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thepalaceofmelanie · 11 months ago

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Martell Week: Character of the Day: Elia Martell

Tag list: @adriennegabriella @morby @wingsoftheangels @candycanes19 @tashastrange89 @elvinaa

(A/N: Going an AU route with this one. As someone who like Elia has, chronic illness; I wanted to write something on this. I’m not planning on having this as a self-insert but I’m basing certain things off my issues. Character won’t be named or described.)

TW: Medical talk, wanting to give up (not the hard S, you two are just tired.), mention of cheating and death.

Song inspired: “Aerith’s Theme” from Final Fantasy VII

Character of the Day: Elia Martell

“Elia, how are you?” I asked.

It was shockingly a good energy day for us both. We found ourselves at a Tim Hortons having something to drink. The smell of the mocha ice capp filled my noise, made sure to have extra chocolate in it.

“Hey you, I’m okay today. How about yourself?” She asked in returned.

The weather was warm, so at least our anemia won’t start making it cold for us. Elia took a sip of her iced tea and I could see she was trying to smile through a storm in her body. Both of us born premature, but our conditions differ a lot.

“To be honest, I’m just tired of it all. I don’t want to die, but I just want to sleep till they make a cure for everything. I can’t regulate my thyroid; I’ve only done it once… so now the Endo, thinks I have not just Hashi’s, not just hypo, but also hyper! Honestly, between the medication, the blood work, the side effects, and everything, I just…”

“I understand, and then when they tell you “it’s going to be okay.” a part of you feels like they’re lying. They don’t understand what people like me and, you go through every second of our lives. Then again, we don’t understand either. So, the point is moot.”

Elia, she must have had a rough morning though with the kids; she didn’t even braid her hair like she normally would.

“How’s Rhaenys and Aegon? I’m guessing their Father is watching them?”

Meaning Rhaegar, I don’t like using his name or talking about him. I mean he cheated on Elia, how does someone forgive that?

“Yes, he is. It’s his day to have the children anyways. So I guess it works out for me.” She semi-chuckled.

“Your heart?” I asked.

Elia’s eyes tried to give some spark of hope; I knew it was bad news.

“They still don’t know what’s going on. They tried an echo-cardiogram but they found nothing. I nearly dropped to the floor twice yesterday.”

Yikes!

They really need to find out what’s causing this and soon. I’m worried she’s going to hit her head and those children won’t have their Mom around. I feel her take my hand in hers, I could see her trying to hold back tears.

She’s scared.

I don’t blame her one bit.

“All I feel that I can do is say that “I’m sorry” but honestly, we both got to be fed up hearing that phrase. I don’t know what I can do for you to be okay as best as you can feel.”

“Just still be my friend. Knowing I’m not alone, helps at times.”

I nodded, if that’s what it takes, I can try. She knows we can’t make promises; some of us just can’t keep them. If we do, nine-times out of ten, we have to cancel last second. For us just to meet together today was a big thing.

We both drink our drinks in silence.

Moments past, the sounds of the shop filled our ears; the smell of the cafe woke people up and the two of us were thinking of what to say next.

Both of us probably already wanting to go back to sleep.

“What was your panel?” She asked.

“My T4 was normal, it’s the TSH was high. About 36.88.”

“How do you feel though?”

“Believe it or not, I’m fine. I feel “normal” I suppose. I’m not tired or losing hair any different or whatever else. I just been having a hard time eating and honestly taking the meds at times.”

“Please tell me you didn’t cause this.”

“Why my thyroid is effed? I can’t tell you anymore, I don’t know. I’m more worried about my mental health half the time.”

Elia squeezed my hand lightly, trying to get me to smile. I can’t smile at this, the fact that my body is ill like this and I’m not sure if I’m at fault or not, really does suck.

“Yours?” I asked.

“It’s a little under but I hope the new dosage helps.” She smiled.

“Yeah, for sure, you need your energy basically watching over the children. At least Oberyn and Doran are helping as well. They’re both good men.”

“I do love my brothers, Oberyn though is my favorite; out of all my family, he supports me the most.”

I felt a pang of envy in my heart, her family loves and cares about her. My Father...not so much at times. It took him years to believe in my depression and anxiety. Elia could tell something was wrong, her facal expression showed it.

Sorrow…

“I’m fine, I’m honestly happy for you. It just sucks that not everyone’s accepting like Oberyn and Doran are.”

“I agree with you; just because your Father doesn’t see your illnesses doesn’t mean it’s not there. It’s real just like us, it exists like us, but it haunts us.”

We both pause, feeling like time stopped. We both finished our drinks and tossed them into the trash, before sitting back down.

“Will you be alright?” Her voice cut gently.

“I will be, I’m just used to it by now. I’ve had certain issues from a young age and the thyroid didn’t get put on paper till a few weeks before my fifteenth birthday. Picture this, you get home from a wonderful vacation with your Father; you go into the doctors and they tell you, you have this issue and basically you’re stuck on meds forever, it messes with everything in your system. Seriously, this sucks, but I’m just so used to it by now; what people say to me doesn’t even phase me anymore.”

Elia didn’t say anything. I could tell she was taking in what I had said.

“But you’re here, you’re dealing with it.”

“So are you.”

She’s right…

We are.

“Your hopes and dreams matter, of course I could go into the whole “Life gets better” and such, but we don’t always want to hear it. That’s fine...do you remember how I asked if we could both do this thing? That list about reasons to keep going.”

“Yeah, I wrote mine on my phone.”

I take my phone out and go to note pad. I noticed she took out her notebook and sat it in front of her. She asked me to list at least three things before we met next, I guess we were both able to do it.

“Okay we’ll trade off. I’ll go first. First reason to keep going is to love my children and be a good Mother.”

“That’s a real sweet one. Okay first reason to keep going, to find a partner.”

I blushed, but I’m lonely. It didn’t matter if it was platonic or romantic at this part; but I knew that would be years later. I have to work on myself first.

“Second reason is to support my brothers when they’re dealing with something.”

“Elia, c’mon, you could have had the first one just be “family” and called it a day!”

The two of us laughed; she knew I had a point, but we both did need the laugh. I’m thankful for her friendship. Elia was always that person who would pour her heart and soul into life; she truly loved her family.

Damn you, Rhaegar, you fuck up.

“Reason two, to kick the ever living crap out of Rhaegar. Listen, if he wasn’t happy, he should have just told you and do something about it. That’s not right what he pulled; did he even ask for an open marriage or whatever before you found out?”

There’s nothing wrong with polyamory, open marriages, ect, but for the love of the gods!

“No, he didn’t. To say the least Oberyn and Doran want to throw hands,” Elia laughed. “Okay, seriously, last reason. To actually have a good life.”

Honestly, that was a reasonable thing. It would be hard but you know, sometimes we don’t know what life has planned for us. I just hope she doesn’t see her last sunrise before achieving this. With being chronically ill, it’s like our bodies are time bombs, depending on what’s going on with the person. With my thyroid issue, my thyroid is slowly dying because the white blood cells are attacking it.

“Yours?”

Oh right…

“To see my favorite band in concert for the third time.”

I could see her smile at that; to her it was a good one. The rest of the time, we talked; we talked about old memories, we cried, laugh and just tried to live for the moment. But little did I know was…

This would be the last time I’d see Elia.

#martell week #Elia Martell #AU #angst #wanted a happy ending but its bittersweet

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razorsadness · 6 months ago

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The end of April/first half of May was a really bad time. First L., the octogenarian gay man who is a neighbor of mine, whom I help out sometimes and like to visit with, was in the hospital. One of our other neighbors (who also helps him out) notified me, so that I could grab his mail when they couldn’t do it. Fortunately, he’s since come home and he’s doing okay, but I was so worried.

During the time he was in the hospital, D. (my 12 y.o.) was having some health issues (side effects from his meds), so I was calling around to/taking him to various doctor’s appointments and pharmacies to try and get that figured out.

And if that wasn’t enough, at the very end of April my mom had a big health emergency and had to go to the emergency room. And after that she had to go in every other day for more tests and whatnot, so I had to help a lot with my parents’ dog, and cleaning, and etc. Which of course I don’t resent having to do, but it was a lot on top of everything else. Not to mention, there was a period of a week or so when we didn’t fully know what was going on and thought she might be imminently dying and I couldn’t stop crying and yes, I have a complex relationship with my mom that is not always the healthiest, but I do love her, and want her to stick around for a good long while.

Because of all of the above, I had to cancel a bunch of plans for things I had really wanted to do, and it bummed me the fuck out. Again, it’s not that I resent having a responsibility to the other people in my life, but I was just fucking sad. Not to mention that everything I canceled was the fun and interesting stuff, so all that was left in my life for a couple weeks was the shitty stuff. And all work and no play make Jack a dull boy, y’know?

No, I didn’t become a maniacal axe murderer, but I did cry all the time, and the littlest things set me off so my poor partner and kiddos got snapped at a lot. And I couldn't sleep because of everything on my mind, and of course the lack of sleep made me even more stressed and moody. And speaking of axe wounds...I got my period twice in May because of all the stress.

Despite giving up fun things and focusing on responsibilities for a couple of weeks, I still got behind on pretty much everything, art/work-wise. I managed to complete the 30/30, but I failed on the fundraising aspect (I didn't even get halfway to my fundraising goal, and some of what I did make is money I put in). And I didn't finish April's mini-zine for my zine subscribers until May, or May's until almost June, and now it is June and I'm just finally about to send out April and May's zines and the perks for the people who did contribute to the fundraiser. I'm trying not to beat myself up over it, though, because that would just make me stressed again, just when I'm finally chilling out a bit.

In mid-May, we took the kids on a day trip/field trip to Chicago, primarily to visit the Shedd Aquarium. It was a great day; filled, of course, with nostalgia. We took Amtrak, so of course I had all of the train feelings. Every train song I know (and I know a lot) got stuck in my head. When I saw the southbound train approaching the Sturtevant station, I started singing "Mystery Train." Train, train, comin' 'round, 'round the bend... On the train down, I saw two egrets in the wetlands of southeast Wisconsin/northeast Illinois. I also overheard a conversation between two women who were talking about their kids. One was talking about her 14 y.o. daughter and said: "I used to be a little worried she was a lesbian, because she was kind of a tomboy, and her best friend is a lesbian. But then she started wearing dresses and makeup so I know she can't be a lesbian!" And I was just thinking: oh, oh honey, do you not know that femmes exist? At Union Station, I saw a few older skinheads hanging out in the Great Hall, and as I got closer to them I realized—holy shit, I know a couple of them. Not like, super well, but they were guys that ran in some of the same circles I did circa oh, 1998-2004. One of them smiled at me and gave me a nod. I'm not sure if he recognized me, too, or if he could just tell I had similar subcultural roots. I thought I looked pretty normie that day, but I find that no matter what I'm wearing, fellow queers and people with similar subcultural backgrounds can usually recognize that I'm one of them. (By the same token, I've had bigots clock me as an LGBTQ or just a freak even when I think I look pretty normie.)

As always when I'm in that part of Chicago, I got my own poem ("Way Down Here on Canal Street") stuck in my head. Way down here on Canal Street / the bike messengers stare you down / and businessmen brush right past you / in their rush to get out of town...

The Shedd Aquarium was awesome; the kiddos loved it, and I loved it, too—I hadn't been there in about 27 years, so it was like a brand-new experience. There were so many queer babes working there, which was nice, of course. The weirdest thing that happened is that I saw an ex-something-or-other of mine; he was there with his wife, just as I was there with my husband and kiddos. He saw me, too; we both went wide-eyed like we'd seen a ghost, and it was sorta like that, considering we hadn't seen or spoken to one another in like twenty years. We both pointedly avoided saying hello to each other, though, and honestly, thank god. I call him an ex-something-or-other because we never actually dated; we had a very ill-advised fling and it kinda ruined both our lives for a bit.

