for this. To grossly oversimplify, the parts of the brain that are responsible for executive functioning (used for analysis and planning) and creativity (used for brainstorming and free association) are somewhat separate. Maintaining a healthy balance between the two is necessary for achieving what you're trying to do. However, since they are somewhat oppositional processes, it is easy for them to get out of balance, and then problems occur when one process overrides the other.

As a general rule, mental equilibrium is very easily disrupted by any kind of stress. Trying too hard basically increases the probability of creating a stress response in the body that disrupts normal distribution of mental energy.

For instance, a stress response might get triggered by overthinking the details about exactly how to do something. This leads you to overuse executive functioning for planning, which then dampens creative functioning. And then the more you feel "blank" creatively, the more anxious and stressed you get, and then the more you overthink. It is a vicious cycle that, if left unchecked, can shut down creativity completely. This vicious cycle is also responsible for the fatigued feeling of expending more and more energy with diminishing returns.

Note that I'm always emphasizing how important it is to improve one's emotional intelligence. It is not only people with poor mental health who need to improve EI. It's something everyone could stand to improve because emotionality is baked into the center of the human mind. If you don't have a good grasp of your emotional life, it can have a negative impact on many aspects of your mental functioning.

One of the most important applications of EI is stress management, which is vital for both physical and mental health. Stress responses can easily cascade in the brain and body, like a domino effect. In the worst case psychological scenario, the cascade can lead to a "breakdown" of some kind, such as a panic attack. Improving EI should help increase bodily awareness, which would allow you to spot stress earlier and do something about it while it is still manageable.

When you're worked up about something, the worst thing to do is anything that gets you even more worked up about it. Putting more pressure on yourself only escalates the stress response in the body. Although it sounds like trite advice, the best remedy is simply to chill out. Put reliable strategies in place for calming yourself, especially your body. There are so many possible strategies to choose from: take some deep breaths; clear the mind with a meditative state; jog around the block; shout it out; give yourself a mental break; distract yourself with a different task; have a nap; etc.

The creative process requires a certain amount of freedom, relaxation, and inspiration to work optimally. A creative "block" means there's an obstacle and you need to remove it:

freedom: you have to give yourself enough open space to experiment and grace to make mistakes

relaxation: you have to choose optimal work conditions that challenge you to rise to the occasion, but not so difficult that you drown in anxiety or dread

inspiration: you have to keep looking for new ways to stimulate and exercise the generative+imaginative+associative (Intuitive) aspects of your mind

With regard to Ne, maybe it is time you switched up your method. The more you rely on one so-called tried-and-true procedure (isn't this just another way of saying Si loop?), the more you paint yourself into a corner. And the more you feel stuck in that corner, the more you trigger stress responses that undermine the creative process.

[omegapheromone]

I think the worst part of the heat is over finally considering I was able to actually go to the store to get some food... still felt super anxious around other people and felt like I was sweating and overheating the whole time still, but at least my condition wasn't that bad. It's still definitely there, the heat itself isn't over- but it's calmed down a lot from the initial onslaught so I can actually function fairly normally now.

I also took a shower right before I went to wash off any potential scent still clinging to me after hiding in my nest for so long so I imagine I probably wasn't too much of a nuisance in terms of an overwhelming scent either. I felt very irrationally worried about it though- logically I know that people can't actually perceive any pheromones from me (because, 'real world' vs misce identity brain) but I was constantly thinking "what if" regardless.

(More rambles/complaining under the cut, all sfw, just putting the read more here for the sake of post length)

...I felt like people were staring at me, so that made it worse- even though that is almost certainly just because I have a fairly distinctive "look". Still, I imagine that if those people actually COULD sense my pheromones/omega scent for real, I'd have caused some kind of a scene bc I felt like my anxiety must've been like. So obvious. I couldn't even look up from the floor at all aside from when looking at which products to buy. Note to self to NEVER grocery shop while still in heat ever again, because it will be a nightmare. Too bad I actually genuinely needed to get some food because, you know, I'm trying to keep my flesh vessel fueled with enough nutrition.

Idk. It's such a weird thing to get so anxious about. I felt a bit crazy, like... logically, nobody is going to be able to tell that I'm in heat because, you know, non-misce people don't generally even consider that a possibility for humans. And even if people could sense my anxiety- which is entirely possible if not likely from just my body language alone- it's not like they'd know why being at the store would be so stressful for me. I wasn't ACTUALLY in danger. Even so, I constantly felt like "everyone can tell, I must be such a nuisance to everyone, I wish I had a scent blocker or heat suppressant at hand, I feel so bad and guilty for being in public like this because it must be really annoying for everyone else". That type of thing. I guess it didn't really help that I definitely noticed some people glancing at me a bunch, even though it's almost certainly just because I have a pretty distinctive and noticeable look (unnatural hair colour, etc). A kid was pointing me out to their parent in a foreign language I happen to understand a bit, and another very young kid was very openly staring at me for a good while. Kids tend to do that to me all the time, because I look interesting to kids especially, but today it just felt. Bad. And of course, when kids point me out, the parents look too. There was also this (potentially fellow queer) person who definitely did glance at me a good few times, most likely because they just wanted to do that "shared glance of acknowledgement" people tend to do when they notice another obviously Not Very CisHet Person in the wild, but god did it make me feel more anxious to know that they were continuously glancing at me in hopes of our eyes meeting in order to do that "nodding in acknowledgement except with your eyes only" thing gays do. I kept noticing it from my peripheral vision and the sentiment was very nice and everything but I was genuinely on the verge of a panic attack in the store so like, it just. Made me feel worse. Which in turn makes me feel guilty bc I must've seemed like I was avoiding them or something.

I guess I'm just like... frustrated? Because there's no "actual logic" behind any of it, aside from trauma and heat causing my emotions, esp anxiety, go kind of haywire. Also it feels silly to be genuinely paranoid of "oh god everyone can smell my heat can't they, I feel so awful for causing an inconvenience, I'm scared someone will try to hurt me" when. Absolutely nobody can tell.

Hnnng anyway... I still have to decide if I go out tomorrow since I have a therapy appointment. I really should, I haven't seen her in person in a while, but gosh, if my heat is still ongoing I'm going to feel so terrified all day again. But I do need to run other errands too... idk I'm just very. Don't know what to do.

[gabbagepatch]

Ah, fuck. 2/29/2024

Well, I'm certainly a little worse off since my last blog.

My symptoms have gotten much worse since the death of my dog, and I've acquired a cute anxiety disorder to go along with it. It's definitely some kind of medical anxiety, I am terrified of every creak and groan from my body. I'm expecting my health to rapidly deteriorate at any moment, any event to set off a fatal reaction in my body. It's completely ridiculous! I feel barely functional this week, and the worst part is that I know it's my anxiety but I can't stop! Knowing logically that you're fine seems to do little to prevent your body from deciding you're in a life-or-death scenario. The human mind is fascinating and stupid.

Luckily I have a wonderful PCP and he was happy to give me a months supply of sertraline, which I started Monday. I have to say it's already helping, no panic attacks since the first dose!

Both ears are now experiencing tinnitus, whereas before it was unilateral. This is causing me so, so much stress and anxiety because I have already lost hearing in my right, I don't want to lose hearing in my left as well.

I think the new bilateral tinnitus is causing an increase in headaches and stomach upset as well, which feels very debilitating at the moment. I am having a very hard time eating, I'm hungry all the time but can barely manage a few bites of food. It's awful.

Reached out to a therapist yesterday and I have the appointment tomorrow with an intern. I have no clue why the "intern" option appealed to me but it did, perhaps I am having some kind of clairvoyance? Hopefully it goes well, it's online which is great because I'm struggling to drive lately.

