#i need to write all of them down or else i WILL forget

[spacemothes]

hnnnngggg i have.. to finish secret santa drawings

i have to stay focused.. but

hnrbfhjiewjk

I want to write isafrin mermaid au

or write a fic where sif is obsessed with photography

or mayhaps

write a sif as spiderman fic

hnnnnnnnggggggg

torture

this is

hell

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Me, Us, and You

Synopsis: You've been used one too many times, and find comfort in the arms of those you love.

Foul Legacy x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Warnings: Mentions of being used as an emotional outlet

~ * ~

“Hey… why do people like using me?” Foul Legacy looks up from the chunk of crystal he was batting around, tilting his head curiously. You catch his gaze, inquisitive and concerned, and sigh. “…Sorry. It’s nothing.” He frowns with a quiet trill. Not good- he’s seen this habit before, your way of pushing down your emotions, never speaking a word. Legacy shakes out his fur, rising to his feet and crossing the room before plopping down beside you, chittering in worry. His claws knead against the carpet, nudging and pushing up against you gingerly until you finally huff out a laugh and weakly shove him back. “…You get what I mean." He does. Far too well. He’s seen it happen, from behind a corner as Childe; idly twirling a coin between his fingers, walking up to meet you at your favorite restaurant, or merely happening to pass by on the street.

One, two, three. Then more. The number of times that you’ve been treated as a mere outlet. You’re too kind for your own good, too patient, too understanding. Why can’t you get angry? Why don’t you tell off the people who start using you as an object to vent their emotions to- or at least tell them no? Instead you just smile and nod, offer your advice even when you don’t know what to say since you don’t even know your own feelings and what they mean, but you try so, so hard to lift them up, help them feel strong, better, braver. And they do. They smile again, nod, laugh. Sometimes they take your advice, sometimes they just want someone to agree with them. Whatever the case, they leave lighter, and you leave with a new burden in your arms. It’s fine. You don’t mind carrying it for them, as long as they’re happier- you insist that it makes you happy if they are, too. But inside it still hurts, knowing you only exist when someone needs you to listen. When you need to fulfil a certain role or do something for someone.

They started getting used to it, too. Pulling you into conversations as innocently as a lamb only to pour forth a tidal sea of issues and frustration. They cry and rant and yell and scream and then pat you on the back with a smile with a see you soon and talk to you later. One even paused, looking at your tapping fingers, your focused expression, and told you to write things down. So you could remember them for later, if more things came up- we wouldn’t want you to forget, now would we? A pause, a strained smile, as you fished a notebook and pencil from your bag. It made dread coil in your chest, a heavy weight over your heart. That’s right. You only matter as long as you have use.

There’s a croon, and you blink, shaken from your daze. Foul Legacy stares down at you, crystalline eye wide and anguished. No. No, no, no- he hates that you think of yourself like that, as someone, something to be used. He crawls towards you, cupping your face in his claws and letting out a soft, saddened warble. His wings twitch and flutter, curling in your direction as if he wants nothing more than to cuddle you close and shield you from all the dreadful things in the world, because he does, his instincts scratching at his skull and hissing, biting, gnashing the source of your hurt, trying to vanquish it in battle and make it disappear. Protect. Heal. Love.

Legacy squeezes you a bit tighter, pressing your head against his lavender fluff, grown soft with how much you brush and fawn over it. You think he’s beautiful- you’ve told him before, time and time again. Beautiful, lovely, wonderful- why can’t you see how amazing you are, too? How much you help, how much you matter? Even if anyone else can’t see past their own nose, he knows how much you deserve to be showered with gratitude and affection. His gentle nuzzles shift and crackle lightly, turning to soft skin, scarred hands massaging your arms. Childe presses his forehead to yours, his despair on par with Foul Legacy’s, murmuring frantic words of reassurance filled with tears. Nothing, nothing, nothing. That’s all you ever call your feelings, your wants and needs. You’ve spent so long supporting others that you can’t even remember anything you desire, truly, nothing at all. He caresses your cheek, looking deep into your eyes with an oceanic gaze. Please, tell him something you want. Anything. Please. You shudder, and desperately reach your arms to him. Childe meets you halfway, wrapping you in a firm, tight hug and pressing his face against your shoulder.