It's funny, though not entirely surprising, that I ran into not one but three people from my past. Chicago is a massive fucking city, yet every time I am down there, I run into at least one person I (used to) know. And it makes more sense if it's in the context of a zine fest or a punk show, or even at an old haunt like Delilah's, but at the aquarium and the train station? (Insert Tom Waits in that one interview, saying: Everybody knows me...at the dump.)

After leaving the aquarium, we wandered around the Museum Campus/Grant Park/Northerly Island for a while, and I took a bunch of photos. I saw Navy Pier sticking out into the lake and got that same old poem of mine stuck in my head. Above the Ferris wheel on Navy Pier / the golden light is fadin'... We sat at an outdoor table, got harassed by red-winged blackbirds. I saw ghosts (legitimate ghosts, not just people from my past) darting around out of the corners of my eyes. I told my kids about the time I went swing dancing at the Field Museum after dark.

Then we headed to Printer's Row and had some really good Japanese food, before heading back to the train station to catch our train home. As our Uber driver neared the station, we went by a wall that had once had some graffiti on it. It had been painted over, but you could still see traces of the graffiti beneath the paint. The light hit just right for me to read what had been written there before they painted over it: Sweet Home Chicago. And yes, oh yes; I thought, once again, of that Lucy Sante quote about New York I think of every time I'm in Chicago: ...I was changed forever by it, my imagination is manacled to it, and I wear its mark the way you wear a scar. We had just enough time for the kids to have a snack and P. and I to have a beer in the station food court/bar before catching the Hiawatha north. On the train home, I watched the city fall away from me, water towers and loft apartments fading into the gloaming, and I felt happysad, the way I always do when I've been in Chicago and have to leave again.

Back at the train station in Sturtevant, C. and I spotted the first cricket of the year, and in the car on the way home, the DJ on my favorite radio station played Sufjan Stevens's "Casimir Pulaski Day," which, after a day in Chicago, really hit me straight in the gut.

Since then, life has been mostly about catching up on writing and art stuff, while also trying to take it easy on myself. After all the stress of late April and the first part of May, I decided that one of my goals for this spring-into-summer season is to get healthier, both mentally and physically. So I've been drinking less coffee and more tea; less booze and more sparkling water. I've also been cooking delicious, healthy meals, doing yoga regularly, and taking long walks, as well as reading a lot of books and watching the new season of Doctor Who + a bunch of filmed plays.

Two Saturdays ago (i.e., not just this past Saturday, but the one before), I had an adventure day with C. (6 y.o.). It was the nicest day we'd had in a while, after days of rain, so he really wanted to do some outdoor exploring. D. didn't want to go, and P.'s back was hurting, so we decided P. would stay home with D. and C. and I would go out. At first I was a little annoyed, thinking it would be a waste of my time to do that when I could be home doing writing work, but then I was like: "Damn, that's the must-be-productive-24/7 capitalism mindset talking. How could spending time with my kiddo and going out exploring in nature ever be a waste of time?!" So I packed a picnic lunch and off we went.

We went to two places where I have so many memories from the past, oh, 25 years—Petrifying Springs Park, and the beach near Carthage College. I like taking my family to places (like Chicago, like Petrifying Springs) where I've spent a lot of time; it's nice to create new memories that involve all of us, so I'm not just nostalgic for ye olde days when thinking of those places. (Not that I won't still be nostalgic for ye olde days; what I mean is creating new memories with beloved people in beloved places makes it so that I'm not just nostalgic for a long-ago time.)

We started at Pet Springs. We had our picnic lunch, and then hiked around a bit near the marsh and the Pike River. Then I let C. have some playground time, and I got my flirt on with a hot dad who was there with his kids. I was wearing my Tom Waits shirt and he said: "Great shirt. I love Tom Waits." An attractive guy with a lot of sailor-style tattoos, who obviously spends quality time with his kids, and likes Tom Waits? Gimme. So we chatted for a bit, and casually flirted. It wasn't heavy or serious flirting—on either of our parts—just that sort of casual flirting that's like "oh, this person is intriguing and attractive, and maybe in another life we might've had something."

It's weird to me that some people think that flirting is outside the bounds of a monogamous relationship. I mean, I guess I can understand if it crosses the line into serious flirting—i.e., flirting with the intent to pursue something more, or making a lot of sexual/romantic comments—but some people think even casual flirting counts. Whereas I think everyone should do more casual flirting—people in monogamous relationships, people in poly relationships, single people, even ace and aro people. Casual flirting is good for the soul, and it doesn't have to "mean" anything.

After we left Petrifying Springs, we drove to the beach. Because of the direction we were coming from, we drove part of the way on the spur road that connects the east-west county roads with Highway 32, and I thought of another one of my own poems—"Highway 32." Particularly the part that goes: here is the spur road back of / the river flanked by the / cemetery & the trailer park.

We spent a good hour exploring the beach: we discovered a party hut built from stones and driftwood, and walked the labyrinth, and got our feet wet in the cold cold lake, and picked up cool rocks.

The past week and a half has involved a lot of nostalgia (what else is new?). I've been sorting through stuff from Mays n' Junes (n’ other times) past (it's almost nostalgia-blogging time again), and it hit me, like really hit me, that it was twenty years ago that I first saw World/Inferno live. And it really did change my life. And then I thought about how May also marked 19 years since Kimball died (well, March was the anniversary of his death, but I didn't find out until May), and three years since Jack Terricloth died, and how I used to think of Kimball when listening to certain W/IFS songs like "Brother of the Mayor of Bridgewater" and "Thirteen Years Without Peter King," and how now I think of him but also of Jack when I hear those songs. I don't think I'll ever get over either of their deaths. That's the weird thing about grief. You can learn to live with it, you can grow around it, but you don't "get over" it, not in the traditional sense of the phrase.

I don't know. I feel kicked in the chest by the passage of time, always, like where does the time go? How are these things that I still remember so vividly things that happened ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty years ago? But on the other hand, I'm constantly mystified at how easy it is to be hurtled back in time to the site of a memory in a way that feels physical, like almost literal time travel. Like last week: I was listening to Billy Bragg for the first time in a while, and wearing this vanilla scent that smelled just like this incense I used to use as a teenager, and suddenly I was eighteen again, sitting in the spare room at the house on College Avenue, burning incense, listening to Billy's plaintive British voice, typing away on my old electric typewriter.

I've had some vivid and intense dreams in the past week. In one of them, I basically dreamed the entire plot of a novel. In the dream, I was reading the novel, but then I was also in the novel. The dream woke me up in the middle of the night and I jotted down notes about everything I remembered. And in the morning, when I reread them—they actually made sense, and I think there's the seeds of a good story there. It's speculative fiction/soft sci-fi, somewhat dystopian but also hopeful. So thanks, subconscious!

The other notable dream I've had of late was more of a "fuck you, subconscious" one. In that dream, I reconnected with Sullivan, and we got back together—and ended up making it work, this time around. It was a beautiful dream, don't get me wrong, but it hurt to wake up from, and know it was only a dream, and an impossible one, at that. It's not that I'd rather be with him than with P., or that I'd rather have that life than the one I currently have. It's just—it's just the unfairness of life, that we can't be with all the people we've ever loved, or live in all the places we've loved, or even pursue all the interests and careers we might have had. So what I felt waking up from that dream was not regret, but saudade—a longing for the way things might have been.

Also last week I trimmed a good inch off my hair (most of which was split ends) and trimmed my bangs shorter again, and it's a miracle how much better even a little trim can make me feel about myself.

Now it's June. Magic month. I've already seen the first fireflies of the summer. They're early, this year, and I'm happy. The rabbits that live in our backyard, that C. initially christened Paul Westerberg and Tommy Stinson, had five babies. C. has since renamed them, but I still think of them as Paul and Tommy, so it's extra specially hilarious to me when I think: "Oh, Paul had babies, and Tommy's the dad!" Happy Pride, MPREG is real! Haha. Speaking of Pride and silliness—the other day, I was typing "Oscar Wilde" into a note on my phone, and autosuggest thought I might be meaning to type "Oscar Wildfire," and now, holy shit, if I ever get to do the drag king thing, I have my stage name.

It's also P.'s and my anniversary week—we've been married for fourteen years, together for fifteen. Today's our official wedding anniversary, and is also fifteen years to the day from the night I first told P. I was in love with him. I know I say this every year, but despite all the ups-and-downs of our relationship over the years, and my boundless longing, there's still no one I'd rather be doing this with than him.

My mom gave me a few peonies from her yard so I could put them on our table, because peonies were my wedding flower, and now my whole house smells of their heavy perfume.

And this weekend is shaping up to be pretty good. On Saturday night, I'm going to hang out with Beagan—we're going to the closing reception of the art show of another good friend of ours, and then we're going to have a drink and catch up back at her place. And on Sunday, P. and I get to have a date night. My parents are going to watch the kiddos and we're going to go have a beer at a new-ish local brewery we've been meaning to try, then come home and grill up some steaks and veggies.

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bonefall · 2 years ago

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What herbs should a med cat use to treat epilepsy?

Now that the epilepsy herb guide is out, I can say with certainty that The BEST treatment for canon-compliant warriors is cannabis or valerian root, and a dietary change to fatty prey + eggs.

But let me tell you about the whole journey I went on in research, complete with links to the most helpful educational sources I drew on, in case you would like to learn more

(CONTENT WARNING: Historical discussion of abelism towards epileptic people, animal testing resulting in animal death, links to resources that discuss seizures affecting both humans and cats, cannabis, gross cuts of animal meat, and Pliny the Elder)

So I actually made a bit of a mistake that I won't make again; when I did the HRT guide, I started with modern medication and went backwards. That worked for HRT but didn't for Epilepsy-- because modern epilepsy formulas are almost completely synthetic.

I started with some casual googling for epilepsy in cats, and what treatments they tend to get. After that I started comparing that to epilepsy management in humans

THE big boy epilepsy drug is Phenobarbital. Only RECENTLY (as in, the past 30 years) have we really started to branch out past it, and they're mostly extra types of barbituates. These cannot be found in nature.

So then I was like, OK, I can step back a little bit more, right? WRONG. The predecessor of Phenobarbital was Potassium Bromide-- and I was kinda horrified to find out how much worse it is in comparison. Bromide has a bad habit of building up in your body and a ton of super, super nasty side effects.

The rise and fall of Bromide in epileptic treatment is an epic story all on its own!!!

I was going to include it anyway since Bromide was better than not dying (and indeed it was REVOLUTIONARY at the time), but even BROMIDE is made chemically. The easiest process includes boiling salt and iron together-- iron would not be something warrior cats can access.

Besides-- Bromide is sometimes used for epileptic dogs, but in cats, it causes lung failure of all things.

So, at this point I was realizing I was not going to be able to make the guide with the same methods I used for HRT. I couldn't even find barbituates or potassium bromide in Natural Review of Products, so I was gonna need a new source.

BUT THEN

It dawned on me that managing Epilepsy through the eyes of a Clan medic would involve the seizures specifically--- and I was already realizing that the best recommendations I was going to end up with were non-herbal.

So, before I dove into chasing down herbal remedies, I was going to make a section on general seizure management. Especially first-aid.

Which was where I realized I didn't know as much about Epilepsy as I thought I did. I was only actually familiar with first aid (even got training on it). I didn't even know if a seizure hurt or not (they don't) and I didn't know about the different types of seizures. The "famous" type of seizure is the clonic/tonic, or 'grand mal,' but the most common types are absence seizures, sometimes called the 'petit mal,' as well as localized seizures.

So it was here I nodded and said, "I need to make sure I listen to first-hand experiences of what it is like to have and self-manage epilepsy."

And it was very insightful. I went through firsthand accounts, and came across the Epilepsy Society, and double-checked their credibility (since after all I didn't want to accidentally run into the Autism Speaks of Epilepsy, y'know? As far as I can tell, these guys check out. Lmk if they're sus).