All of this combined means I chose to pull out of 2/3 classes I'm taking this semester. It's honestly breaking my heart! I was doing so well before the symptoms got worse and I lost my dog, I was enjoying my classes so much. Knowing I'm withdrawing with A's and B's is beyond frustrating; if only things were different. It makes me so sad honestly.

TLDR; I am having a rough time right now. I always keep it pushing though. Keeping up with skincare, reading, my custom nails, my ethics class. I'm doing whatever I can when I can, which isn't very much right now. I'm taking so many naps, I feel like I could sleep one hundred years. But anyways, I'm gonna come out of this better, I have faith in that.

[newhologram]

In 2022, I had an estimated 129 medical appointments. Many times I had 5 appts a week, 3 in a day even.

Here is some of the necessary care I fought for all year but still can’t access:

❌ Surgery to address upper cervical instability and 2 bulging discs in my neck ❌ Physical therapy to address my thoracic pain (it took 13 months to get an MRI) and being unable to sit up for long, as well as for my right arm nerve abnormality. Every referral for PT was over an hour away. I can't sit up to drive that long anymore. They can send the disabled shuttle to pick me up, but that's actually even longer sitting up so it's not helpful. ❌ IV ketamine to manage my depression, C-PTSD, autoimmune disorders, and chronic pain (ended up going with at-home ketamine thanks to GFM donations, but IV would be better distribution for inflammation/pain) ❌An updated sleep study since it’s been nearly 10 years since my type 2 narcolepsy diagnosis and some of my other symptoms such as frequent painful myoclonus and choking in my sleep are now making it even harder to get consistent shut-eye ❌Disability benefits and Medicare as I’m now officially considered a “complex” case and have been dropped by doctors who didn't feel they could help me ❌Endometriosis excision surgery + getting my blood-filled ovarian cyst (red thing in photo) dealt with. After several months of going to multiple specialists to rule out other things, including cancer (being monitored for lymphoma/leukemia now), I was sent to a gynecological oncologist surgeon who does the complete wrong outdated terrible no good surgery. She wanted to just do a full hysterectomy and ablation of endo lesions. ❌An updated 1 year colonoscopy after my disastrous 2021 ulcerative colitis/endometriosis flare up that landed me in the hospital. My mesorectal lymph nodes are a little enlarged and there’s a mysterious lesion in my colon, which is why they sent me to a cancer doctor for bloodwork and PET scan—but I strongly believe it’s just endometriosis invading my bowels, which is why I need the endo surgery so bad as well. I'm at the point where my colon will completely go on strike and the pain from the constipation is ER-level (especially when my period from hell comes). It's also just dangerous. I've never had this problem so intensely before, so I'm being even more careful with food and supplements. ❌Pelvic floor physical therapy to help with debilitating pelvic pain caused by endometriosis and other things ❌ A pain management doctor who can prescribe me Tramadol, which helps keep me out of the ER every month, and that has minimal side effects. Something I’ve taken safely for 6 years with no complications. Instead, they'll only Rx Suboxone, which makes it hard to function and has side effects that can cause colitis or narcolepsy complications. I have to take 1/8 of a dose and I still pay for it later.

I had so many arguments with doctors to correct them when they brought up the wrong treatment, wrong surgery, etc. Not only did some of them already know it was bullshit, but others wouldn’t even try to have an open enough mind to keep learning past medical school.

This year was a lot of disappointment and frustration. I feel so worn down. This kind of medical trauma erodes hope and optimism. When intuition about our own bodies and the hours we put into research means nothing to medical professionals or insurance, it feels like we're at the end of the road. I wouldn’t wish the necessity for this kind of resilience on anyone. I wouldn’t have been able to withstand this year without the ketamine therapy or support from friends and followers. I cannot express what it means to have that, especially when I'm still pretty isolated day-to-day. To manage things on my own, I paid out of pocket for acupuncture, cryotherapy, red light therapy, ketamine, many new supplements, all kinds of new massage/trigger point/gua sha/acupressure tools. I went hard on a self-care/pain mgmt routine that I’m proud of, but I’m still very much disabled by persistent, impenetrable chronic pain/fatigue. I was thankfully able to get some prescriptions that help with flare ups, such as Xanax and Toradol. This is one of my many blessings in 2022. My fight is far from over but I want to go into 2023 with softness.

No more pushing through 16 appts per month while also forcing myself to constantly record and edit new content. I want to recline my floor chair and rest my back while I focus on editing older stuff. I have no idea how long it will take to get through my backlog of projects but I’m going to be putting certain things on hiatus so I can just take it slow.

If you enjoy any of my content at all, please share it and consider donating. Your support helps me afford my supplements and medication to keep managing my symptoms even when I'm not able to work that much. GoFundMe: Help New get relief from chronic pain & illness Ko-Fi: Make a micro-donation (name in YouTube endscreen!) Patreon: Monthly support and access to Hologram Discord server (name in YouTube endscreen!) Thank you for helping me be strong this year, Holograms. I love you all very much.

[imagines-by-cleo]

Hiii

If you still take requests, may I ask for a scenario where reader is frustrated with her family and work and stuff and Erwin, her s/o, distract her by... y'know... eating her out and worshipping her?

It's fine if you don't like to do it, I'm just on an Erwin brain rut right now👀

Sorry to keep you waiting, I was taking a little social media break for a bit while dealing with some work stuff, but I'm glad to be back writing for all my lovely friends!

It's nice to let your comfort characters actually function as a source of comfort once in a while, cause I'm used to writing the rough stuff but Erwin is a man that does both and does them well. I can't stress enough how much I need a large blonde man waiting for me when I get home from working a double.

CW: SMUT, whump, hurt/comfort, teasing, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, dirty talk

The sound of your keys jingling as they unlocked the front door had never sounded so welcoming, signaling the beginning of the end of a day that had gone on for far too long. You found the whole house was dark save for a light in the living room where Erwin was sitting on the couch reading under a lamp. Dragging your tired body across the room, kicking your shoes off in the process, you threw yourself onto the couch resting your head on his lap. He didn't seem to mind, only running his fingers through your hair while continuing his book.

"You're home late, they must have had you working overtime." He commented, only receiving a sigh from you in response.

He smiled down at you, twirling the odd strands of hair worked out of place over the course of the day. The warmth of his body soaking into your tired muscles, releasing the tension built up for hours.

"I've never been this tired." You sighed

"You poor thing." He responded, rubbing his palm over your back. "You deserve better than this job."

That first gasp came out of your mouth quicker than you could have anticipated, soon enough the tears followed along with more sobs as you covered your face in your hands. Sitting up you tried to compose yourself, taking heaving breaths in an attempt to calm down faster. Erwin tossed his book onto the end table not even bothering to mark his page before pulling you close, large arms wrapping securely around your shaking body. Sniffing into his shirt and letting tears stain the fabric

"I swear I'm just going to quit." You sobbed into his chest. "I can't keep working like this all the time."

"Shhh it's okay now, I'm here for you." He cooed, brushing your hair away from your face and leaning to kiss the tears off your reddening cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I had such a rough day I don't know what came over me." You explained.

"You don't have to be sorry." He said. "You worked so hard and I'm very proud of you."

He kissed you again, beginning a trail that lead along your jawline and under your ear. You sighed at the touch of his lips on your sensitive skin and tilted your head to give him access to your neck. Hands dragging across your back softly kneading into your sore muscles, releasing the last of the leftover tension from the workday.