He wants to give you everything, yet he knows what you need most is someone you can just exist with, not to help, not to complete a task for them, but just to be in their- his- presence. If you listen to his woes, ever, not even the Archons would be able to stop him from listening to yours, because you deserve it. Friendships go both ways, the world seems to have forgotten. Childe was your friend first, and he’s your friend now, and your love, your Harbinger, your sweet, monstrous Foul Legacy, and he adores you with every fiber of his being. Childe peppers kisses over your face, one hand human, the other armored talons, both him and his Abyssal half comforting you. Yes, they get what you mean. They get what you mean all too well, aching and weeping and watching you suffer again and again, wringing yourself dry for people who toss you away once their problems are solved.

But not with them. Never again with Childe and Legacy, forever by your side. You have no tears left to cry, but they still hush you, gently. Shh, shh… it’s alright. Everything will be okay. Childe sighs as he pulls away, tracing your features with a finger and holding back his own sobs, steadying his voice against his resentment towards the world for your treatment. “Talk to me. Talk to us. Please.” For us, we love you so.

[lafortezaboy]

I'd like to request a little bit of angst if you're comfortable writing something like this!

Could I request Sophia, Daniela and/or Manon finding out that reader was in some accident that sent them to the hospital, before or after they go on stage, and then rushing to go see them

of course angel! i chose sophia for this because it felt like a prompt meant for her, but i honestly feel like they'd all react fairly similarly and rush to the reader's side.

triggers / warnings: car accidents, hospitals, mentions of light blood / injury, jokes about the car crash you were just in, a suggestive joke made at the end

there had been only a little bit of annoyance festering inside of sophia, as she scanned the front row and didn't find you. this show wasn't a big one, but between traveling and your own busy schedule, it had been the first you were able to attend. the disappointment of you missing it – of you forgetting, or getting distracted by something else, it caused her to feel alone, unimportant. things you had never made her feel before.

it was only when she was finally off stage that she was able to find out the truth. she and your mom had bonded quickly, especially with her being so far from her own and your mom welcoming her into the family upon meeting her. it wasn't uncommon for your mom to call her, but the multiple missed calls clued sophia in quickly that something was wrong. she read the text your mom had sent her, and the second she read it, she felt the blood in her veins run cold.

hi sweetie, y/n was in a car accident. they asked me to let you know, their phone was damaged in the accident.

the follow up text with the name hospital you were in was all sophia needed to rush out, but the girls saw how quickly her mood had shifted, and manon had been the one to get sophia to calm down long enough to explain. worry immediately filled them all, but they remained as calm as they could for sophia, knowing panicking would only make her panic more. she changed out of her performance attire quickly, and hopped in the car with megan, knowing she'd get her there the fastest. a quick text was sent to your mom, saying that sophia was on her way.

as soon as she stepped into the lobby, she spotted your mom waiting for her. the two of them met halfway, your mom taking her hand and leading her through the hospital to get to your room. as soon as the two of them stepped into your room, sophia felt that annoyance she had felt quickly turn into guilt.

tears welled in her eyes at the sight of you – little cuts and bruises littered across your face, one arm bandaged and in a sling, small specks of blood dotted around your shirt. what caught her eyes the most was the stitches that went across your cheek. noticing her eyes taking in the sight of you, you gave a tired smile, holding your hand out to her. "it's okay, baby."

your words were her breaking point, and almost immediately she was knelt beside your bed, arms wrapping around you as gently as she could, face buried in your neck as she let her tears fall. your uninjured arm wrapped around her, hand coming up to stroke her hair as you let her cry. at the sight of you two, your mom silently stepped out of the room, giving you some privacy as sophia sobbed into your neck.

"i'm so sorry," she spoke in between gasps for breath, and you frowned then, hand stilling in her hair. maybe it was just the fact that your head still hurt, but you couldn't understand what she could be apologizing for. "why, soph? it's not like you're the one who hit me."

she pulled back enough to look at you, but she avoided your eyes, hands picking at a loose thread on her shirt. you noticed it was one of yours, an old band shirt she had to have dug out of your closet, and the sight made you smile. but she was clearly upset, and you didn't focus on that long. gently, your fingers took her chin in them, and you lifted her face up to meet your eyes. "baby, talk to me? what's wrong?"

she let out a shaky breath, but didn't look away completely and you took that as a good sign. "well i . . . when you didn't show up, i thought that . . . that maybe you missed the show on purpose. i was – baby i was upset with you, and you got hurt on the way to my show. if you just stayed home, you wouldn't even be here." it took a second for the words to sink in, but as soon as they did, your hand moved, cupping her cheek as you met her eyes again.