Their Youtube channel was helpful. Lots of stories from epileptic people, some nice informative videos, all short. This video specifically made me dive into absence seizures.

I couldn't include every experience because I was trying to keep the guide short and focused on this being a Battle Cat Fan resource.

So-- that's why the guide takes a lot of time setting up non-medication aspects of Epilepsy care. That entirely came from what came up in my careful research.

But! Of course! I still have a lot to learn so I'm still happy to go back and edit anything if I messed up. I tried really hard to get this RIGHT, y'know? I hope it shows!

However... I still wasn't done.

You can't listen to marginalized voices and not learn about abelism; and I was about to face against the long, cold medical history of ancient Epilepsy treatments.

I still needed to find herbs for the Funny Fight Cats to actually use. Googling wasn't going to cut it anymore. I worked through citations to find A Brief History of Epilepsy And Its Therapy In the Western Hemisphere by R.A Gross and Epilepsy – From Mysticism to Science, which is taken from a translation of the Revue Neurologique.

Historically, Epilepsy was widely seen in Western society as a spiritual possession, with varying degrees of sympathy through history. I would really recommend checking out the two sources I linked, but I was VERY taken aback by Pliny the Elder saying "The best treatment for epilepsy is spitting on them so they don't come near you." FUCK YOU, PLINY.

Unfortunately Pliny was just a huge bitch reflective of the general feelings of the time. It was a constant back-and-forth between people saying "EPILEPSY IS EVIL SPIRITS" and "no it's a medical thing"

And that came crashing to a head in the 1800s with the birth of modern medicine....... and unfortunately, institutionalization. Which is where the vast majority of modern attitudes towards epileptics was born.

Modern attitudes being those that strip epileptics of agency. This has been used to take away their autonomy and legal rights. So I did a lot of revision to try and make sure my guide wasn't reinforcing that, especially considering Warrior Cat's dodgy history with abelism.

Most epileptics can be completely independent-- so the majority of warriors would just need someone to patrol with when they're going to be walking in the dangerous woods.

I removed a recommendation I had in my first draft to completely prevent epileptic warriors from going on battle patrols for this reason. Stress and head trauma caused by violence can worsen Epilepsy; but I don't think it would be responsible to patronize a warrior for whom battle is an extremely important part of Clan life, when they could still choose to fight.

So, onward,

Those two books also gave me herbs to check. When I saw something I wanted to consider, I would jot it down and then go research it individually.

(this was helpful for filtering out some of the... interesting suggestions. I think I counted 8 different types of cooked animal testicles which OBVIOUSLY were not going into my SFW herb guide)

Mistletoe was the first one I found. I even found a study on its usefulness in treating Epilepsy. It was eliminated for being poisonous and being more regionally limited than chamomile, while is naturalized pretty much everywhere.

White Hellebore immediately made me tilt my head because Hellebore is notoriously poisonous. I knew it was used in herbal medicine, just like yew, but it was followed by a whole chunk of herbs well-known for being EXTREMELY deadly. It didn't make it into the guide because of just HOW deadly it was-- but this is the reason why I included Chamomile and Mistletoe.

There were LOTS of herbs eliminated for being too poisonous to cats, though. Hyssop, peony, datura, foxglove...

Chamomile was almost axed by the 'no poisons' rule. In high doses, it can be harmful to cats. I was pretty sad to be cutting it, but if HELLEBORE could be used for people, chamomile easily wiggles in if its dosage is controlled.

In my mind, Chamomile is the Warrior Cats replacement for herbs like Hellebore. The one closest to how humans were treated for epilepsy traditionally, and the one you'd use to strike a balance between the "traditional treatment" style of herbs the Erins use and the "soft realism" of the cats being slightly different from humans (can't taste sweet, can't eat certain things that would be fine for a human)

There were a ton of herbs cut for being in the wrong region, including camphor tree products. There's a lot of history to Middle Eastern, Chinese, and South American treatment of Epilepsy. I didn't dive too deeply into it, since my guides focus on the most common type of fan clans; Temperate biomes in central Europe and North America

Which brings me to my darlings, cannabis and valerian root.

I initially thought that cannabis was going to get cut, since I was only familiar with industrial level production. I was surprised to find out that feral ditchweed actually has a very long history.

You know when you really should have known something, but it catches you off guard regardless? That's where I was with ditchweed. I knew that a lot of early American items were made of hemp (the declaration of independence is actually written on hemp paper), but I didn't realize it could... grow feral like that.

Anyway, cannabis is actually one of the oldest epilepsy treatments on record. It's also fine for cats, as long as it doesn't have a high THC content, which feral weed does not have.

(it's also full of seeds which would be AWESOME for a warrior cat, I should actually make a guide on cannabis uses since it's one of those "golden herbs" like my friend Fennel)

Lastly, there's valerian root. Which is actually fascinating.

See, valerian root is another herb that was used to treat epilepsy in antiquity, but modern studies don't seem to know what chemical inside of it is the anticonvulsant. It's probably isovaleric acid, and REAL high doses of it have shown promise in treating epilepsy...

But this shit is stinky

It's STINKY and not palatable. Valerian root tastes like ASS. And it only gets worse the higher the dose you have, something you don't notice when it's just a herb and not a super concentrated supplement. Apparently it's so bad that the research I've seen has said outright, "We should synthesize isovaleric acid from somewhere else because this is gross"

But... cats?

Valerian root is practically the opposite to cats. They LOVE the stinky. It's like catnip to them. Though it's a sleep aid to humans, it can energize a cat and is only a danger in excessively high doses.

And the best part is that both of these herbs are all over the place. Valerian is invasive in America and likes to grow in wet areas, and ditchweed (cannabis ruderalis) is native to central Europe to begin with... though, funny enough, through American Historical Shennanigans™, ditchweed is now more common in the midwestern united states than its native range.

I was also going to read Plants and Plant Products with Potential Anticonvulsant Activity – A Review and The Falling Sickness by Owsei Temkin, but at this point, I had three solid herbs and a whole guide on epilepsy management as it pertains to Warrior Cats. I'd recommend these two if you guys would like to read further than I did.

I've been working on this one all week which is actually a LIFETIME considering my average attention span, so I'm ready to move to the next big thing!

#I HATE Pliny the Elder #All my homies HATE Pliny the Elder #I need to tag these meta things #Bone Babble #Herb Guide

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adhdthoughts · 2 years ago

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Ok nvm, I post it now.

So there are some updates in my life..

I think I shared it some time, that the adhd medication don't really work for me.

Ritalin/Medikinet doesn't really do smth for me.. also Elvanse seemed not to work that well. I feel more motivated to do things on Elvanse, but was never sure if it actually helps me concentrate better or doing the stuff that I needed/wanted to do.

I always took Ritalin/Elvanse with a few weeks or sometimes months in-between. Just because I wanted to have a new impression of what it does to me or if it even does anything. I can't sleep on Elvanse, even when I take it at 07:00 and going to bed at 00:00 or even 01:00.

I'm always struggling with falling asleep (1-2h) and when I am asleep I feel like I'm 40% awake. And sometimes I woke up after a few hours and need to try again.

But I have exams pretty soon (which is a big struggle coz I'm fkn bad as studying and really hat it) so I wen't to my Psych and asked for an attestation that I have more time in my Exam.

(Some background-knowledge: I'm kinda struggling with the time in every test that I write or wrote in school. I don't know why I'm so fkn slow at that, but I always get just ok'ish grades instead of good ones, because I can't finish my tests. I don't really feel like I'm wasting my time a lot or looking around a lot, but somehow I can't manage to finish them in time.. maybe because too much of an perfectionist and want my phrases to sound good and rearranging them in my head back and forth, Idk..)

Anyway, so I got that attestation and she also asked me what about my medicals (I wasn't there for 1 year and I told her that I still have that sleeping issues and then she said, np, you can take Trimipramin before you go to sleep, try it out.

I haven't used Elvanse for about a half year, because I didn't want to be awake half of the night and probably be tired or even more unconcentrated the day after. I only did it on working days so far, because I thought why should I use it on weekends, thats my free time.

So I after I got that sleeping med I tried it out on a Saturday with the mindset that I wanna get shit done that day. And wtf I was doing productive things for 11h straight. Like cleaning my room finally (kinda deep, also the windows and stuff, Pog xd), helped mom with the house, groceries, tried to sort all my lose paper/sheets into folders, etc..

Was a great feeling to get smth done.

But not every elvanse day is a 11h productive type day, but maybe because I'm not committing often enough that day/evening before.

(I still have some side-effects of it like cold feet, less appetite and my intestine is more active.. but that doesn't matter so much for me.)

So yeah.. I'm experimenting more with it, taking it 0-3 times a week.

I have much more joy on working at my job and it's pretty easy for me to work 8-9h even without any break (sure that's illegal and not healthy, but I'm not planning to do that often, that's just what I noticed).

For days when I really don't want to work my 8h that's a good mood boost.

But I think I also noticed that I can study better, but I'm still not quite sure about it, but at least it's helping me with getting the chores done, which is pretty nice, let me feel better and a clean room is better for concentrating when studying.

Will continue that in the next post..

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ihavejustthisonethingtoshare · 27 days ago

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HRT Journey

I started HRT about a year ago, and the Gender Spiral Podcast was definitely a big part of coming to the decision to try it. Hearing stories of other NBs, sharing similar doubts and uncertainties about their genders made me feel more secure that all these feelings are valid, and none of them are a strong enough deterrent from trying out taking T.

Thinking back on the moment of decision, Dr. Beal's take on the number of things you're excited about vs the number of things that scare you - makes so much sense! And that's pretty much how I arrived at the decision to try it. I was excited about more muscle definition around my neck, shoulders, and jaw, I was excited about stronger-looking arms, excited about a deeper voice. Not worried about body hair and more fat around the stomach. Kinda nervous about facial hair, and loss of head hair, and really hated the idea of bottom growth.

I started with a 2.5g daily dose of Testosterone Gel 1%. Improvements in mood and energy were felt almost immediately. It normalized within a few days. After a month, not noticing any physical changes I tried going up to 5.0g daily. I tried that for a month, but it got way too intense. I would get really horny, and would get random erections (?? i guess). And I hated it. It was the feeling of "bottom growth" I was worried I'd hate. This was all entangled in me coming to terms with being Ace too, so it didn't feel like me. I found that it wasn't bottom growth per se that bothered me - I just didn't want anything going on down there taking up space and attention. So I took a week break (maybe a month even) - no T at all. Until all these unwanted side effects subsided. And went back to 2.5g daily. And it all felt normal again. That's the best way I can describe it, with a small amount of T in my body I just feel normal. I would sometimes take a couple of days break after getting my period, if I was feeling overwhelmed. But mostly maintained the same dosage.

After 6 months I started noticing other physical differences. The hair on my chin and neck started to grow more. I thought it would bother me more - but it's just kinda there. I've always had some facial hair and was made to feel self-conscious about it. But accepting it as part of my trans-non-binary identity helped me be like - fuck it, that's just my body, it has hair places - deal with it. So I let it grow, and shave every couple of days. I got a fancy safety razor, and i actually really enjoy using it. And it all feels normal. I also noticed more definition around my neck, shoulders, and jaw. My voice started to drop a bit. Although I can still hit the same old high pitches, it's just the relaxed register is lower now. It feels more mucousy and nasally - but not in a bad way. After getting over a cold recently - I thought my voice was still hoarse - but then I was like - oh yeah, that's just my trans voice… something that I wasn't really expecting or thinking about (but makes sense in hindsight) the way my body smells changed. And I think the new smell bothers me less… my head hair actually started to grow back at my temples and the sides of my forehead. I was worried about additional hair loss, because I was already experiencing some, but now I think it may have been more anxiety-related, and getting a handle on that helped. My hair is still pretty thin at the top of my forehead, but with a good haircut, it doesn't bother me much.