Carefully laying you onto your back while unbuttoning your shirt he began to trail down to your newly exposed collarbone, while you shimmied out of it he moved to undo your belt with minimal hesitation. Your legs draped over his shoulders after Erwin lifted them to remove your slacks along with the panties underneath, then tracing his fingers along your skin feeling the firmness of your calf and the softness of your thighs. Now left bare under him struggling to keep from covering yourself before his head lowered, wishing you had the chance to shower knowing you were about to be seen like this.

Not that that it mattered to him, acting like he didn't notice diving right in between your legs. Pressing a series of soft kisses to your clit while his hands ran up and down your thighs, savoring the first moments of contact with your most sensitive parts. Starting with one slow lick over your slit you gasped at the warm wet feeling of his tongue moving against you, inadvertently rolling your hips into his face at the second touch.

"Just relax, I want to take my time with you." He said in a cheeky tone, moving his kisses to your inner thigh.

You stilled, allowing him to continue like he planned. Tongue moving slow and dancing around your clit, barely touching as he slowly worked his way between your folds. His own saliva mixing with your increasing wetness made a distinct noise that echoed in the room, growing louder as time went on. He groaned as his tongue dove deeper, causing a pleasurable vibration through you core. Almost whining when he pulled away, you watched him licking his lips.

"Do you have any idea how good you taste?" He asked, voice low and strained.

"Tell me." You sighed, throwing your head back onto the cushions,

"It's so sweet." he told you, scooping with his tongue to collect more of your wetness. "And warm."

Licking up all of the juices that leaked out of you was an endless task, he would always create more by massaging your clit with the tip of his tongue. You shuddered when his lips surrounded your sensitive nub as he started to suck, once again struggling not to buck into his mouth. You could feel Erwin smirking at your reaction, but it didn't matter to you how smug he was as long as he kept doing it.

Not realizing how tightly you had been gripping the furniture beneath you until you moved a hand to thread through Erwin soft golden hair, making him hum under your touch. It caught you off guard when he slipped a single finger inside you, the sudden yet welcome intrusion taking the breath right out of your lungs. Clenching around the digit as it slowly curled, your sighs turning to moans in direct response. Shoving it in as deep as possible before pulling it out to simply circle your entrance with his fingertip, leaving you aching for more.

He began languidly trailing his tongue over your slit from top to bottom, the rapidly changing stimulation constantly throwing you for a loop and leaving your mind too fogged to even beg for more. Gently moving your hips you tried to meet every lick, tossing a leg over the back of the couch gave yourself better leverage and him better access. Erwin started to wiggle his tongue deep into your core causing you to twist his hair tigher in hopes he would go faster. You felt him groan through your entire body in response, unsure if it was because you were pulling his hair or because he was enjoying himself. The way he was grinding into the couch gave you the answer, you could imagine he was trying to finish you off quickly because he had new intentions.

That hand you missed so much returned, rapidly rubbing circles on your clit and changing rotation when you least expected. Back arching as your orgasm approached, pressing his face deeper grinding into the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, Erwin." You panted along with a string of babbled pleas. "Don't stop."

Every single muscle tensed and twitched in anticipation, with what little control you had you pulled him closer with the leg sitting on his shoulder. With his free hand he grabbed a handful of your asscheek, keeping you spread and allowing his tongue to reach new depth. His rhythm never faltered, steadily coaxing an orgasm out of you unbothered by tight your grip on him grew. Excitedly he cleaned every single drop that gushed from your core like it was the nectar of the gods, making no effort to do it neatly apparent by the sloppy sound of him lapping at your folds.

Easing your grip as you rode out the last few spasms of your climax you stroked his now tangled hair while he licked you dry. Placing a few final kisses on your clit before rising to wipe his mouth with your discarded workshirt, you listened to him struggle to catch his breath without panting. Staring up at him with half lidded eyes, a content smile spread across your face as your exhaustion returned. He stayed for a moment, taking in the sight before him while you tried not to drift away.

"Let's get you to bed." He sighed, returning your smile.

"Carry me?" You asked, holding your arms up and grasping the air like a toddler.

This earned a chuckle from him, he leaned to kiss your forehead while snaking his arms around your back. After he lifted you with minimal effort you realised how numb the lower half of your body had become as he carried you upstairs to your bedroom. The cool feeling of sheets on your skin was a nice relief as you were laid gently onto your bed.

"Get some rest, you earned it." He told you, draping a blanket over your sore body.

"Stay here for a minute." You said, catching his hand before he walked away.

Unable to resist he crwaled into bed next to you, letting you position yourself however felt comfortable onto his chest while you wrapped your arms around him and used him like a body pillow.

"I love you." You mumbled, kissing his cheek before laying your head on his shoulder.

"I love you too." Erwin replied.

Completely forgetting the day you had you drifted off, settled by the soft rise and fall of his chest. The last thing you remember was feeling him once again playing with your hair, lulling you into a long night of sweet dreams.

[song-of-the-rune]

so yeah I've been thinking a lot about what Kaz means to me as an OC because I am way more attached to him than other major NPCs and more than OCs I make as deliberate inserts (genre usually reserved for video games, see xyll & co).

And the attachment feels... different in ways I don't know how to explain. Most of my characters eventually develop minds of their own, so this isn't what I'm talking about, I wish I had the words for what's been going on in my head lately. Anyway. I tend to, when I'm not feeling (mentally) well, end up venting through him by writing him venting about his own frustrations. And then it hits me that this character who represses all of his feelings until he can't anymore has... well, more or less my own repressed feelings, warped through the lens of this magical world where a lot of my own problems don't really exist but there's this whole set of new ones.

Anyway, brain, let me paraphrase this monologue, removing everything magical without substituting anything back in.

"I'm repulsed and betrayed by the changes this body has gone through and the way it will age to the point that I refuse to care for it because I can't stand to confront what it is, but I also feel too much a sense of obligation not to upset the status quo because I feel a sense of duty to people in my life who will not understand. I honestly would rather die in the body I was supposed to have than live in the one I have now, but even that is completely unacheivable. My bodily functions distress me, and when I get upset, it initiates a feedback loop that causes me to notice more the things about my body that upset me. I know there are people who always expected me to become what I am, which I won't even name out loud because it causes so much dissonance, but I miss an earlier time where I could pretend that maybe it wouldn't happen. Ultimately, I am mourning the life I'll never get to have. I'm trying to learn how to make the best of this body because it's the only one I get, but I'm so overwhelmed with despair at this point and all I want right now, at this moment, is to give up, because I don't see how I can ever be what I was supposed to be."

FINE I GET IT BRAIN YOU'RE NOT FUCKING SUBTLE

Help I was having fun writing and now my brain is calling me out on personal issues

[babymetaldoll]

"Blocked" (Spencer Reid x Reader) (Blurb)

A/N: This is the more self-indulging fic I've ever written. I'm sorry I haven't written much. I'm blocked and depressed and working on it. I am much better at many things right now, just not at writing yet. Thank you for sticking around.

Word count: 679

Summary: Spencer tries to comfort his girlfriend when she feels frustrated 'cos she can't write a story.

Hardcore fluff

Masterlist

- “I quit!!”- (Y/N) shouted, closing her laptop, resting her head and arms on it.

- “Boo, are you ok?”- Spencer walked into their home office and found his girlfriend basically laying on her desk, face hidden in her arms.

- “No. I can’t do this! I can’t write a word, my stories are going nowhere”

- “Come on, (Y/N). You know what your doctor said. You don’t have to push yourself.”- Spencer moved a chair and sat next to (Y/N). He caressed her hair sweetly, knowing that was something she loved, and it never failed to comfort her.

- “I just don’t feel like myself anymore, Spencer”- she whispered- “Writing is what I love doing the most. It’s what brings me joy and calm. It’s my escape from real life.”