"hey, you didn't know. there's no way you could've known until after you were off stage, you know that," you said, thumb stroking over her cheek gently. her hand came up to cover yours, and after a moment she pulled it down, letting her lips press against the back of your hand. "you don't have anything to be sorry for, you didn't know, and this wasn't your fault. someone would've gotten hit at that stop sign, no matter what. it just happened to be me because i got bad luck. not because my girlfriend forced me to be on the road."

your reassurances helped some, but the guilt was still there, and sophia knew it would be for a while. and you did too, so you tugged on her hand, trying to get her to join you in the bed. immediately she tried to deny you, but you ignored that, tugging again. begrudgingly almost, she sat beside you, and you sat up a little straighter, moving so you could rest your forehead on her shoulder. "whatever blame you're putting on yourself, i forgive you. and i love you, and i feel like i just got hit by a truck, which i did, so i need cuddles. and maybe you in a nurse outfit thrown in there too."

that got a little laugh out of her, and she pulled back to meet your eyes, hand squeezing yours gently. "this bed's way too small for both of us, and i'm not making any promises on the nurse outfit," she said. "but how about we get you home, and i'll give you all the cuddles you want?"

[the-cauldron-witch]

Howdy T'Witch! It makes me so happy that you got your blog all up and designed! Those are big days and I’m happy that it looks so good! Hopefully you think so too!

I say that your writing requests were open and I’d love to pick your brain on some light angst if you’re up for it! No worries if you ain’t because hey understandable. The holidays be crazyyyyyy 🤪

But maybe to something to think about if you’re bored and whatever. But I wanted to ask on how do you think the Bayverse Boys would respond to you (y/n) getting amnesia and forgetting about them completely for whatever reason for how ever long? Do you think they’d try to rejog their memory or try to love them better with the chance of a fresh start? Or something else entirely. I am curious and I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve got the time and energy. Thanks for existing!

Hey Anon! (It’s weird to type this and have you not actually be an anon lmao)

I am very happy I finally have my blog up and running how I like, it finally feels like a little home to me. Thank you for noticing! 🫂🫂🫂

Thank you so much for sending an ask, I’m going to have fun with this one! I’m giving them a happy ending though, cause I can’t write angst and not give my boys a good ending. (Also completely unedited and not proof read lol)

Leonardo

The worry and anxiety he feels in the pit of his stomach like he swallowed a lead weight is one thing, but the chest-clenching heartbreak when you shriek at the sight of him and had no recollection of his existence is another.

He keeps a stoic face once you’ve calmed down and while explaining who he is to you, but really this poor guy is absolutely gutted. It takes so much of him to keep a straight face.

Still a bit of a helicopter, using any subtle opportunity to jog your memory of himself. He’ll make a cup of tea for you in the exact way he did on your first date, subtly comment on your outfit when he recognizes it’s something he bought you, anything he could think of to hopefully remind you.

This man does not sleep the entire time. You aren’t sleeping in his bed, how could he anyway? Once he is sure you are fully asleep, he comes to check on you. Listen to see if you talk in your sleep, mumbling about memories or just in case a nightmare decides to haunt you.

When he can’t check on you or do really anything else, he’s meditating in order to keep his emotions in line. He’s completely destroyed, so meditating for hours on end is the only way he can keep himself in check.

Although he’s snappy, irritable, and driving everyone but you away, what Leo really needs is one of his brothers to ignore the attitude and just stand there and let him get it out. By the time he’s done he’s already apologized a hundred times, he’s just lost and broken hearted.

Out of all his brothers, Raph is probably the one that cracks him and gets him to just spit it out. They all know what’s going on and how much Leo’s hurting from it all, but he still needs to let it out. Raph can handle the attitude with ease, brushing it aside and letting Leo get himself together

After what feels like an eternity, you gain your memory back at the most random of times while you happened to be watching him practice his kata. When you start babbling memories excitedly, he picks you up in a hug and cries into you.

It doesn’t matter if anyone’s watching, he’s crying and just so grateful that you remember who he is. Weeping tears of joy and the bottled anxiety finally burst as he holds you. Bear with this poor guy, it’s been a ride for both of you really.