My periods never stopped, which is a bummer. Not a fan of periods. When I was still trying to get a handle on my anxiety, period-time would be extra hard, and I'd often feel dizzy. It's better now - with T and a mix of anxiety meds. But still a work in progress. I'm trying the Slynd birth control pill to help with the periods. A bit nervous that it would counteract the T too much - since I'm on such a low dose already. But so far seems fine - and I have not needed to take a break from T during my last period, which is cool. But we'll see how it goes.

I think because I have Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, and had elevated levels of T at puberty - I wasn't too bothered by the changes my body was going through then. I was just having a hard time fitting into the idea of "girl" everyone tried to squeeze me into. But when I got older, the cysts went away and my T levels dropped, the way I was aging didn't feel right anymore. I stopped looking at myself in the mirror because I didn't recognize the person looking back anymore, and I much preferred my reflection in other people - through the eyes of people I loved and loved me. But it was getting really hard to connect with my own body. I simply couldn't see what they were seeing. I looked so jaded in the first video of myself I made to track my progress. I am so much happier now. I'm exploring new fashion, and it's fun again. I recognize myself in the mirror, and I like what I'm seeing. I'm still aging - and that is a gift in its own right - but the way I am aging makes sense now. I just feel normal.

I'm thinking about top surgery next. The boobs gotta go. They just don't make sense on my body anymore. I'm taking my time figuring it all out. I'm nervous about getting a major surgery. But the more I've been reading about it, the more right it feels.

I don't think I'm done transitioning, I don't think we ever truly arrive at a "final form". You just kinda go with the flow, and what feels right. But I do feel more secure in my identity now. And that's huge, honestly.

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morethan-oatmealandfruit · 3 months ago

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TW: weight talk, no numbers

Can't tell if I'm doing great in recovery, developing an overeating issue slowly, or if it's all just my meds.. I've been eating much more than I did at the beginning of recovery (after I had recovered from my surgery, as there were different nutritional requirements between then and now) but I'm on a medication that makes literally everyone who's ever taken it (basically) gain a ton of weight because it makes you HUNGRY AF ALL THE TIIIIIME.. I feel like I'm literally anorexic again (hunger-wise), just in a weight-restored body. I absolutely HAVE to take it for my nerve damage (compressed nerves in my spine and other bone-on-nerve damage throughout my body) because no one will give me anything else right now-thanks addicts who abuse pain management places so they suspect everyone just wants to get high!🙄-so I've been trying to eat my maintenance calories but every night I'm up in excruciating pain from the permanent damage done to my body from starvation and my exercise addiction, and I have to take this med when I wake up and again like 5 hours before "bed" (when I lay in bed and sit up doom scrolling all night in pain trying to ignore my hunger until I give in and have a snack..or a few😅). The medicine helps enough to make me keep taking it and I never ate so much that I threw up like with actual BED (I have really bad acid reflux so that happens all the time anyway so I couldn't tell even if I did I guess?🤷🏻‍♀️) but I did eat to a state of being uncomfortably full once. Most days it's just a normal amount of food for someone who isn't sedentary like I'm forced to be due to to the permanent physical disabilities I've developed from my ED/exercise addicted past, but for me in particular it's kinda a lot (but tbh I have difficulty knowing what's a "normal" amount of food due to my long-term ED) and I've gained a lot of weight in recovery already (as I needed to), so being sedentary on this type of the med is causing extra weight gain on top of that. (I might even be overweight at this point; not in the plus sized section and my husband blind weighed me a few months ago and I wasn't overweight, but I've gone up yet another size since then so..). Trying not to let it bother me too much. Definitely better off than before!

But today from the start I decided not to measure absolutely everything/go all day without eating so maybe eating all my food later would satisfy the demon that is these meds, and instead had a decent breakfast, I never do lunch so I just had some crackers and cheese midday, and a big dinner with my husband's bit of leftovers- and I'm going to allow myself to have an extra snack later at night because maybe then the medication-side-effect demon will be satisfied while I'm waiting for my sleep meds to knock me out..they don't work as well with the severe pain, so I'm up all night off and on eating and trying to pee (spinal stenosis is one of my symptoms and it makes it really hard to pee all at once so it takes me like an hour to pee completely😡)

So that's all tough to face, but definitely not as tough as anorexia and I'm still more healthy (in the ways that are possible for me now) than I was as an anorexic, even if I'm a bit overweight by now.

I always knew being a bit overweight was definitely better than being an anorexic, so I'm probably living proof at this point 😂

#being severely obese can be as unhealthy as anorexia #so don't you FAs put the “you said being severely obese was healthier than anorexia!!” words in my mouth #ed recovery #or a different ED developing?😅#or just side effects.#whatever. my physical health is super important right now so i will nurture myself as the neds see fit🤷🏻‍♀️#until i get something better #eating disorder reovery #anorexia recovery #weight restoration #weight gain

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infernal-house-demon · 5 months ago

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I have been writing nearly every day without fail. Since starting my current wip in February, I have written two instalments in what will be a four (or potentially five) book series. The word count of those two books is a little more than the whole hunger games trilogy combined.

People keep asking me how I am doing this. I truly don’t know. I think it’s a bunch of things converging together?

Tldr: emerge from years long burnout, be autistic with storytelling special interest, get medicated for your adhd, take care of yourself— oh, and actual writing advice like build a routine, engage critically with other media, don’t be your own worst critic until you reach the editing stage, write something you genuinely like, and you don’t have to have it figured out from the top. Writing is literally just making shit up and making more shit up to justify it. Now go write my beautiful darlings!

Writing regularly. Getting in the habit of doing it makes it easier to start every time. I’ve been lucky to have a lot of time on my hands recently so I’ve been able to get a lot accomplished.

Not giving a shit if it’s good. I don’t mean write garbage. You should still like and enjoy it. But don’t agonize over every detail. If you can’t think of how to describe something perfectly, do what you can and move on. Writing is for getting the ideas down. Editing is for polish. Make something you like but don’t pressure yourself to make it perfect. (If it makes you feel better, my editor pointed out I completely forgot to describe several of the main characters. Sometimes when you write a scene it’s just dialogue and vibes. You’ll fix it later.)

If you try to build out every detail of the world before you start, you’ll never start. Get place names and important details and customs down, then make shit up as you go along. Remember of course that you will then have to write within the confines of that shit, but don’t worry, you can always make changes! That’s the beauty of editing. (Editor me is so bad for the amount of work I give them, but that’s their job so 🤷🏻)

If you have a really clear idea of a scene, write it immediately! For the most part, I do like to write linearly, but if I have ideas for scenes or snippets of dialogue, I will write them all down right away. Then you’re not slogging through anything just to get to that scene you really want to write. This is especially helpful if you’re writing a series and the scene is very far away. Write it now.

Have a cutting room floor document! I can’t tell you how many times I had to cut things that didn't serve the plot in the moment only for them to fit perfectly into future instalments! It hurts to cut stuff you feel is really good, so keep it! You might use it later!

The rest of these are about to get very specific to me but they are what is genuinely part of what has helped

Take a big long break from your creative hobbies. After i graduated uni, i was thoroughly burnt out. I stopped painting, I didn't write often (only the occasional fic bc it was easier on my brain). I will say writing fanfic was a big help because it gave me an idea of the character dynamics, themes, and plot points I most enjoyed writing. Then I translated all of that into my current wip. But the point of this is not to push yourself if you feel burnt out. Take what opportunities you can to rest and leave your hobbies behind for a while if that's what you need. They will be there waiting for you. I spent a solid year and a half doing almost nothing. Most of my creative energy went into digital art, and even then i wasn't creating frequently. It's okay. You need the rest.

Get medicated for adhd. Obviously this is very me-specific but I realized I had undiagnosed adhd. I had actually been given meds to try in the past but the side effects were too strong. Finally, i went back to my doctor and he helped me figure out a new one to try plus dosage and all that (I know I'm lucky that i have a good doc). The one I'm on now gives me minimal side effects and really helps my motivation and energy.

Take care of your body first. Before I could emerge from burnout and get my super creativity boost I put in a lot of work on my health. I have chronic pain, so learning what helped and what didn't has been really important. Things like fixing my sleep schedule, making sure to eat regularly, listening to my body's needs were all things I had to do before I could get into a space where I felt up to creating. (I am still working on this one. It isn't easy and I am in pain every day. Sometimes that means no writing and that's fine. Wellbeing comes first.)

Be autistic and have storytelling be your special interest. Idk what to tell you about this one. I am autistic and I have always been fascinated by creating stories, why we tell stories, the stories that have lasting impact in our lives, etc. I did my undergrad in English and my upcoming masters program is in Anthropology where i plan to write my thesis on mythology. So, uh, get yourself an autistic special interest and let it fuel your writing.

Okay that was gonna be the last one but I just remembered a really important one. CONSUME OTHER MEDIA! A lot of people will tell you to read in order to write better, and that's 100% true. But like I said, I was in burnout after I graduated, and having read so much in my English degree, I did not want to look at another book ever again. I read maybe like 3 books in the last two years (it was the Lord of the Rings Trilogy which I have already read and I was in lotr hyperfixation mode). But engaging critically with any media will help you improve your own skills. Read a book, read some poetry, watch a show your friend recommended, listen to a podcast on a topic that interests you, listen to an audiobook, whatever! Then think about it and ask yourself what works and what doesn't. Then ask yourself why it does or doesn't work. Is it just a matter of preference? Or is it the word choice, the rhythm of the punctuation, the structure, the character arcs and voices. I have read a lot of poetry in the last couple years bc it tends to be shorter and gives my brain that quick hit my adhd loves. And I promise you it not only made me a better poet, but also helped my description in prose.

Anyway, that's all I can think of for now. I'd love to do another post about my inspirations/recommendations of media. But I'll do that later. I hope this is vaguely helpful to anyone, and if not, oh well! I had fun coming up with it.

#writing #my writing #writing advice #rambles #writers on tumblr

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teddybeartoji · 9 months ago

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hi mickey!! i’ve been on an off adhd meds for about 4 years so i’ll tell you my experiences with the two i’ve been on ☺️

the first one i was ever on was adderall and the first day i took it i genuinely got the worst stomach ache of my life. had to leave school early it was sooooo bad. but that happened ONCE and then never again so it was all good. genuinely helped me focus, for the 2ish weeks i was on it i did really well in school which was abnormal to me. i was on the lowest dosage though and i felt like i became kind of immune to it very quick so they upped me to the next dose and i unfortunately cant remember how that went at all but i figure it didn’t do much for me bc i switched meds.

the med i’ve been on longer is vyvanse which i have a love hate relationship with…bc. well. it makes me genuinely sick, like it just completely gets rid of your appetite. the idea of food, smelling food, looking at it, eating it. just can’t do it. i either eat before it or when it first kicks in bc unfortunately if you don’t eat while you’re on it the effects are worse. like you have to fight through the sickness so you don’t feel sicker? it also makes me wayyyyy social, takes away so much of my anxiety and makes me feel happy. my therapist said it’s because adhd can manifest as anxiety often times so it’s counteracting that. i don’t have an active prescription but i had one last year so literally like 2 weeks ago i had to do a shit tone of homework and i took the rest of my pills over the course of the week. and i got soooooooooooo much more work done than i did all quarter so that was great.

the crash after is INSANE though. it’s not uncommon to feel like super sad when it wears off and i vividly remember crying in school at the end of the day once bc it was wearing off and i started having an existential crisis. the nap after also crazy like just totally knocked out for hours. and the focusing and happiness will be gone but the icky stomach feeling will linger until u eat.

that’s just my experience but i hope it helped a bit :)

HII RO<333333 THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS WITH MEEE!!!!!! it's so good to hear genuine experiences bc they can just differ so so so much. i had never heard about vyvanse so i wrote that one down for myself.