- “I know. Just remember what we talked about, cerebral damage in major depressive disorder patients can lead to weaker cognitive functions. Long-term cortisol hormone exposure causes neuron development to slow or stop, leading to shrinkage. Hippocampus damage leads to memory problems, trouble with concentration, and executive dysfunction.”

Spencer just wanted to make his girlfriend feel better. He just didn’t know how to do it. Explaining the reason why she couldn’t concentrate on writing was the only idea that crossed his mind. But sadly, it didn’t work. If anything, it made her feel worst.

- “I know why it happens, honey. I just want it to stop!”- she bit her lower lips, making her best not to cry, but she knew it was impossible not to let those tears fall. Spencer hugged her, trying to comfort her. He tried to think of something else to add, but he was scared to make her feel worst.

- “I just feel like I am letting people down”- (Y/N) whispered against Spencer’s chest.

- “What? what makes you think so?”

- “I don’t know. I just… there are so many people following me, reading my stories, sharing, and commenting. And now I am not giving them anything. I love writing and sharing my stories. I…”

- “Boo, listen to me.”- Spencer held her chees and pecked her lips once before he continued talking- “You are not letting anyone down. You have the right to take some time off writing to focus on yourself. That doesn’t make you a bad person, and I am sure all your followers will understand.”

(Y/N) nodded and sighed, tears still falling from her eyes as she wrapped her arms around Spencer’s body tight and sobbed.

- “I just wanna be myself again.”

- “And you will. Just let the pills and therapy do their work, and you focus on resting and getting better. Ok?”- he felt his girlfriend nod and kissed the top of her head.

- “I’m so sorry. I hate crying so much”- she whispered against his shirt. (Y/N) tried to move from his embrace, but Spencer didn’t let her.

- “Don’t say that. I’m glad you feel comfortable with me and I wanna be here for you every time you need me. I love you, (Y/N), all of you.”

- “Even the things I hate? like my depression?”- Spencer ran his long fingers between his hair and kissed her forehead.

- “When you like someone, you like them in spite of their faults. When you love someone, you love them with their faults.”

(Y/N) moved from Spencer’s arms and looked into his eyes, with a small warm smile on her lips, still keeping him very close to her.

- “Are you quoting Hermann Hesse to look smart, Dr. Reid?”

- “I’m.”- he answered with a smirk, making her smile wider.

- “Thank you for always believing in me, and loving me so much.”

- “Actually, I might show schizophrenia signs at any day now,”- Spencer said, clearly joking- “So… if things get ugly, you are gonna have to take care of me too”- (Y/N) chuckled and kissed her boyfriend’s lips.

- “The bipolar and the schizophrenic. What a pair.”

- “Yes, we could fight crime.”- Spencer chuckled at his own words and felt his heart flutter when (Y/N) giggled.

- “That’s a story I could definitely write.”

[lethargicsunlight]

Dabi X SpookyQuirk!Reader "I Want to Know You" (Part 9)

I'm still behind at work, but I got hit with the itch so I stayed up stupid late to finish it oops

(This is also not proof read, so please forgive ;n;)

You can find the other parts of this series at my directory: LINK

It it isn't evident already, I'm not following any specific timeline here. I'm going with the flow, and writing what feels.. natural. And Good.

That said,

WARNINGS: SFW (but a little spicy early on, so rated TEEN), MHA manga/anime SPOILERS, spooky vibes, PTSD THEMES (very little)

"Hey."

The voice startles you, causing the sketchbook to snap against your legs as you look up to him.

"Woah, woah." Dabi offers you a broken and amused grin, "Does something have you spooked?"

Imagine that.

"Sorry," You straighten up and relax, "Didn't get as much sleep as I wanted. Put me a little on edge."

"Mm." His grin fades and you miss it already. "Is everything alright?"

His voice is more... threatening then sweet, and the tone matches the deadly look in his eyes. You realized then, with absolute certainty, you could name something or someone; and he would probably harm them for disturbing you.

Ironic, considering he was the culprit.

"Yeah, I'm good. I think it's just.." Your eyes catch on the staples next to his mouth, and they linger there before traveling along the puckered skin of his jaw and his chin. It's like a punch to the stomach, realizing you knew where those scars might have come from--and that you were still too scared to mention it.

He, on the other hand, interpreted your staring to mean something entirely different.

"Hn." A confident noise tumbles from his throat, and his lips are turning up into a grin again. As you open your mouth to continue verbalizing the same excuse you had given Kurogiri the night before, you find a finger being pressed to the ridge of your upper lip. Instinctively your mouth slams shut.

He leans forward, his free hand supporting his weight against the couch armrest while the other traces your cheek before he places it behind you. He's bent at the hip and looming, leaning, closer.

Your heart stutters.

"Am I the reason you can't sleep..?" He asks, breath fanning over your nose while his lidded eyes flicker between yours. When his gaze drops to your lips for a second, your breath catches in your throat--it was a full system malfunction. You felt as though he was lighting you on fire--except this felt really, really nice in comparison to the flames that engulfed you in those dreams.

Which, was barely more than a distant memory right now.

"Y-yes--I MEAN, no..?" You quickly re-learn how to force your body back to function, and try to look away from him so you can ground yourself. Your hands curl into your sketchbook; afraid to touch him. "It's not--just--I uh--"

"Shh, hey.." He leans more into the armrest and blocks out your vision again, "It's okay. I'm not going to push you into anything you don't want to do.." his features are softer, and it reminds you of laughing ghost children and how he tasted like cold seawater and smoke at the cemetery.

His constant misinterpretation of your reactions was both frustrating and intoxicating. Thank goodness the rest of the League was still conveniently elsewhere, or you would also be embarrassed.

"Although.." His voice drops, quieted by the proximity. "That look on your face.. makes it a little hard to resist."

Oh god--"D-Dabi, wait a second--"

"Hm..?" He hums inquisitively, innocently, still inching closer.

"There's something I need to discuss, we need to.. discuss.."

"Mmhm?" Darker, more purposeful.

"We.. I uhm.. Dream.."

"Yeah..?"

You could've said anything really. It wouldn't have mattered.

You were out of it, sucked into his gravity as his lips brushed against yours. Unlike the kiss out at the cemetery, this one was warm and coaxing. An invitation seemed to roll from him to you as his movements quickened, and you felt the cushion dip next to your thigh as he presses his knee unto it.

It felt dangerous.

It's like adrenaline running through his veins, but deeper. It's a compulsion he can't ignore--he can't be close enough. For so long, the scarring bothered him little. He didn't care how it looked or how it felt. But now, as you find some bravery in that caring and perfect vessel of a body to reach out and touch his face; he just wishes he could feel it better.

"Ugh, I'm starving.." "I'm barely hungry at all."

Your eyes fly open as a voice comes out from the hall going upstairs. Dabi grunts a sound of displeasure against you, giving just one more pull at your lips before he drags himself away. "Always something, huh..?" He whispers quietly, letting his disappointment show on his face before giving you a wink.

You're dazed, barely more sentient than jell-o after that charming wink; and you can't stop staring at the beautiful and boyish way his eyes light up afterwards. Wait.. shit, shit, shit! He's moving too slow!

"Huh?" Twice opens the door and catches Dabi still removing himself from the couch.

"Hey Twice."

"What was that?" Suddenly he smacks both hands to his cheeks, leaning forward. "OOOOooooh!" He begins pointing from Dabi to you and back again feverishly. "It finally happened?!"

Your eyes bulge and you slink further into the depths of the couch cushions. Dabi just straightens his stance and crosses his arms, unmoved. Damn him.

"What do you mean 'finally happened'?"

"You--and them!"