Raphael

This poor guy is so surprised and in shock when you don’t remember him, he thinks you’re playing some sort of prank on him at first.

“Heh- babe, c’mon…don’t joke around like dat”

Once it hits him that this isn’t a prank or joke, you genuinely do not know who he is, Raph practically shuts down.

The love of his life doesn’t remember who he is, even looks at him like he’s the monster he felt he was before meeting you. It breaks his heart so much he locks himself away for a day or two, unfortunately leaving you more confused.

When you start wanting to be near him- no, needing to be near him, is when he starts coming around. He found you pacing back and forth in front of his bedroom door like a cat waiting to enter a closed off room one night.

You couldn’t explain it, but you have this invisible pull and primal need to be near him somehow. To be close, even touching him. Although you don’t remember why, you just know you need to,

Raph starts coming out of his room and trying to act normal, but when his brothers look him in the face an see how red and raw his eyes are, the dark circles, and the heartbreak in his eyes, they know it’s just an act but wisely choose not to comment.

He catches you staring at him while he’s working out, chuckling as you bashfully try to shy away. He doesn’t tease or joke though, instead encourages you to come watch

“I miss my favorite spotting partner,” Raph admits, hoping that will help jog your memory a little. It doesn’t outright, but you do find yourself already knowing how to spot him.

After a few days of you following Raph around like a lost puppy, your memory finally comes crashing back to you when Raph slipped the boxing gloves on you for practice.

Relief. So much relief it washes over Raph like a tidal wave that nearly knocks him off his feet. He holds you and kisses you, telling you repeatedly how grateful and happy he is you have your memory and you’re here. The tears will come at night while the two of you are in bed for the night, but he holds you and everything is okay.

Donatello

Initiate full on analytical mode. He is immediately going through a thousand different scenarios and cures in his head, he almost forgets that *you forgot* who he was all together, so his babbling did nothing to calm you down.

Even with all his knowledge and abilities, it still doesn’t negate the overwhelming emotions he feels when you don’t recognize him. It hurts, makes it hard for Donnie to even breathe, but he hides it behind his science and research.

Sitting in front of his computer for days on end in between checking up on your, it becomes almost like an obsession for Donnie to get your memory back. At the risk of his own health and wellbeing, he does not stop.

From using scents he knows you enjoy, like that cologne you bought for him as a gift or your favorite body wash, tasting your favorite coffee or the tiramisu Donnie bought for the two of you on a date once.

Let’s put on that movie we watched on that one Valentine’s weekend; you were obsessed with it for weeks!

Oh, what if Donnie took you to that rooftop the two of you saw a comet in the night sky once? It was absolutely beautiful, but wasn’t nearly as beautiful as you, he confided.

Countless hours of research keep Donnie from sleeping, honestly at one point contemplating how he could just straight main-line caffeine into his blood stream to stay awake.

Without warning one night, you come into his lab and demand he sleep. Not ask, not coax, you demand Donnie to get in bad with you and get some sleep. He questions if you’ve finally gotten your memory back, but sadly no. And he’s crushed. But you still demand he lay down in bed with you.

Crawling into bed with you with awkward limbs, Donnie is surprised that you lay down exactly as you always do with him. Even without memory, it was like your body still remembered how you fit together.

Quiet tears fall as Donnie holds onto you, sleep mercifully taking him into a deep slumber. Guilt crawled its way into your stomach while trying to sleep, wishing that your memory would just return so you could stop all of this.

Waking up in the morning, you blinked with shock as you look at Donnie- looked at him like you knew him again. And you did. You had woken up with your memory by some miracle.

Kissing and hugging you with love and relief, Donnie can’t keep his hands off of you or keep the tears from smudging his glasses. It was all so hard to believe while it was happening that now it was over, it felt like the end of a tornado.

The two of you decide to sleep in a little longer, only because Donnie could barely hold his eyes open. Frankly, sleep was probably what you needed too after all this.

Michelangelo

Confused. Downright, no jokes confused. How could you not remember him so suddenly? Time just doesn’t erase like that right?

Mikey asks Donnie a million and one questions, repeating or re-wording them or giving scenarios. It drives his brother mad, but he tries to be lenient because Donnie knows how terrified his younger brother is.

He caters to you in every way; offers to get you a drink, make you something to eat, get you a pillow, it becomes a little overwhelming, but you don’t know how to tell him to stop.