it sucks that the side effects can vary so much........ like damn can the medication just be Medication instead of taking away one thing and replacing that with like three smaller things??????? pls. when i got my antidepressants my friend told me all about her first two weeks (we had the same meds with the same dosage). she was like yeah you definitely have to eat before you take them or you'll get super sick, you have to take them almost at the exact time every day or you'll get sick + she had like stomach aches and she felt like she was gonna throw up a lot so she was just constantly chewing gum for the first two weeks and that scared the fuck out of me. bc. that's a lot of things lmao like is it even worth it all of that???? but then i had absolutely none of that NONE OF IT. the only time i feel sick is when i forget to take them...... but it's still good to know how it is for other so i can atleast BE READY FOR IT.

ok but you don't take them daily though right? just when you know you're gonna be more busy? is that just because you don't feel like you have to take them daily or you don't want to? my friend kind of does the same but the thing is... i am literally unemployed rn and i don't have school or anything but i still feel like i can't focus on anything so i'd probably be taking them on a daily basis anyway.. and i'm just wondering whether that's a bad thing or not. maybe it just depends on how well they actually work and whether or not they give me any big side effects............ sighh it's so upsetting that you just have to Try Them. pay for the session buy the meds probably suffer for some time just as an experiment lmao i love it

it's really good to hear that it helps with your anxiety too btw!!! i didn't know that it could do that and this is just making me wanna try it out even more i'd love to Not Be Anxious. whew what a crazy thought.

but i am very very very scared of the appetite loss though bc well...... i struggle with that anyway i just kind of forget about it and it's such a big task so the thought of taking something that could possibly make that even worse.............. is scary lmao this was one of the things my psychiatrist warned me about too

oh and also the crash after it......................... MMMMMMMM yeah that's a bit scary too just considering i tend to go through every single feeling and emotion on a daily basis anyway thanks to my good old friend autism. SIGHHHHH WHY IS IT HARD BEING OFF MEDS AND WHY IS IT HARD BEING ON MEDS PLSSSS

oke i kinda yapped but genuinely THANK YOUUU FOR TELLING ME ABOUT UR EXPERIENCE!!!!! now i know what to expect a bit more!!!! i hope you're having a good good day<333 love u MWAHH

#THANK UUUUUUU #i appreciate u sm!!!!#gonna go and look for an appointment time rnnnn #sigh i love being an experiment #ro <3 #friends!!

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mydaymythoughtsandme · 2 years ago

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Self improvement

I have decided to take control of my health this year. I have an appointment coming up in a few days and it'll mark exactly 2 years from my (thankfully) failed attempt. With that said though it has been two years with the same medicine at the same dosage for each. (One I actually only take every other day now because of the side effects I was experiencing and because I was put on the lowest dose for all of my meds [and the pills are tiny tiny) that was the best thing they said for me to do and I no longer got the negative side effects) So with the medicine all being the same for so long I thinking of asking for adjustments (maybe higher dosage amounts for one or two of them, I'm not entirely sure). But I have felt a bit plateud in my mood and stability levels. I'm not in a super bad place again by any means and I am greatful for that, but I do feel like when I do have my lows they get kinda bad lately (although I do have some external stressors that are different that before) and I haven't had too much of the highs, just a lot of bleh and okay enough.

I don't want to just be okay enough I want to do better and be better and be in a truly good place that I can stay in. I know life will never be perfect and it'll never be 100% but I know it can be better and more consistent. And so much of that falls on me as a person and the effort I put into improving and I understand that. So I will be asking for possible adjustments to my medicine and about getting back into therapy as well. It's expensive but after everything that has happened I don't think I can afford not to. They were supposed to call me a few weeks after the last time I went in about a new therapist coming into the office but that never happened so if I don't get practically connected with said therapist right then and there I will be searching through my insurance and starting again that way. Insurance really helps me feel like I can improve myself a lot. One big issue I'm still having is my excessive sleepiness. I am ALWAYS tired. I can sleep for well over 12 hours and it's still not enough sometimes (I know that over sleeping is a thing that can make you more tired but it doesn't matter how much I sleep be it 2hrs 15hrs or somewhere in between I am always tired. I already spoke to both of my doctors about this and they both want blood tests so hopefully we'll see progress there soon.

I think the sleepiness is caused by a lot of factors. One being I can't breathe correctly when I sleep. I'm also a restless sleeper so that would explain why I feel wiped out after a long solid sleep so often. I also have been having issues with falling asleep lately but I think it's stress from the life issues caused by the sleepiness and my stomach.

The big thing is my stomach hurts all the time to the point that I'm actually open to the possibility of having a chronic illness or the like. Obviously I don't know anything for sure but I'm just to the point where I wouldn't be overly surprised if that turned out to be the case.

I think that covers at least the basics for the main points so I will cut it off here and possibly add more detail later. I need to try to ignore my stomach for sleep

#personal #feel free to ignore #rant? kinda?

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saltybaltic · 4 years ago

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AYO YOU AMAZING WRITER YOU💖 Can you write an nsfw Natasha x reader sex pollen fic where r goes on a mission with everyone and is the only one that gets hit with the sex pollen and thinks nothing of it until they get back for the debrief and r starts feeling the effects during the meeting with the rest of the avengers in there like the fever and aches and is super turned on and humiliated and everyone is confused trying to figure out what’s wrong then Bruce says the only thing that can help is sex and she picks Nat to help her out? Something super smutty 😳

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - EXPOSURE

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X FemReader Fanfic

Synopsis: On a mission you seem to be the only one who’s been hit with this air borne drug. Fortunately you have a great team mate to help you through it

Warnings: 18+ content, f/f sex, sex pollen so the usual dub-con for this trope

Words: 2345

You’d really thought nothing of it until you’d gotten off the quinjet. Even the whole journey home you had felt fine, brushing off everyone’s concern with a flick of the wrist as if it was nothing. You really had felt fine. The exposure to the gas back at the enemy base had been minimal, barely a few seconds, and after a brief once over by one of the SHIELD medics, you had been given the all clear that it was probably fine.

It wasn’t until you were walking towards the briefing room to have the post mission meeting that you started to feel anything unusual. Your skin was starting to itch with a burning hotness that was impossible to ignore. When you had parted ways with the team to quickly get changed out of your combat gear before the brief, you had treated yourself to a very cold shower but if anything it only seemed to have made you even more aware of how hot you were feeling. Washing at all was starting to feel like a total waste of time, your hands already clammy with sweat and the hair by your temples beginning to dampen and cling to the side of your head. Your brain felt fuzzy but at that same time it was like you were thinking with perfect clarity. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

Looking around the briefing room as you entered, it was as if you were wearing tinted glasses, everything not quite the way it should be and with a tinge of deep red or orange. You could feel every beat of your pulse against your skull, every hammer of your heart in your chest. Your throat felt dry yet you couldn’t stop running your tongue over your lips to prevent your mouth from watering.

It wasn’t until Natasha sat down beside you that it became apparent that something was very wrong. The smell hit you like a bus and it only intensified everything you were already feeling. It was like your senses had been dialled up threefold. You could take her all in as if it were carefully arranged layers just for you to enjoy; the coconut of her shampoo, the sweet smell of the lotion she’d applied after the shower, the laundry detergent on her fresh clothes, the smell of her perfume.

Maybe it wasn’t the most subtle reaction you could have had if you were hoping not to attract any attention, but jumping up from your seat so violently that your chair fell backwards with a loud crash certainly ensured that everyone’s eyes were now on you.

“Are you okay?” The concerned voice of Bruce from the other side of the room hit you but you could barely focus on what he was saying.

Standing up from her own seat to look at you more closely, Natasha cocked her head to the side as she examined your flushed skin, heavy breathing and blown out pupils. She turned back to the others in the room with a frown, “See, I told you she wasn’t alright.”

“But the medics checked her over.”

“Oh like they know everything.”

“Well they know more than you!”

“It was only a minor exposure and we don’t even know what it was.”

“She said she was feeling fine on the quinjet, I mean this could be something else.”

“Sure, it’s just a huge coincidence that she feels like this after being gassed.”

As the team descended into an argument, you couldn’t really hear what they were saying. Nor, did you care. You felt restless and fidgety, tapping your foot up and down against the ground as you rubbed at your forearms uncomfortably. Your jaw was clenched tight, tilting your head from side to side to work the muscles in your neck as you tried to get your breathing to return to normal. It felt like an adrenaline rush, that feeling that hits you just as the rollercoaster is about to go over the big drop. But it also felt like a hunger, a craving for something like you were a predator that needed to hunt. It was too hard to put your finger on it, too early in the stages of whatever you were feeling to identify it yet.

The sound of someone calling your name broke you from your thoughts, looking up at the rest of the occupants in the room to see them all watching you expectantly.

“What?”

Sitting down by a laptop at the head of the table, Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose as he tapped a few keys before looking up at you, “I’ll have to use the database we have to try and identify what you’ve been exposed to. But I need you to concentrate and answer a few questions okay?”

You nodded your head, closing your eyes momentarily as a wave of heat washed over your body and you tried to remained focused, “Sure, sure, sure let’s do it.”

“So this gas ... could you see it? Did it have a colour?”

It was so hard to focus on the question, your brain working at a million miles a minute but unable to make sense of whatever it was that you were thinking about, “Erm ... I don’t ... it was kind of ... like a greyish blue, I guess.”

“And a smell? Did it have a smell?”

“It was ... sweet. I suppose. Yeah ... but like ... a dessert or something. Like someone had lit a vanilla candle.”

The questions seemed to go on forever, with the occasional interjection from someone else as they tried to help with the answers. Each question narrowed the possibilities down further, Bruce carefully inputting the information into the computer. By the time he got to the bottom of it, you could barely think straight any more, your hands balling into fists as you tried to process the discussion that was taking place around you.

“That’s ridiculous, they don’t actually use that stuff.”

“Well obviously they do because here we are.”

“If they don’t use it then how is it in their files? We only have the information because we took it from them.”

“But there’s never actually been a case of it being used before.”

“Until now.”

“I mean just wanting to have a lot of sex doesn’t sound that bad, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon.”

“Tony! Can you be serious for one second.”

“It isn’t that simple. This is like a real urge. It can be quite uncomfortable for the subject they-“

“The subject?! She has a name you know.”

“But she’s not gonna do anything crazy right?”

“Well no she won’t do anything she wouldn’t usually want to do but the need will be off the charts. It can drive people crazy if they don’t get some sort of relief from it.”

Finally you couldn’t take any more, clearing your throat loudly to get their attention and gesturing towards the door, “Yeah so this is pretty awkward, little embarrassing, bit too intimate to be honest so I think I’m gonna take off.”

“Wait, you should go to the med bay.”

You interrupted Steve’s statement with a laugh, already making your way towards the door as you used all of your willpower to ignore the powerful surge of hormones and need coursing through your body, “What are they gonna do for me there exactly?”

“I dunno, some of those nurses are pretty cute.”

Despite the fact Tony’s joke earned him a disapproving look from almost everyone, you were actually grateful for it, laughing again as you took his words as your cue to escape and hastily left. You were halfway to your room when you heard the sound of feet hitting the ground behind you.

“Wait up.”

God even the sound of her voice was getting too much now.

“Nat. Please, I really really can’t be around you.”

Despite your statement, the red head fell into step just behind you and followed you down the corridor, “I wanted to make sure you got back alright.”

“And while I appreciate that, you’re way too hot to be this close to me.” your eyes fell closed at your words, the effects obviously starting to hit you stronger now as the confession fell freely from your lips. You never spoke to Natasha like this, you wouldn’t have dared on a normal day for fear she’d knock you to ground. Whatever you’d inhaled earlier that day didn’t seem to share your reservations as the arousal started to make itself known.

Natasha pursed her lips, not wanting to embarrass you as she was fairly certain you would never have normally said something like that to her. Certainly not so blasé. “It’s okay. I know this must be ... overwhelming.”

You snorted, “That’s one word for it. But seriously ... I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.”