Dabi just shrugs his shoulders, "Yeah, what of it?"

Twice places his hands on his hips, "Hahhah! Knew it." "I didn't think it would happen."

Sobering quickly, you mentally groan. Realizing Dabi could manipulate you so easily was a little daunting. Hot, but daunting.

Their banter fades into the background while you contemplate how the hell to come back from that. You really needed to discuss those dreams with him, even if it meant ruining his earlier assumptions referring to you... thinking about him at night.

Not that you didn't think of him, but that sort of paled in comparison to dreaming of being burned alive on three different occasions. By his particular brand of fire.

"What do you say?"

"Hm?" You look up to Dabi as his voice interrupts your thoughts for the second time that morning.

"We're thinking about a quick brunch before Crusty gets back."

"Oh, sure."

------

"Sooo.." Twice leans in awkwardly against the low-sitting picnic table, his trench coat almost dusting his brunch. "Now that you can like, make them do things.. I mean can they hurt people?"

"I've never tried it." You say quietly, "They still have minds of their own. Asking them to just.. shank someone seems a little inappropriate."

Dabi chokes on his coffee, trying to stifle a laugh.

Twice bellows aloud, flamboyantly gesturing to the metal firebrand at your side. "Wow, you made him laugh! That's a superpower in and of itself!"

"Keep it down Twice, we can't afford to attract attention." He seethes in a hiss of a whisper, all but hiding his amusement behind the lip of his paper cup.

Aggressively overexaggerating his new instruction, Twice places a hand next to the area where his mouth should be and continued speaking in a very ragged whispering voice. "You do know we're villains right? We don't have to be appropriate! Just be yourself."

His words catch you off-guard.

Just be yourself.

You lean in, playing on his behavior, and whisper back. "Well considering they're dead and all, I kinda don't want to be mean to them, ya know?"

"Fair, fair." "That's a poor excuse."

Dabi feigns a little sigh, a hand bracing his temples as though he was exhausted by your little antics.

But the two of you only continue--within reason, and when no one was around.

Short-talk about big topics, mentions of other League members, the occasional scathing input from your partner; it was more an outing with friends than with co-workers. Pleasant, if unusual. You and Dabi were experts at deciphering Twice's mind-mangled speech, and had accepted it fully without judgement. His split personality was as mundane to you now, as the buttons on your coat or the label on Dabi's cup that said: Warning! Contains Hot Liquid.

By the time the three of you began walking back to the base, you had formed a stronger bond with Twice. Like you, he had been estranged by society--an unacceptable variant. Perhaps not for his quirk, but who he was internally; and like you, he searched for acceptance. A place to freely be himself.

It wasn't spelled out directly, but you picked it up throughout. If anything, being among the League had really improved your perception of people--and at one point, you had unabashedly used your quirk at his request. You'd left it on since, and allowed it to help you conform your responses. More out of politeness than being nosy.

Though, your sneaky glances at the man beside you were definitely nosy. It always made your insides flutter to find that edging of green jealousy in his aura. You made sure, in those moments, to shift a little closer or brush your elbow with his.

He seemed reluctant to initiate any public affections, but considering the kiss--kisses now, you suppose--and lack of having really placed a name on the relationship, you didn't want to rush it. In fact, you were quite content to just.. exist. Quiet moments like that at the cemetery and this little jaunt were rare, and you were sure that whatever Shigaraki had planned ahead would leave you wistful for these sacred hours of peace.

Don't ruin a good thing while you have it.

----

"Dabi, there's something I need to tell you."

You had no idea what kind of panic the simple sentence caused him.

Things had indeed turned bleak, just as you had expected. Now, the two of you sat high up overlooking battle-beaten sky-scrapers and damaged complexes. It'd been a blur--the three of you suddenly being called into action, as the League's mettle was once again tested.

Endeavor had been there.

"Yeah, what?"

There's venom in Dabi's voice, but it's half-hearted. His voice is ragged, and you can smell the taint of burnt flesh from where you sat beside him.

You couldn't hear what they were saying. The chaos was too loud.

You ran. You didn't know what it was you were running to do--you couldn't fight a pro-hero. You could barely fight at all. It made no sense! You knew that getting involved would make it worse, yet something within begged you to move. To stop him.

Stop who?

Your mind blanched at that.

Dabi stood several feet away from a pro-hero, Endeavor--Japan's Number Two Hero. There'd never been such a threat to his life in your presence. Most days, that raven-haired man seemed invincible. Unconcerned about death, even; like the reaper wouldn't dare to touch him until his work was done.

But now, all you could fathom was how you weren't ready to lose him. How you didn't know him, but you knew you loved him.

You couldn't get close enough, however, as Dabi sent out a spiral of azure flame that encased him and his adversary. Within inches of it, you lurch to a stop--the heat wave sending your mind rushing back to the visions within your dreams.

You were vibrating again. All over. You could hear the boy's voice in your head, you could feel the anger and resentment and sadness. It was like an overwhelming bass at a club, and it threatened to explode from the chasm of your chest.

"Dabi!" You scream, but the sound is blanketed by roaring fire. "Shit.."

Just when you thought  your body might split in two from the intense vibration, you feel something intrude your mouth from the back of your throat. It's gross, but familiar--and then your vision is blackened by One for All's teleportation quirk.

Dabi's first instinct was to assume you were going to say something negative. It didn't matter what it was, really; anything could tip the scale for him at that moment. He'd been so close to his father--so close to ruining him--but also too far.

He knew it would have been a losing battle, but the disappointment still pisses him off.

Instead of seeking you, he had withdrawn. Once teleported to relative safety, he'd simply existed in your presence. You didn't know, still, who he was or what that conflict meant for him. And for once.. he almost wishes he had told you.

Then he wouldn't have to fear whatever it was you were about to say. How you regretted your decisions, or how you wanted to leave, or...

"I've... had some dreams recently." There hadn't been time for you to rehearse this, but it was happening now. You weren't going another minute without telling him, without at least some form of closure.

"Dreams?"

"Well, they're more than dreams. I think." You shift, marginally closer to him. The altitude caused a bit of wind to buffet through his and your hair. "I think they're visions. Something to do with my quirk, but I haven't been able to figure out how."

A weird thing to admit now, he thinks. His eyes dance over your face and shoulders, eyebrows slightly taught. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I was afraid."

"Why?"

"Because the visions are about you."

About him? "What do you mean?"

"I keep.. I go into it feeling.." You sigh, a little frustrated. "It's hard to explain. It starts with feeling as though I'm burning alive. It's all blue fire, I'm in these woods.. someone's supposed to be there, but they didn't come."

His breath catches. Hell, his whole body feels iced over.

Sure, you had a habit of surprising him with your quirk. You could see, speak, and manipulate ghosts of all things. But to see... his past? To experience his past? Did you fabricate this somehow?

You're too embarrassed to really notice his reaction, your head tilted away against your arm. "Obviously, I don't know. It could be nothing. But it's happened three times now and when you were fighting with.. It's like I was having the vision all over again."

You weren't fabricating it.

His chest heaves once, breathing out the air he'd held within. There's no use in hiding it now. Nor would questioning you or your abilities help anything--no one knew. And he didn't care. He didn't care how it worked or what it meant.

"He's my father."

"What?"

"Endeavor. Enji Todoroki." He says the name with wavering vocals, disgust tied to the way he pushes the words through his teeth. "My real name.. is Touya Todoroki."

With the fire-related quirks, that had been one of your guesses; and perhaps why mentioning Endeavor felt so weird around him.

"That fire happened when I was a kid. I wanted to show him how well I had developed my quirk." There's a flex in his face much like a snarl, his lip curling against the restraint of the staples in his cheek. "But of course, he didn't come. He had his new prodigy and I was.. obsolete."