When Mikey tries to kiss you and pull away, it was like you could practically hear the way his heart shatters like glass. But he hides it with a smile and flirts, telling you he won you over once, he could do it again.

This is when he starts to flirt with you like he did before the two of you started dating, but with far more strategy and knowledge. Comments about how sweet you are while making your favorite chocolate pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream

Tells you how amazing you look in that shirt or those pants, mostly because he was the one to buy them.

He’ll give you your favorite kind of gifts; favorite flowers, candy, stuffed animals, anything he can think of giving you and jog your memory. Each time it doesn’t work, he’s crushed a little bit more, but he keeps trying.

Plays movies that you and Mikey watched together, shared music playlists the two of you built together over the period of your relationship, and whatever else he could possibly think of. But it still didn’t work.

When you aren’t anywhere near to see, Mikey with let himself cry for a moment out of frustration and sadness that you don’t remember him. It hurts, but by the time you are near he has a smile back on his face.

He thought you were sleeping one night when you found him crying down one of the sewer tunnels away from the lair. The sight broke your heart, which for some reason jogged your memory. Rushing to hug and kiss him, you damn near scared Mikey out of his shell.

“Angelcakes, you remember!?” Mikey shouts, picking you up and spinning you in a massive hug. Thank the pizza Gods, he had you back!

Taglist

@silverwatergalaxy @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

@yorshie @truffle-reblogs @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @thepinkpanther83

@avery73 @luckycharms1701 @tmnt-tychou @suksiskovaikkakuuseen @milykins @justalotoffanfiction

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

For the totally not official not-blog-event, may I request some happenstance where Dilah and Lilia have to look after the other’s son for some time? (As for whether or not Lilia is disguised, I’ll leave it up to you)

Referencing this post!

I’m going to write some headcanons for this one! ^^

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Most would feel insulted when their dorm leader goes out of their way to find someone to supervise them in their absence—but not Deuce!! He’s stoked to have a wise mentor figure to tutor and guide him. (He needs good role models if he wants to be a good role model himself one day, right?) Deuce just wasn’t expecting Lilia to be picked! (“Everyone else I asked was unavailable,” Riddle sighed. “Now do not burn the roses down while I’m away, is that understood?”)

“Kufufu. You don’t need to be shy or scared around me. I’m just your cute and friendly neighborhood Lilia-chan 🎵” he insists with an angelic smile. Almost immediately, Deuce feels like something�� bad… is about to happen. He brushes that feeling off and happily welcomes Lilia to Heartslabyul (albeit a bit too stiffly and formally)—he has to remain polite with his upperclassmen, after all!

He brings a suitcase full of "the essentials". Lilia proceeds to pull out a bunch of weird-looking ingredients and ancient items. He claims they're all necessary for old wives' remedies--in case Deuce needs them!--as well as extra nutrients for his "world class" cooking that Deuce will get to experience later.

Lilia is a senpai and therefore theoretically a good tutor when Deuce needs help with his homework. And he is, for the most part! Problem is, when it comes to history, Lilia has a tendency to ramble and start telling personal stories. He ends up going so off topic that Deuce forgets what the initial question he had was.

Gets all excited to help his ward train for Track and Field Club. Lilia makes his own obstacle course in the Rose Gardens and drills Deuce in it. Deuce thought it would be a regular track at first, but then he notices the spikes, the lava pit, and the venomous snakes littering the field. "What? But this is the most basic of the basic!" Lilia tells him--so Deuce takes a deep breath, steels himself, and charges through.

Lilia wears a frilly "Kiss the Cook" apron as he cooks up some food! Trey nervously watches him and offers to help, but Lilia turns him down at every corner. As Trey leaves the kitchen, he tries signaling to Deuce to not take a bite. Too bad it goes over his head. One bite, and Deuce is knocked out cold. Lilia unfortunately misinterprets this as his food being so good, it took Deuce straight to heaven!

They bond over music! Lilia blares some of his favorite rock and metal songs for Deuce, who really vibes with how wild and free they are! He even shows Deuce some compositions he put together with the Pop/Light Music Club, demonstrating on his electric guitar (yes, he packed that with him). At one point, Cater joins them for a jam sesh but clocks out quickly--he's not sure how much his ears can take the volume. Riddle shouts at them to "turn it down", but it's hard to hear him over the music!