“Well I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.”

Stopping outside your bedroom door, you looked back at the other woman and immediately had to close your eyes and turn your head away instead as a strong pang of arousal hit you, “Jesus.”

“What? Does it hurt?” the concern in Natasha’s voice was obvious, watching you carefully as your eyes bunched closed tighter and you pushed out a shaky breath.

Shaking your head frantically from side to side, you went to grab the door handle from behind the other woman, “It’s uncomfortable. It’s way too intense. I just wanna ... fuck ... I need to get inside ... I need ... I need you to move, please.”

The sensation of Natasha’s hands coming up to rest on your cheeks caused your breath to catch in your throat. It was almost too much, the feeling of her soft skin on yours was like electricity, a shiver travelling the length of your spine and a heavy drop hitting your stomach. One of her thumbs brushed over your cheek before she spoke, “Let me help you.”

When you opened your eyes to look at her, the feeling that came over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was as if someone else had taken control of you, like you were watching from the sidelines as your body acted of it’s own accord. The moment your eyes had locked with Natasha’s, everything you’d been fighting to control took hold of you and in three brisk steps forward you had the other woman caged between the door and your body, one of your hands coming up to rest on the wood beside her head.

“Natasha.” You paused to wet your lips, ignoring the huskiness to your voice as you scrambled around in your head for the smallest ounce of restraint, “You really need to leave now before I do something I can’t take back.”

If you had been expecting any reaction from the other woman, what she actually did would have been somewhere at the bottom of your list. Over the year or so that you’d worked with Natasha you’d had a mostly professional relationship, though that wasn’t to say you weren’t friendly with one another. However the forwardness of her next move was new territory all together.

Moving her hands from your cheeks, she ran them slowly down to either side of your neck. You could do nothing but lean into the gesture, goosebumps rising and flesh searing at the feeling of her fingertips digging into you. You were so lost in the sensation of her touch that you hadn’t realised she’d leaned closer until her hot breath hit the shell of your ear and she spoke in a low whisper, “But just think how good it would feel if you let me help you.”

Her words actually pulled a growl from the back of your throat, the ever growing heat between your thighs magnifying significantly at her words, “Nat ... last warning.”

Instead of backing down, Natasha tilted her head enough that her lips could attach to the side of your neck before speaking again, “Stop fighting it, I know you want me.”

That was enough. You couldn’t have prevented it no matter what had tried to stop you, pushing the door open with one hand as the other gripped the back of her neck and pulled her into a searing kiss. Practically falling through the door together, Natasha’s hands found your waist and all you could do was groan at the relief of the full body contact. Feeling the way her breasts pressed up against your chest, her tongue slipping into your mouth, her hands around your waist as yours slipped down to grope at her ass. God it was intoxicating and still you wanted more

If you had any control over the urges that were powering your body you’d probably have wanted to take your time. Your attraction to Natasha wasn’t something you were particularly ashamed of or desperate to hide. However you’d barely got as far as building up a friendship with the red head and so jumping straight into sex seemed like you were skipping a few important steps. Not to mention the fact that you were fairly certain this was not going to be a terribly slow or tender encounter. No. With the way you were already pulling her clothing from her body and tearing at your own, you both knew that this was something else all together.

Fortunately for both parties Natasha really didn’t mind. Of course after Bruce had explained the effects you would be feeling, what else would she be expecting really? But in the time the two of you had been working together she had come to care for you and the idea of you struggling alone wasn’t something she cared for. Also she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about you in a sexual way before, granted she never thought this would be how it happened.

In all your haste to get Natasha undressed you actually fumbled several times with the fastening of her bra, sure that you’d be embarrassed under normal circumstances but currently too frustrated and impatient to care. You were relieved when Natasha wordlessly reached around and undid the clasp herself, throwing the item across the room before wrapping her arms around your body to do the same with your clothing.

You could barely register what was happening as the two of you staggered backwards into your bedroom, barely managing not to trip over the clothing and shoes that you’d discarded on the way. You were too lost in her to bring yourself to care about being careful. Just kissing her was absolute heaven. Her tongue sliding over yours, lips working frantically together. You had expected Natasha to be a good kisser and maybe it was just the effects of what you had been exposed to but it was like a sparks were flying, a warm wave washing over your body and a pang of arousal with every soft moan from the red head that vibrated against your lips. The way she would occasionally suck your tongue more harshly into her mouth made you feel wobbly on your feet, and the sensation of her nipping your lower lip between her teeth had you desperate for more.

It didn’t take long for you to be pinned on the mattress beneath her, both naked now and lips still moulded together as she settled herself on top of you. Already you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against her thigh, desperate to relieve some of the pressure that had started to build. If anything you needed it more now, the arousal bordering on uncomfortable as you became acutely aware of just how wet you were against Natasha’s thigh.

The other woman didn’t need to be told, evidence of your arousal already coating her skin. She finally broke the kiss to lean down, but she had barely attached her lips to one of your nipples when you pulled her back up with a frantic shake of your head and a groan, “Please Nat, I can’t wait any longer, just fuck me already, please.”

You felt on the verge of crying you wanted it so bad, the whole experience completely foreign to you. It was bizarre to be overwhelmed with such a primal, animalistic need. Every time you found yourself in bed with a woman you enjoyed everything about it; lavishing her body with attention, the anticipation, the teasing, wanting to take her to the heights of pleasure over and over. This was nothing like that at all. You really just wanted to fuck. More than anything you wanted to come and you were fairly certain if you didn’t soon then it would be the death of you.

Nodding her head in understanding, Natasha pressed her lips to yours again as she propped herself up on one of her elbows, “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You were so soaked by now her fingers slipped easily inside of you and all you could do was lie back and release a loud moan. You weren’t sure whether it was in relief or pleasure but either way you were certain that Natasha’s fingers had to be one of the most wonderful things you’d ever felt in your life. Just one thrust of her digits already had your fingers grabbing at the sheets below you, heels digging into the mattress and head thrown back against the pillow in bliss as finally, finally you were given what you had been craving.

“Good?” asked Natasha, her fingers having stilled inside of you almost immediately as she waited for some kind of signal from you that what she was doing was definitely what you wanted.

Nodding your head hurriedly, you brought her mouth down to meet yours again, mumbling frantically against her lips between kisses, “So fucking good ... keep going.”

Natasha grinned, happy to oblige as she started to move her hand again and picked up a steady pace. Almost immediately your hips were moving of their own accord to match her, grinding down against her fingers as she worked them inside of you. Every thrust was heaven, the woman above you seemingly knowing exactly what you needed as she began to push into you harder and faster with each stroke.

Everything about it was satisfying the urges that had been threatening to overwhelm you. The brush of her hardened nipples against your chest as she moved above you. The frantic pants for breath into your mouth between heated and messy kisses. The intensity of how she was watching you and the subtle smirk on her lips as she knew how much you were enjoying what she was doing. When her thumb came up to brush over your clit you wanted to be embarrassed at the groan of pleasure that rang out in the room but you were too far gone now to care.

All of it was perfect. She was perfect. You could feel your head getting foggy, that faint twitch to your limbs as the pleasure was building in the pit of your stomach. As you tightened around Natasha’s fingers you craved the release that you knew was so close. The way her eyes were locked on you almost made you melt under her gaze, the darkened green eyes and pink tinged cheeks making sure you definitely wanted to have your way with her after this.

You could feel it happening, allowing the sensation of your orgasm to consume you as it started to hit with another brush of your clit and a curl of Natasha’s fingers. A loud cry of her name echoed off the walls at the action, your teeth sinking into the side of her neck in a failed attempt to muffle the noise. You couldn’t catch your breath at the feeling of satisfaction that finally swept over your body, hands gripping at her shoulders and toes curling into the mattress as you relished the moment. Your thighs quivered slightly and you could feel your pussy clenching around Natasha’s fingers, the red head groaning in quiet appreciation at the sensation. It was exactly what you needed.

And just as her fingers were beginning to still, you could already feel the arousal rising again. The tingles of pleasure had barely subsided and you hadn’t even had a chance to catch your breath before you were hungry for more. Natasha seemed to notice it at the same time you did, not missing the way your eyes had clouded over with lust again.

You were filled with relief when you caught her smirking and her fingers started to slowly move again.

Yeah, Natasha was definitely the right person to help you with this problem.

—//—

Find the morning after HERE

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #Natasha Romanoff smut #Natasha Romanoff fanfic

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transsexualism-archive · 2 years ago

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tips for dealing with chronic illness that i wish someone told me when i first got my diagnosis:

as a general rule, people aren't supposed to feel pain or distress every single day. try to compare your pain levels with other people's. even if it's "not that bad". even if you think something is normal

talk to other chronically people. find your community. reddit forums >>>> webmd

i cannot stress this enough check with your doctor if and or how your meds interact with each other, especially if you're starting a new medication

put your meds where you can see them, whether it's your bedside drawer or your desk or the kitchen table. stick post it notes everywhere you can see. set an alarm. set three alarms

for the love of fuck don't drink if your meds don't mix with alcohol. or at least drink responsibly. personally i find that im okay if i have one glass of wine or a beer after a full meal; if you do prioritise drinking over whatever side effects you will potentially have, drink responsibly

that being said, you're allowed to have nice things sometimes, whether it's drinks or a food you can't really eat, or going to bed later

if you need to spend a lot of time in bed, invest in a bedside drawer, or just put a spare chair next to your bed. stuff i try to make sure is always within my reach: water, pain relief cream, tissues, charger and headphones

big water bottle or just straight up a huge plastic bottle near the bed and/or your pc. if you don't like drinking water, juice or soda work just as well

coke zero has anti nausea properties because they put too much artificial sweetener in it and have to counteract it

sleep schedule. lack of sleep can make your pain levels a lot worse

you need to eat. if you don't have energy to cook, ramen and instant soups/instant mash potatoes are a godsent. there's all kinds of dry instant meals. snacks aren't the same as a full meal, but if you have issues with eating a bag of crisps is better than nothing

learn what your body needs. try to notice if there's any patterns. how many hours of sleep do to need? how many spoons do you have on average? what makes your symptoms worse? what makes them better?

mental illness is just as much of an illness as a physical syndrome. you wouldn't expect someone with a broken leg to walk as fast as someone without one. if you're dealing with depression you shouldn't expect for yourself to do the same amount of things as a person who isn't depressed

you can and should ask your doctor as many questions as you need. ask your doctor if you can contact them outside appointments. from experience, most psychiatrists are okay with being texted if you're in a crisis situation and need help/advice immediately

sometimes you're just not able to do something or perform at the same level that people without your condition can. it's really frustrating but you shouldn't have to push yourself to do something which is harder for you than it is for others

write shit down. as someone who is dealing with memory loss, often if i don't write something down it's gone from my brain forever. whether it's notes app or a cute notebook or just a random piece of paper that's lying around, developing a habit to put something down in writing if you notice it is helpful. if journalling is something you enjoy, keeping a mood/other symptoms tracker is a great idea. there's also journalling apps, and different kinds of trackers

half assing things is better than not doing anything at all. wash one plate instead of the entire dishes. clean one part of your room. eat one bite

your body is your friend. don't do things that are bad for it, or at least try to aim not to

that being said, sometimes you do end up choosing to do something that you know you're going to regret later. plan it ahead so you have time to rest after. f e if i do a lot of walking i need to clear my schedule for the next few days because i know i won't be able to get out of bed tomorrow

learn your patterns. what makes you feel better? what alleviates your pain? if you feel bad right now, or on the contrary your symptoms are more manageable than usual, is there something youve done differently today?

sometimes dealing with illness is like taking care of a small child. sometimes the child is throwing a tantrum. sometimes you want to strangle the child

self dx is valid. that being said, if you have an opportunity to see a doctor, absolutely go do it. even if you don't think you actually have the thing. even if it's not that bad. even if it's not disabling. it doesn't hurt to have a medical professional look at your stuff

most importantly, be patient with yourself. most likely you have limitations other people don't, and that's okay. some people can run a marathon and for some walking from their room to their kitchen is a challenge, and neither is better/worse/more valid. physical weakness is not a personal flaw

#pls tell me if theres typos i double checked but yknow #long post #chronic illness #ref #not putting this under a cut btw #advice column #ira talks

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boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

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the guy at the rock show

she/they reader x Spencer Reid

request for @boba-king-iroh ♥︎

summary: Y/N lost their parents when they were 17, finding a new home and solace in Penelope Garcia and taking the Garcia name. They're the top forensic specialist in D.C, in a band and they drive a motorcycle... not to mention they are madly in love with the cute doctor who works with their sister.