Your hand reaches out then, touching his arm. His first instinct is to bat it away--to push off your sympathies and remind you he isn't weak. But you knew that. And your expression, he realizes upon glancing at your face, is more that of encouragement.

"Please tell me." You say, fingers tightening on that part of his sleeve.

"I want to know you."

[beingatoaster]

When I was young (like, up until about ten or twelve) I believed that everyone but me was psychic, they read each other's minds by making eye contact, and no one had told me because they felt bad for me. Eye contact felt so bad because I was getting one-way mindread and couldn't do it back (which was only more incentive to avoid it). This was why people could look at my face and sometimes tell things about me that I hadn't said out loud, and they got frustrated when they couldn't because it was normal for them. A lot of books I read around that age had "saw [emotion] in their eyes" as a commonly-used phrase, which bolstered this theory.

When I was, I think, twelve, one of the most trusted adults in my life, who never softened things out of pity or kindness, told me that she could never tell if I was sad or happy because I didn't make expressions, and that it bothered her a lot. I considered the number of books I'd read that also described expressions. I considered that maybe these 'expressions' made more sense than a vast conspiracy to hide everyone else's psychic powers from me to keep me from feeling bad. I found some science articles about 'how we interpret facial expressions' and studied them, copying the pictures, until I could make them on cue, and some even became automated as I, I don't know, activated the pathways? I'm not a neuroscientist. I automatically smile when I'm happy now more often than not, and that does matter.

(I could never get 'anger' right. I still can't get anger right. I have gone through life hearing variants of 'you never get angry' and the even worse 'you're not really angry' because the signals won't send, even when I'm boiling with rage. It's very frustrating.)

As a side-effect I learned how to read other people's faces, at least to some extent. I'm still not great at it, but parsing expressions and body language is an ongoing project of mine. At least I no longer feel like I have to be psychic to understand other people; even when I can't read the metadata, I understand that it's there.

Anyway I never didn't know I was autistic because my mom always said "she's high-functioning autistic" to explain me to people when I embarrassed her, but actually starting to understand what that meant in my early twenties made me feel a lot better about myself. I'm not diagnosed because Mom fears psychiatrists and their ilk and I haven't ever had the combo of energy, motivation, and resources as an adult, but I am pretty comfortable with my mom-dx/self-dx, given the above. I can check off every criteria on multiple "autism in girls" checklists for my younger self. It all tracks! And it's nice to know I'm not just unbearably weird without cause.

[a-pervy-nerdy]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 10

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

A/N:

I hope you guys like this chapter! If you wanna support me further and hang out, check out my Patreon for more of my content and my discord!

Word count: 1,818

Warnings: Minor violence

Chapter 9 Chapter 11

Loud announcement after loud announcement blasted from the speakers as the police spoke. Repeating the same few sentences over and over again. His stomach turned as anxiety took hold of him. Izuku Midoriya stood nearly a block away from the scene as he watched. He and Bakugou were given orders to sit on the perimeter and wait in case they were needed. Having experienced The League before, their assistance was helpful. But everyone was hoping it wouldn't be needed. For now, everyone's top priority was you. Bakugou huffed in frustration, folding his arms across his chest as he watched.

"I don't get it. We should just round them up while we still can. If we don't act fast, they'll slip out of our hands again." He growled.

"Arrest isn't our top priority right now. The hostage's safety is. We can't risk any harm coming to her. You know that." Midoriya answered. The blonde scoffed and spoke again after a long pause.

"I still can't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"That he has a daughter. You'd think he would have mentioned something like that by now. After all these years. Especially one with such a strong quirk."

"Yeah...I don't have kids of my own so, I don't know much about that but...It's odd isn't it? That he never mentioned her. Not even to us." Bakugou thought for a moment.

"Maybe it was the mom. Maybe she kept it that way. We don't know much about her."

"No...that doesn't sit right. Her mom seems intense, sure. But that's his daughter. I don't know about you, but if I had a kid like her, I wouldn't be able to stop talking about her. So, it doesn't make sense why someone like him..."

"They were young, right? About our age?"

"That's right."

"Think about it. If you and Ururaka got pregnant right now, what do you think would happen?"

"Thats different, she's a hero too-"

"No. Really. Think about it. If she told you tomorrow you were gonna have a kid, how would you feel?" Midorya thought for a moment.

"Scared, I guess."

"Would you slow down your hero work? After everything you've done, all the work you've put into this. Would you risk it all to be a proper father? And what about her? Would Ururaka be okay putting her life on hold for that kid? I doubt it."

"I see what you're saying. But that still doesn't explain why we're just finding out about her now."

"I'm sure he was just trying to protect her from shit like this happening. It's clear he still cares for her. It was probably his was of keeping her safe. As messed up as that is."

"I studied All Might my entire life. Became his successor and student. And still...I feel like I never really knew him until now."

"Mh."

"You're still my most valuable player. You're staying right here." Shigaraki's voice purred as his grip tightened around your arm. Pulling you closer to him. You felt your blood quickly rush up to your cheeks. The hot feeling coursing through your veins. You heard the loud squeak of a chair shifting across the floor. Your quirk unwittingly being activated. He ignored the sound, his deep red eyes glaring into yours as his scarred brow bone curved over them in a tight scowl. His eyes, so brilliant and full of passion. You were lost in them. Time always seemed to stop when he did this.

"Boss! We gotta get out of here! We can't fight them all!" Spinner shouted, tearing those eyes away from you. How long had he been starring at you? Was he just as lost as you? You were doubtful. If he was lost in anything, it was probably his rage. His grip on you loosened, slowly dropping your arm almost like he was reluctant to.

"The truck. Is the truck ready?"

"Yes, but I doubt we can get out of here without being caught."

"Of course not. That's why we'll need a distraction. Until then we need time. Toga, the phone, quick." She jumped at the command. Grabbing a smartphone of hers and quickly adjusting it to film. Shigaraki's hands quickly found your body again. But they weren't nearly as harsh as last time, just firm. Man handling you to appear threatening. One hand coming around your neck from behind to display his fingers, and the other around your arm. He pressed you against his body.

"Filming!" Toga shouted.

"You heroes should know better than to just barge into such a delicate situation. The conditions are simple. Make one wrong move, and the girl is dust. I'll even leave her in a pretty little urn for you, hehehe, All Might."

"Cut! Edit and send to the heroes right?"

"And social media, anything to get it on the news. Dabi, Twice, is there a way for you to contact our friends on the outside?"

"But boss! They have us tapped! They'll be prepare for our escape!" Twice shouted.

"They've planned for it already. We've lost the element of surprise. We need results."

"Shigaraki?" You croaked.

"What!?" He shouted in your ear. You winced, holding your free had up to tap at his wrist around your neck.

"Could you, loosen up a bit?" He swiftly pulled his hands away from you. Watching you gently cough and regain your breath.

"We're not, really going to kill her, are we?" Toga pulled her attention away from her phone and shuffled closer to you. Turning to be in-between you and Shigaraki, almost to protect you from being grabbed again.

"No. Not if we plan to get out of here." He and turned sat down on the couch, his hands coming up to rub against his sore neck. Toga patted your back.

"You alright there? You're burning up. You're not sick are you?"

"No...No Im fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, Toga." It made her smile to hear you say that.

"Don't worry. Tomura's smart. He'll get us out safe, you'll see." You smiled back at her.

"I'm sure. But somehow I doubt I'll see you again. So, if this is goodbye-"

"Don't say that!" Toga shouted. "We're gonna stick together. Remember? I promised you I wouldn't let anyone hurt you!" You starred at her with wide eyes as your heart raced in your chest. A loud flutter.