Lilia tries to help out with the chores by enchanting the brooms and mops to move on their own. Deuce asks him to please teach him. He doesn't want Lilia to do all the work--he wants to learn how to pull off such spectacular magic too! Lilia commends him for being so proactive, and, with a chuckle, sets to showing him the ropes.

Wakes Deuce up the next morning up hanging from his ceiling upside down. He screams, waking up Ace and his two other roomies, which delights Lilia to no end. "Rise and shine," he chirps. "My, you're so energetic, even first thing in the morning!"

Silver’s used to taking care of after himself while his father’s away on long journeys of self/discovery all over Twisted Wonderland. If he ever gets lonely, he has his animal friends and the Zigvolts to turn to. So… how did he somehow end up with a classmate’s mother looking after him? “It’s good to broaden your horizons and to meet new people!” Lilia had told him (right before casually peacing out)

“Put’r there, kid!” Dylla seizes Silver’s hand and gives it a good, vigorous shake. Her energy and strength definitely startles him wide awake (he was starting to drift off)! Silver suddenly realizes where Deuce got it from.

She cooks up omurice for Silver. It's Deuce's favorite, so she figures it would be a crowd pleaser for him as well. Dylla even puts in the effort to pipe on a little ketchup heart on the omelet, just how her son likes it~ Silver's surprised by the cuteness and how... non-lethal the omurice is. When he compliments Dylla, she simply laughs and tells him to eat up, cuz growing boys like him need more protein!

Dylla's impressed by Silver's horde of animal friends! She's used to seeing wild rabbits and birds in Clock Town, but never so many tamed woodland creatures. She tries to clumsily greet them, with Silver serving as the mediary and coaxing the birds to hop on her fingers and head. "No way!" Dylla gasps, giggling at the blue jay nipping at her neck. "Quick--take a picture of this, I need to show Deuce!" (Better that Silver take it anyway, Dylla's not that up to speed on the latest tech.)

She rolls up her sleeves and sets to tidying up Diasomnia! Silver suspects Dylla must be used to doing many things on her own, because she refuses help from him even when she's actively struggling. He silently steps in and takes the heavy armchair from her. "Don't push yourself too hard. If we work together, we can get things done sooner. It's... okay to rely on other sometimes--so please rely on me. Mrs. Spade."

Dylla finds him sleeping on a couch in the lounge. Instead of waking him up, she sighs and slips off her jacket and hat, placing them on Silver to keep him warm as he dreams. "... What am I going to do with you?" she says with a soft smile.

Silver's a good listener. Dylla doesn't mean to, but one thing leads to another and suddenly she's sharing all about her experiences as a single mother and what it's been like raising Deuce. He validates her and expresses empathy, saying that his own father must have similar experiences. "I'm thankful to him for working so hard to provide me with this life. I'm sure Deuce must feel the same way about you."

She tells him off when Silver tries to head out for his usual rounds of night patrol. Dylla turns him right back around and orders him to march off to bed! She worries that he'll be off doing something unsavory--or, Sevens forbid--get caught up in danger, all things her own son has been through.

Oh no! Silver slept in and now he's running late for class. Not to worry though. Dylla pulls up on a bike and tells him to hop on, she'll drive him to school. Silver thanks her and climbs aboard... not knowing that he's in for the wildest, roughest ride of his life. Hey, at least he'll be wide awake when he arrives for first period.

[milolunde]

We all know Timmy is Wanda’s mama’s boy but we need to keep in mind he’s still Cosmo’s kid too and that Cosmo would love him just as vehemently as Wanda

[sfsolstice]

exurb1a, from "Mum" in Poems for the Lost Because I'm Lost Too

[millionsknives]

i want to do a 3rd trigun cowboy piece for yeehawgust this year but i can't decide who 2 draw........... too many to choose from.....

[the-one-who-lambs]

oy vey i am cooking a massive character arc that MIGHT necessitate a couple extra chapters for risen/fallen

[cattaliatayuun]

Real photo of me my WoL upon receiving a copy of Encyclopedia Eorzea vol.1

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Had an ADHD assessment a few years ago and the fuckwit that assessed me said, as a direct quote, "You're too smart to have ADHD." Like that's not any type of paraphrasing, that stupid fucking statement is burned in my brain forever and has been since I heard it.

I talked to my psychiatrist about getting a referral to a different psychologist for assessment, and she agreed and sent it in.