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions, friends to lovers, idiots in love, PDA, secret relationships

word count: 5666

a/n: there will be a smutty part 2 eventually because I can't not do that

THE PLAYLIST THAT GOES WITH THEIR SETLIST IF YOU WANT TO LISTEN WHILE YOU READ

Read on Ao3 here!

Taking Garcia’s last name wasn’t something they had to think hard about, Penelope basically raised them; she was like a sister, a best friend and a mother, even a bit of a fairy godmother to Y/N.

They met when Y/N was 17, they were sitting at a support group for dead parents in D.C. Right beside the lovely, overly cheerful, always helpful, Penelope Garcia. At first, Y/N couldn’t stand her, wondering how a person like that could be running a group for mourning people, it made her sick.

It wasn’t until she heard Penelope’s story for the first time, knowing how similar it sounded to her own and how, actually, you can take your grief and turn it into something beautiful. After the meeting, they pulled Penelope aside and gave her a big hug and a thank you.

It was the start of a lovely friendship, one Y/N didn’t know they needed until they were smothered in all the love you could possibly imagine.

The age gap between them wasn’t too big, Penelope was 10 years older than them which meant she was always one step ahead of Y/N and full of advice. Be it fashion, boys, girls and everything in between. They bonded in a way that was unbreakable, they were each other's family.

Penelope even helped her get into med school before she eventually switched to forensic science. Taking on the FBI academy, unlike Penelope, and joining the bureau officially. Penelope was there for her every single step of the way, making her career possible. She loved her dearly and wanted Y/N to succeed more than anyone in the world.

Getting to introduce herself to people as Agent Y/N Garcia, not to be confused with technical analyst Garcia, was one of the best feelings in the world.

Not many people ever mistook them, however, for whatever Penelope was, Y/N was the exact opposite.

Y/N preferred all black everything, she didn’t enjoy partying or close contact or the in-your-face-ness of Penelope’s way of life, she loved her band and motorcycle and being alone. They were quote-unquote edgy, not just for effect, but because it was how they felt the most comfortable, it was who they were and they liked it that way.

They were possibly the best Forensic Specialist the FBI had, keeping her in DC for all the most important cases. Helping her avoid Penelope and the BAU team as much as possible. They were great people, she didn’t hate them at all, it was just a lot of energy that they didn’t have to give to 7 other people all day long.

Spencer was the only one she could tolerate. Rather, he was the one she wanted to spend the most time with, even more than Penelope. He understood Y/N in a way others didn’t.

He was also quiet, like them, he didn’t pick on them or call them mini Garcia, baby-baby girl, or infant as some of them started to call her more recently.

He called them Y/N, he talked to them about star trek whenever he was visiting Penny, and he respected their pronouns. Using both she and they interchangeably, when he spoke of them, unlike most people who only used she and her because it made more sense in their small brains.

However, she wasn’t the only one who got teased. Spencer did as well, almost more because he was around the BAU team constantly. She hated hearing them bully him, he didn’t even count it as bullying but it’s basically what it was sometimes.

They put him down, they didn’t clue him in on things, they called out his stims and didn’t let him finish his sentences, especially when it had to do with his hyper-fixations. He was the brightest light in the room and they just picked his brain till he wasn’t useful anymore, before trying to turn out the light. It made Y/N furious.

They got called Mr and misses genius when they were on a scene together, remembering the first time she ever had a case with the BAU which was also the first time she snapped at someone for being mean to Spencer.

Someone asked Spencer a serious question, to which he did his fucking job and answered. Giving as much detail as humanly possible, being the absolute genius he is and should be praised for, only to have Emily poke him in the cheek and say; “wow, he’s so life-like?”

“Well yeah, cause he’s a fucking human who deserves respect from the people who use his brain all day,” Y/N cursed under their breath from the crime scene, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Leaving the sweetest man on earth to find them later and give them a hug. Thanking them for all that they do, and appreciating what he has to offer. That’s when she realized she liked him, more than just the guy who sometimes sleeps on her couch because he’s friends with her sister.

It was difficult being surrounded by men unlike Spencer, specifically the older men in her field who didn’t understand anything outside of money, guns, and violence. The worst part of the job being the politics in the background; the hierarchy and ass-kissing all because she worked in the nation's capital.

They were sure it was probably better in a smaller facility, a local police station where no one knew her and they could finally have some peace and quiet.

But she’d miss Penelope, and Spencer too for that matter.

At first, they’d hide in their room when Penelope brought him over for movie nights or when he crashed on the couch after bringing her home drunk from the bar. In the early days, she worried that he was going to be her new boyfriend, taking all of Penelope’s free time and leaving Y/N with nothing.

But then he started coming over all the time just to hang out, sitting on the couch with nothing to say, being the third wheel while Y/N and Penelope spent time together. For the last 7 years.

Over that time they had many conversations alone, she learned that he was really smart, he was a lot younger than most of the team because he blew through high school by the time he was 13, and he was genuinely the sweetest man in the whole entire world.

One time, Penelope was running late when Spencer showed up at the door with chips and candy, ready to watch his weekly movie with his friend. Only she wasn’t going to make it home in time, and Y/N didn’t want him to have to go back to his apartment all alone.

“You can come in and watch it with me if you wanted to?” She offered, smiling softly. “What was it you picked for tonight?”

“It was Penelope’s night to choose, so you can pick instead if you want?” Spencer offered right back, walking in like he owned the place.

He was more confident now than he was in the beginning, but that was probably because he was 23 and she was 18.

Back then he’d barely look at her and sometimes he’d shake when they made eye contact or when she got drunk and hugged him goodbye after a long night with Penelope. He was like that with Penny in the early days of their friendship too, apparently, so she didn’t feel too bad about it.

He warmed up eventually, making her wait 7 years for him to do something about the growing feelings they both shared.

“You like Marvel movies right?” She bit the inside of her lip as she waited for his answer. Watching him walk around the kitchen for a bowl that he could put his snacks in.

“Yeah they’re great, I haven’t watched past the second Thor, I think the next one is another Captain America?” he’s all smiles as he joins her on the couch, closer than normal, as close as he’d sit with Penelope, but then again she was a cuddler and Y/N wasn’t.

Sometimes Y/N would come out of her room to find Spencer’s head on Penelope’s lap, resting on a pillow as she ran her fingers through his hair to soothe his perfect mind after a long day. A few times she’s walked in on him crying or even sound asleep in her arms. They had a friendship Y/N admired, they were each other's person.

They comforted each other in the exact way they needed it; Penelope giving him the physical touch he craved and he would often compliment her. He was always telling her she was the best and buying her gifts to show his appreciation, calling her the most beautiful and smartest person he knew. He knew that she needed to hear it, needed the reassurance that she was still a good person and he made her believe it.

It made Y/N love him more seeing how much he cared for her sister.

“The winter soldier is the best!” She gushed, sitting close so they could share the chips as she waited for the movie to load up.

He was very quiet when he watched movies, smiling and laughing at the right parts but typically he paid so much attention it was like he was a statue. Y/N spent more time glancing at him than the actual movie.

“Is there something on my face?” Spencer asked, nervous when he noticed her glance at him for the 100th time that night.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she panicked lightly, swallowing quickly before looking away.

“What?”

“I don’t know, I just think you’re fascinating,” she whispered because then she didn’t really say it, and it didn’t really count.

“Oh,” he smiled softly, leaving it at that and forcing his attention back on the movie.

After a while, Spencer started to get even closer. He put the bowl on the coffee table and sat back almost on top of her, reaching an arm behind the couch so that Y/N was right against his side. He had done it with Penelope before, confident in this little living room, almost forgetting it was Y/N beside him.

Y/N rested her hand on his knee, rubbing her thumb over his jeans in a soft little circle as she pretended to watch the movie. More concerned with Spencer’s breathing and the feeling of his hand inching towards their shoulder than anything else.

Then they heard keys at the front door. Pulling away from each other quickly to curl up on opposite sides of the couch and pretend they weren’t just cuddling.

“Hey, you still came!” Penelope cheered, a little drunk from whatever she was doing before.

“I’d never miss a night with the Garcia’s,” Spencer smiled at her, looking calm and collected as ever while Y/N turned bright pink.

“Oh, I love Bucky! Oh my god let me go change and I’ll come watch too!”

That was just the first time they ended up cuddling, certainly not the last.

—

It wasn’t often that Penelope was too busy to spend time with Y/N, rather the contrary. Sometimes Y/N had to beg her to leave her be at certain events. Like when their band was playing at any of the local bars and Penny started inviting everyone she knew to come and watch her sister play.

It was embarrassing, to say the least, but Y/N loved her support.

When Y/N peaked her head out to see the crowd before a show, normally Penelope was sitting in the front with a drink and at least 4 friends, cheering and chanting their name, ready to rock out to their covers.

Tonight she didn’t see Penelope at all, she knew she wouldn’t, Penelope was in London visiting Emily with Derek for the second time in the past year, leaving no one to come to the monthly show Y/N’s band put on, or so she thought.

Spencer came all by himself.

He was sitting in the front, at a table with a bowl of pretzels and a ginger ale, not interested in the drinking or the socializing, just there to support Y/N. It made her feel giddy, like a schoolchild seeing their crush at recess.

It was so nice of him that it gave her butterflies, and normally that didn’t happen. They could go on and play a show in front of ten thousand people and feel nothing, but the second Spencer Reid was there to cheer them on, they were a mess.

“What song are we doing first again?” Y/N asked Evie, their lead singer and best friend outside of work.

“Who are they?”

Y/N was taken aback, “What?”

“You’ve never been nervous, who came to see you?” Evie clarified her question.

“No one, for fuck sake, I thought we left all the profilers at home tonight?” she sighed, shaking the nerves out of their body as they jumped up and down lightly.

They paced back and forth for a few minutes to wear down the nerves but only managing to make herself sweat to death and discard the leather jacket she always wore on stage. She walked in a circle aimlessly, remembering the setlist in their mind and how the spotlights typically made it so they couldn’t see the crowd anyway so it’s not like she could fuck up by making eye contact with him.

And it’s not like it was the first time he had seen her play, Spencer comes every month with Penelope, he liked a lot of the music they covered from when he was an emo teen in university. They’ve bonded over it before sharing albums and records back and forth, but she was still scared shitless at the prospect of him caring about her enough to come alone.

Especially when he hated being in situations like this in the first place.

It was their turn to go on, the manager of the bar gathering them and telling them to go on and so Y/N started walking towards the stage door, only to be pulled back harshly by Evie’s cold hands.

“Don’t forget your sticks, god who do you wanna fuck so bad it makes you this stupid?” She placed the drumsticks in Y/N’s hands, “get it together.”

“Sorry, it’s the guy in the sweater vest, front row,” they whispered in response, putting their head down and heading to the stage before she could tease them about it.

“The Forensic Lyricists are here once again folks!” The Manager introduced them to the crown, “get ready for them to dig up some classics!” Always the same dumb joke before every show.

Opening with crushcrushcrush by Paramore, thank god she remembered, it was an easy song to play as they warmed up and pushed the nerves away. They could play it in their sleep, with their eyes closed, and so that's what they did.