"But, Toga."

"But nothing, friends stick together, right?" You nodded. "Then that settles it! We're taking her with us, aren't we guys?" Confused faces looked up at the two of you. "Well?"

"Uh- Sure." Spinner shrugged.

"Hell No - Alright!" Twice shouted.

"Heh, alright." Dabi chuckled.

"Tomura?" Toga called the absent-minded man.

"Huh?"

"We're taking her with us, right? She's one of us now!" Toga reached for your hand and curled her fingers between yours. Shigaraki looked up at her, his eyes lost in thought. "Tomura!" She scolded him like a little sister. He blinked a few times, shaking his attention to you.

"Are you, Y/L/N? Are you one of us?" You froze for a moment. No. Of course not. You're not a villain. You're not like these people! You're a heroes' kid! You're not evil! You're a good person!

You opened your mouth to speak, an overwhelming cacophony of thoughts keeping you from answering. For the first time in your entire life, you had been cared for in a way you never had before. No longer reliant on a bottle of pills to function properly. No longer forced to be productive. No pressure to be anything special. You could grow here. You could be yourself here. The room buzzed with energy at the activation of your quirk. Your emotional state boiling to a head, you opened your mouth to answer but before you could speak-

The building began to shake underneath you. You were thrown to the floor, eyes darting everywhere in search for the cause. The sound of explosions blasted above you, while what sounded like a bulldozer echoed below.

"Damn it! They're coming from both ends!" Dabi announced, gaining his balance to perform a ready stance before his blue flames emerged.

"C'mon Shigaraki! What do we do!" Twice shouted as he clung onto the man's forearm. The rest of you inching closer and closer to each other.

The blasts above became louder and louder until it became evident it was right above. Your stomach turned as you came to the realization. Before the order left his lips you had reached for a table across the room and brought it up above your small group for protection.

"Y/L/N!" Just in time for it to deflect the shrapnel of drywall that burst from the explosion above. Suddenly the floor below gave way, sending the six of you falling through the open air. There were supposed to be several floor to the building, but thanks to the hero, Deku, flimsy walls of the already rotting building had been quickly demolished within seconds.

You watched yourself fall, your hand desperately reaching for anything to hold on to. Failing and plummeting down with the rest of them. You watched as the DynaMight emerged from the smoke above to watch you with a satisfied grin plastered over his face.

The cries of the others behind you filled your ears. Why wasn't this hero doing something? Why wasn't he jumping to catch you? To catch the others? Is going to let you fall to your deaths? You can't let him do that! Quick- Quick- your quirk- catch them!

After a few attempts at activation in your panic, you were able to catch the others in the air. Just before their bodies hit the concrete of the building basement. Dropping them down from a safe few feet. The fall was uncomfortable, but a relief to you and the others that you could work so quickly.

But your success was short-lived as the building trembled and quaked with another explosion. You looked up just in time to watch what was left of the old hide out to come crashing down around you. Leaving you trapped in the basement, in complete darkness.

"THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" A familiar shriek echoed in Bakugou and Midoriya's ear pieces. They both jolted at the painful intrusion. Your mother, having just stolen a police walky talky huffed on the other end.

"Our apologies ma'am but they're fine. I saw it with my own eyes. They're just trapped under debris. Everything is going according to plan." Midoriya reassured.

"Ac- ACCORDING TO PLAN!? You mean to tell me, young man, that you intended to trap my daughter in with her KIDNAPPERS, WHO THREATENED TO KILL HER!?" She spat, understandably.

"If they wanted her dead by now, she would be. Shigaraki doesn't play games unless it's necessary. Trust me." Bakugou barked.

"So now what? We just wait until this psychopath decays his way loose?"

Taglist:

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff

@witch-o-memes @lolilith

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

food, health, need advice. hi so i'm a caretaker and cooking is a struggle, i know how to cook but sometimes if i'm making something for myself the person i take care of (mom) takes most of my food? and i have executive dysfunction so it can be hard to cook meals for myself. idk how much of this is real but i've heard that a bad quality diet can make mental illness worse? sometimes i don't eat but then when i do eat it's always junk food and caffeinated drinks and i suffer from daily migraines.

Hey anon,

I'm sorry that's happening. Sounds like a frustrating experience. You deserve kindness and to get a good portion of the food you're cooking.

I think it would help to communicate to your mom how you're feeling. If you're willing to make more food and share with her, tell her that. You can also tell her that you are willing to make food for both of you, but you need to know beforehand, so you can make enough, if that's something you're willing to do. Communicating boundaries can be really important when it comes to caregiving. If this is not a possibility right now, I suggest telling her what time you're available to make food and what you'll be making. Then, plate for both of you and ensure you have enough on your plate.

Other, more general tips are to make food that can be eaten as leftovers the next day, or even later that same day. Pasta, casserole dishes, slow-cooker dishes, etc all work well as leftovers. Try to pick recipes that take few steps, such as slow-cooker recipes, oven-baking, etc.

A healthy, well-balanced diet is really important for concentration, brain functioning, critical thinking, as well as physical things such as balance, fine motor skills, energy, and, as you know, migraines. It's hard to cope with mental illness when you're not eating enough of what you need. All food has nutritional value, but some have more variety than others.

Make it a priority to eat. If you don't take care of yourself, you can't take care of someone else to the best of your ability. You deserve to feel energized, healthy, and full. Your body's hunger queues are probably a bit messed up right now, so be patient with yourself as you reset things. Remember that it is always better to eat something than nothing, even if that's fast food, candy, chips, a pb&j, instant noodles, etc.

Keep small snacks available. If you occupy a particular area for most of your day, have a snack basket there. In mine, I've had nuts, juice, water, pretzels, popcorn dried fruit, electrolyte drinks, pudding, rice cakes, peanut butter, fruit, dry cereal, crackers, and pickles. Some of these items need to be replaced or thrown out if not eaten fast enough, so it's okay to omit these ones if you don't think you'll be able to keep things clean.

Don't be afraid to take shortcuts. There's absolutely nothing wrong with a bagged salad, canned food, or pre-cooked meals when you're not up for cooking. When you are able to cook, try to do a little meal-planning and prep things as much as you can. Even chopping veggies can be a big help. They can be used in many different things and eaten raw with dressing. Making a plate of pickles, meat, and cheese can be a great addition so you get a bit of everything. Personally, I like just eating crackers and cream cheese, with pickles if I'm able. Even if you're not cooking a whole meal, you can eat components and still get what you need. Here are 100 no-cook foods.

You'll need carbs, fat, and protein. I think by balancing the cooked meals and these shortcuts, you can get enough nutritionally valuable food in you.

As for migraines specifically, this could definitely be caused by your diet. Make sure you're having enough water, eat foods with magnesium (bananas, seeds/nuts, legumes, spinach, brown rice), and take moments in your day to breathe, rest, and relax. Check in with yourself and just take a few deep, slow breaths, breathing out through your mouth. Lowering your baseline of stress may help your migraines.

Take care.

- Misa

[allsassnoclass]

I'm indecisive and can't help myself but don't feel like you have to write both of them!! How about "I did that annoying thing where I put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you’re getting really mad but you don’t know that the ring is in the smallest box and I can’t wait to see your face” with Lashton? -blackbutterfliescal💛

@blackbutterfliescal heck yeah a lashton proposal! alright let’s do this

Ficmas Day 5

Rating: teen and up

Read on AO3

On Christmas, Luke wakes before Ashton.  Typically Ashton is out of bed before he is, preparing coffee and occasionally breakfast, so Luke savors these quiet moments with both of them comfortable here together, Ashton peacefully still.  The air around them is cold, but under the covers it’s warm, body heat trapped in a cocoon made from the comforter.  Luke shifts, sliding closer to Ashton so they’re pressed together again after separating during the night, and sighs contentedly.  His pajama pants twist uncomfortably, but he manages to put things to rights without elbowing Ashton awake or having to ruin their warm little bubble.