Today I got a call that said they don't agree that I need reassessment, and I'm welcome to pursue it elsewhere, but they won't provide reassessment. Which is just.

I don't even know where to start with that one. I just needed to get it out. I'm so tired.

[violet-jessop]

insane that once a month i lose my mind alongside my uterus' lining

[zipquips]

feeling incredibly unprepared for my med appointment today

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

i need to stop forgetting things exist the fucking second they leave my field of vision. why is is impossible for two things to occupy my mind at once especially when im tired. like. i feel like a sim. i feel like actions are being canceled and i just. move on. and completely forget what i was doing moments before. i fucking hate it

[aeolianblues]

I know a friend who studied broadcast journalism at school. He does a music show like I do, volunteering. Isn't it lovely when media companies can decide that all of a sudden your careers were merely hobbies all along?

[thebibliosphere]

I’ve had an increase in rainbow aura with my migraines lately (I used to get them once a year, if that. Now, I’ve had it twice in one month) so I’ve become somewhat paranoid whenever something flashes over my vision.

Sometimes, it's just light reflecting off my phone, but it still makes me freeze up in a fear response when it happens because it usually means I’ve got about 20 minutes before I’m in agony.

Apparently, this new paranoia extends into my dreams now, too, because I was running down a long corridor, aware that there was something behind me that I needed to escape, but all of a sudden, in my dream, rainbow zigzags consumed my vision, and I stopped, dead and went, “fuck, migraine.”

That's when I became aware of James Bond/Daniel Craig standing beside me, gun drawn.

“Oh, shit. Do you need to lie down?” he asked while I stared at him.

I said, “What about the thing chasing us?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. If you need to lie down you can lie down. I’ll just kill them.”

I blinked at him for a bit, still winded from running then said, “Sure,” starting to get to my knees, ready to lie down on the cold stone floor beneath us.

“Sure?”

“Yeah. Kill ‘em. I’m just gonna...” I gestured vaguely at the floor. “Be right here, I guess.”

“You can go upstairs, you know,” he said, loading a fresh clip into his gun. “This museum has a hotel on top of it.”

“Oh good,” I said, starting to suspect this was a dream and not Daniel Craig about to murder the people chasing me because I had a migraine. “I’ll do that then.”

So I got back up and started climbing the stairs that looked an awful lot like the stairs in the Kelvin Grove Art Gallery, only to abruptly walk into Deathstroke and Nightwing doing their best to kill each other in the corridor of what was clearly a hotel based on the room service tray Nightwing was using to deflect projectiles.

They froze. I looked at them. They looked at me. “I’ve got a migraine,” I said,

“Shit, sorry,” Nightwing said, putting down his tray as both men stepped back to let me walk down the decimated corridor. “We’ll be more quiet.”

“Room 13 is open,” Deathstroke helpfully informed me.

“Is there a body in it?” I asked, now leaning against the wall, less walking along, more sliding.

“Not anymore.”

“Do you need anything?” Nightwing asked, “pain killers? Ice pack?”

I waved them off and made my way into room 13 where David Jason dressed as Detective Jack Frost looked up at me from the book he was reading on the bed.

“This is a dream,” he informed me.

“No it isn’t,” I said, despite knowing it was as I hobbled over to the bed and flopped down beside him. “And this room was supposed to be empty.”

“Open, not empty,” corrected Jack Banon who had taken David Frost’s place, dressed like young Alfie from Pennyworth as he sat beside me on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. “There’s a very distinct difference between the two. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Who do you think moved the body?”

“I need to sleep,” I said, “if I can fall asleep, the migraine might go away.”

“That's all right,” he said. “You do that. I’ll make sure no one else comes in. Oh, just one thing before you do.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something I couldn't quite see and held it out to me. “You’ll need this.”

“What is it?” I said, my brain doing the dream thing where it refuses to read books or interpret numbers correctly. “I can’t see, what is it?”

“Oft, sorry. Can’t tell you that. More than my job’s worth.”

“You’re job...”

“Yeah.” and thats when he leaned over, stuck me with a needle and said, “Night night.”

And I woke up to the sound of @mothman-etd getting into the shower and Holly Mop wiggling under thre covers with me.

First words out of my mouth were, “What the fuck?”

And then I immediately pulled up Tumblr to write this down before I forget it because what the fuck.

Didn't wake up with a migraine though so... *knock on wood*