Luke lets Ashton’s steady breathing lull him back to sleep, easily slipping into unconsciousness again.  When he wakes for the second time, Ashton is shifting, preparing to leave.  With Ashton, once he wakes up he can’t drift back off.  It’s why Luke is more often than not the last one in bed in the morning, but today he’s determined to get a few minutes enjoying the morning together in the bedroom.

“Hey,” Ashton chuckles softly when Luke wraps an arm around him to keep him in place, burying his face against his shoulder.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbles.

“Are you going to let me go?” Ashton asks.  “I can start coffee and cinnamon rolls, then we can do presents.”

Luke shakes his head.

“You want to stay here all day?”

Luke nods.

Ashton shifts until they’re facing each other.  Luke squints at him.

He hates waking up in the morning.  Once he’s up and moving it’s fine, but the transition from sleep to functional human being is one he makes while kicking and screaming.  It’s easier when Ashton is there to drag him along.

Ashton leans forward and kisses his nose.  Luke scrunches it, and Ashton relents to give him a quick kiss on the lips instead.  Luke presses forward, extending the moment as long as he can until Ashton leans back.

“Are you going to make me drag you out of bed, or can you find the way to the living room by yourself?” he asks.  Luke pouts, but in the end the promise of Christmas morning with Ashton has him relenting.  Ashton stops in the bathroom and Luke commandeers the comforter, draping it over his shoulders like a cape and padding to the kitchen.  Petunia appears, trotting at his heels, and he ensures her food and water is full before turning on the coffee.  When Ashton joins him, he breaks open a can of premade cinnamon rolls and puts them on a baking sheet, ready to be popped in the oven.

“You look cozy,” Ashton says.  Luke opens his blanket-cape enough to let him in, wrapping himself around Ashton like a koala with very little intention of letting him go.  It makes moving to the living room more difficult, so they stand in the kitchen until Luke feels marginally more awake.

There are two stockings on the mantle, each filled with candy and knicknacks.  Petunia has her own stocking with rawhide bones and toys sitting on her favorite chair, and Luke rips through the packaging on a bone and gives it to her, content to have her dooling happily all over the couch while he and Ashton sort through their own gifts.  All of Ashton’s presents are either precisely wrapped and adorned with a bow or simple newspaper taped together with masking tape.  He oscillates wildly between needing things to look good and not caring about presentation, whereas Luke at least made an effort with all of his wrapping, although his corners aren’t as crisp and there are a few times where he started using a sheet that was too small and had to tape overlapping panels.

There’s one gift at the back of the tree that Luke has been trying not to fixate on.  Ashton has set himself up closest to the tree, appointing himself as the person handing out the presents, and Luke’s thankful that he hasn’t reached for it yet, distracted by everything closer within reach.  Between snacking on the cinnamon rolls and drinking coffee they open kitchen supplies, clothing items, books, vinyl records, personalized drumsticks, guitar picks, necklaces, and a weird ceramic rooster that Ashton hadn’t been able to stop laughing at when they were exploring an antique shop together.

He threatens to put it in their bedroom.  Luke suggests they find a way to sneak it into Calum and Michael’s house instead, and Ashton’s eyes light up.

Eventually, however, there are no other presents left.  Ashton reaches for the box, causing Luke’s stomach to clench violently.

“It’s light,” Ashton says when he picks it up.  It’s big, something that Petunia could easily fit in with room to spare, and the wrapping on the outside is red with mistletoe boughs on it.  Luke had been careful with this one, ensuring crisp folds and not overusing the tape.  Ashton comments on it as he opens, but once the cardboard has been revealed and he sees the contents inside, he frowns.

“It’s another box,” he says, taking it out, silver wrapping paper glinting in the light.  Luke hums, because obviously he knows what’s in the present, and Ashton narrows his eyes.

“Are there going to be more boxes?” he asks.

“Why don’t you open this one and find out?”

Ashton surveys him for a moment longer.  Luke hopes he doesn’t appear as nervous as he really is, guts swirling in a hurricane of anxiety and anticipation.

This box houses another one the size of a shoe box and wrapped in green stripes.  Luke outsourced to Michael and Calum for more wrapping paper, wanting each layer to be different.

“Luke, how many fucking boxes are there?” Ashton asks.

“Um,” he says.

The next box has snowmen on it.  The next, little Christmas trees.  Ashton frowns deeper with each one, frustration apparent in how aggressively he tears at the paper.

“Luke,” Ashton says, holding that box up.  “If there is another box in here, I’m breaking up with you.”

Luke bites his lip.

The last box has no wrapping, only a black velvet frame.  Luke watches him freeze, then take it gingerly in his hands.  Luke clears his throat.

“I, uh, don’t want you to break up with me?”

“Okay,” Ashton says slowly.  “I won’t.”

“Can you give it to me?”

Luke untangles his upper body from the comforter, taking the offered box.  Ashton stares at him, waiting for an explanation, no doubt, but Luke finds that all of his words have dried up.

“I had a speech,” he says.

“I’m sure it’s good,” Ashton says.

“I can’t remember it.”

“Okay,” Ashton says.

“But I love you.  That was the most important piece,” Luke says.

“I love you, too.”  Ashton smiles at him, something comfortable and familiar.  It’s a small form of encouragement that he’s been giving him since they met, a smile boosting him before each performance, interview, and every difficult task in between.  He’s a safety net that Luke can always fall back on.

“I want to see you smile like that for the rest of our lives,” Luke says.  “I want to spend my life with you.  I want to marry you.”

He opens the box, gold ring standing stark against the black it’s resting in.  He flips it around so Ashton can see.

“Will you marry me?” he asks.

“Luke,” Ashton says, shuffling forward until he’s kneeling right in front of him, hands resting on his thighs. “Baby, of course I’ll marry you.  I love you more than anything else in the world.”

“Even when I wrap the ring inside lots of other boxes and make you open all of them?”

Ashton laughs.

“Yeah, even then.  Especially then if it ends with us engaged.”

Luke leans forward and kisses him.  Ashton’s hands come up to frame his face, cradling him gently until they’re both smiling too much to continue.

“I think you owe me a ring,” he whispers when they part.

Luke fumbles with the box, finally getting the ring out and taking Ashton’s hand.  It fits perfectly, a simple thing that will blend in with any other rings he wears but that carries more meaning.  Ashton admires it, then turns his gaze back to Luke.

“Thank you,” he says.  “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh, that was part of my speech!” Luke says.  “I was going to say that being with you is a never-ending present that I’m grateful to unwrap every day.”

“Will you tell me the rest of the speech if you remember?” Ashton asks.

“Of course,” Luke says.  “I have it written down in one of my journals.”

He starts to get up, but this time Ashton is the one to stop him from rising, blocking his path from the couch.

“It can wait,” Ashton says.  “Right now I just want to enjoy the moment.  Let me into your blanket fort?”

Luke untangles his legs from the comforter, letting Ashton into his bubble once again.  Ashton fits himself against Luke with practiced ease, both of them perfectly suited to each other.

“Luke Hemmings, you are a gift to the world,” Ashton says.  “Thank you for choosing me to spend the rest of your life with.”

“There’s no one else I would want.”

Ashton’s ring is cold when he cups Luke’s jaw, bringing their lips together again.  Ashton may be the one who got the ring, but Luke thinks he got the best present this year.