Eyes closed, mouthing the words as the adrenaline of the night took over the anxiety and made them go insane, like most nights. They didn’t need drinks or drugs to feel hyped at most shows, all she needed was a smile from penny and a good luck text from Spencer.

Playing by memory until she felt more confident and then getting into it. “They taped over your mouth, Scribbled out the truth with their lies, your little spies…”

“Crush, crush, crush, crush crush two, three, four!!” Y/N sung backup for each chorus, finally getting into it.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again.”

They tried their hardest to push the images of that night on the couch with Spencer out of their mind as they sang along, trying to harmonize and cover the backup for Evie as best as she could.

“Let’s be more than this now!”

She always took the bridge, as the drummer and the most passionate one, it only made sense. Y/N always got the crowd on their feet, roaring along as they jumped to the beat.

“Rock and roll, baby, Don't you know that we're all alone now? I need something to sing about. Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? I need something to sing about! Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? Give me something to sing about!”

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, let’s be more than, noOoo!”

She had a crush on Spencer fucking Reid and one now noticed as they tried their hardest to focus on the words when all that came to mind right now was his body heat and how good he smelled and how nice it was that he came to support them.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, Let’s be more than this, more than thiiiiiis, oooooooh, mmmmmmhmmm,” she sang the ending of the song along with Evie, their harmony sounding more perfect than any performance before.

Critics always said the performance is better when you mean the words you’re singing. With that, they accepted their crush on Doctor Spencer Reid after 7 long years of knowing him. They pushed through nerves so that they could go and see him after and do something about it, now that Penelope wasn’t home to tease her for it.

Leading right into Dear Maria, Count Me In. Their bass player, Kat taking the lead for her favourite song. Being an all ‘girl’ punk band was her idea, and now they all enjoyed taking turns singing their favourite songs in front of mostly strangers, once a month.

Every single song made her think of Spencer in some way as she remembered the rest of the set, it had 5 songs in total and each one included at least one reference to something she knew about Spencer.

It was hard to not think about him while he stood at the edge of the stage with everyone and bopped his head along to the beat, a smile growing on his face as he also noticed the little references to them in the songs.

The Rock Show by Blink182 was going to hit a little too close to home as she sang the words all but to him, making eye contact with him as he moved to the best spot to see them play, much like Penelope would do every time.

She didn’t realize how much this song actually represented her life before tonight, starting to sing her song alone while Spencer watched. Deciding on the spot to dedicate it to him in the most fucking obvious way possible, taking her chances because he must have come for a reason.

“Hanging out behind the club on the weekends. Acting stupid, getting drunk with my best friends, I couldn't wait for the summer and the Warped Tour, I remember that it's the first time that I saw him there!”

Spencer was smiling then, noticing the lyric change as they made eye contact, nodding along as he watched. Genuinely enjoying himself and the show, it was lovely to see. She couldn’t help but smile against the mic as she sang and played. Wondering how his face will change with the next verse she watched him from the corner of her eye.

Her bandmates turning to see her as they played their guitars, nodding in agreement at the lyric change, they knew what she was up to. It wasn’t the first time they used the stage to bring someone home with them.

“He's getting kicked out of school cause he's failing. I’m kinda nervous, cause I’m sure all his friends hate me! He’s the one, he'll always be there, I took his hand and I’ll make it I swear,

“Because I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town, I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!”

Spencer’s smile was priceless, it made them even more confident to sing all the words, wanting him with zero shame, it’s not like anyone who knew him would know about this.

“When we said we were gonna move to Vegas I remember the look your mother gave us 17 without a purpose or direction We don't owe anyone a fuckin’ explanation”

“Black and white picture of him on my wall, I waited for his call, he always kept me waiting, and if I ever got another chance I'd still ask him to dance, because he kept me waiting!”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town,”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!” She had never been this passionate while playing this song in all the years they had played it together.

Her bandmates taking the lead singing, “with the guy at the rock show!”

“I’ll never forget you,” she sang in the middle of their chants, “I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget tonight, I’ll never forget tonight…”

She shot a wink at him before turning back in her seat to face the drum set the best way. The last two songs were Evie’s and Kat’s, she covered the backup vocals, making the occasional glance towards Spence as she thought of him.

Counting down the minutes till she could go see him.

Come a little closer by cage the elephant, an obvious title with lyrics that would clearly bring every memory of brushed hands against lower backs as they slipped past each other in crowded rooms, lingering as long as possible before they were gone again. Goodnight hugs when Penelope was already asleep and he could hold her a big longer and tighter, resting his head on her shoulder while she rubbed his back and breathed him in. And that night on the couch, not to mention all the mornings she walked in on him sleeping peacefully, brushing the hair out of his face, softly, in the hopes he didn’t wake up.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see, Come on, come on, come on, Things aren't always what they seem to be… Do you understand the things you been seein' Come on, come on, come on! Do you understand the things that you've been dreaming… Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!”

And even when he did she had a coffee ready for him when he sat up and smiled, giving them a few hours alone before Penelope would wake up. Talking all morning about star trek and dr. Who, smacking his knee as he made jokes that genuinely made them laugh while trying to keep her voice down so they didn’t wake Penelope.

Not many people made her feel like that in her life.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!” Staring at him, enticing him to do it the next time they had the chance.

The intro to I’d Do Anything by simple plan was one of her favourites to play, smiling wide as she began to drum as her best friends sang the words.

Waiting for the chorus to sing the words at Spencer, really sending the message, he wasn’t dumb, not in the slightest, he would get it. He had to, she had already been so obvious there was no turning back now.

“This could be the one last chance to make you understand,”

Her arms were starting to hurt as she played along with the most energy she has had in years, playing like a teenager whose parents just died and she needed to hit something, once again. It was freeing, playing with what she could only imagine was love in her chest instead of anger. It’s how she was supposed to play.

"I’d do anything Just to hold you in my arms To try to make you laugh Cuz somehow I can’t put you in the past I’d do anything Just to fall asleep with you Will you remember me? Cuz I know I won’t forget you,"

Focusing on the drumming and ignoring the lyrics as her bandmates covered the lyrics, letting her go hog fucking wild on the drum set, almost kicking the chair out from under herself as they kept going. Joining for the chorus again before beating the shit out of her drum set.

I close my eyes And all I see is you I close my eyes I try to sleep I can't forget you Na na na And I'd do anything for you Na na na Naaaaaaa

“I’d do anything!” She closed her eyes as she pushes the words past her vocal cords, again and again, passionately playing the drums as her hair flew all over the place, worried she might break the sticks as she played.

“Cause I know I won't forget yoooou!” She plays the end of the song, snapping the left drumstick in half before throwing the right one into the crowd, right into Spencer’s hand, sending him a wink before saying goodbye to the crowd.

Sweaty as hell from playing the drums, they brushed their long black hair back behind their ears and in a low ponytail so it would fit under her motorcycle helmet on the way home. Putting their leather jacket back on and heading into the main bar to find Spencer.

“Hey,” he smiled as she walked towards him, the drumstick now resting in his pocket as he approached her.

“I can’t believe you came here all by yourself?” Y/N laughed slightly before pulling him into a thank-you hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it, I’ve been coming for a year now, it’s always a great time,” his smile was perfect, his teeth were so white and straight and she wondered how they’d feel against her neck.

“It’s been that long?” She pretended that she didn’t notice, biting their lip as he ran the calculations in his mind.

He nodded with a soft, pressed-lipped smile, the Spencer classic. “Yep, it’s been exactly 14 months straight now.”

“I know you don’t like bars and loud noises and people you don’t know, or germs which makes this like a nightmare of yours I guess because of the close proximity of people and the germs being spread as everyone screams in a crowd,” she ranted before he was pulling her into another hug, “so this means a lot to me,” she finished her thought beside his ear for only him to hear.

“Anytime,” he whispered as he held her, his arm on her back and chin resting on her shoulder.

“Did you need a ride home?” She offered, thinking about how nice it would be for him to wrap his arms around their body as he sat behind her on Patsy, her motorcycle.

“Yeah, unless you wanted to go to your place and watch another movie? I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting,” he spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Yeah, I’d love that, it’s been lonely while Penny’s gone,” a smile erupting on her face as she got the reference, “come on then.”

She took his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers and dragging him backstage towards her locker. She had a space to keep her things for practice and other shows she did during the week, keeping an extra helmet and jacket in the locker for nights like this, however, normally it was a cute stranger. Not the man she’s been crushing on since she was a teenager.

“Oh, you brought Patsy,” Spencer’s face went white.

“Did you not want to ride her? Come on, everyone wants to ride her at least once,” Y/N teased him as she put the helmet in his free hand.

Her bandmates staring at her with proud smiles as she took the guy from the rock show home; the one in the sweater vest from the front, the one who was the most into the whole show, they both gave Y/N a wave and a smile as they slipped out the backstage door.

They walked out to the parking lot, still hand in hand with their helmets in the other. Stopping at her dark purple Suzuki GS650 GT, it was her most prized possession because it used to belong to her parents.

She put her hair in the right spot before putting the helmet on, sitting down and starting the engine, revving it for everyone in the lot to see as Spencer put his helmet on and threw a leg over the seat, nervous as ever.

He fit behind her perfectly, just enough room on the seat for his chest to press against her back as he placed his hands gingerly on her hips. It made her laugh.

“You’re going to want to hold on better than that pretty boy,” she teased him before revving the engine once more, kicking the kickstand up and speeding out of the parking lot.

Spencer gripped her tightly as she took off down the street, taking the longest route possible to her home. She didn’t hit a single red light for at least 5 blocks, zooming through traffic as Spencer squeezed the life out of her.

He felt amazing, his hands were so big as he fully wrapped around her, reaching around completely so his right hand was on her left hip and vice versa. He was so close she could feel his heartbeat against her back.

He was nervous, he flinched every time she turned and held on even tighter somehow.

So she did another lap of the block, around the park’s bend so she could lean the bike as far as possible as Spencer’s fingers dug into her hips fiercely. Breathing deep enough that she could hear him over the engine, but he wanted her to keep going. Not ready to let go of her yet, this is the closest they had ever been to each other.

When she finally pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, they bumped over the curb and his hand grazed Y/N’s boob, he pulled back so fast it was barely there, she just shook her head and laughed. Parking the bike and putting the kickstand back down.

Spencer let out a sigh, relaxing against her as he rested his chin on her shoulder again.

“Have fun?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” he laughed, his voice deep and dry from breathing with his mouth open, it was cute.

He got off first when his legs were finally able to work again, still vibrating from the rev of the engine he walked like Ariel when she got her legs. It was priceless, no one has reacted like that after getting a ride from them, not even Penelope.

She took her helmet off while still on the bike, shaking her hair out of the ponytail as provocatively as possible before getting off. Spencer’s jaw fell open once more as he watched, breathlessly, just as she expected.

Either he liked them before and never told them, or he was going to start now.

Either way, it excited Y/N to their core, taking his hand once more and leading him inside, this time they could be as close as they wanted to and no one was going to walk in on it. She stopped at her locked apartment door, looking at Spencer as softly as possible so he’d know her feelings were real.

“I know this will cause the teasing we already get to skyrocket, so if you wanted to keep it between us, I fully understand,” she whispered.

“Is that what you want?”

He was so sweet it made her heartache, never before had anyone made her feel like this; like she wasn’t in control of her body or mind, like an override in the system her brain and heart chose Spencer and there was no stopping them.

“I just told a whole bar of people that I’m in love with the guy at the rock show before taking you home in front of everyone,” she laughed, “I don’t care if people know, I just hate when they tease us, they belittle everything we do like we’re 17 forever, it’s not fun for me.”

“I hate it too,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly once more, “I’d like to keep you to myself for a while.”

She cupped his face in her hands and pulled in, pressing her lips against his as they both tried to repress their tightlipped smiles. Finally, finally kissing after all those years staring at each other's lips while they explained something, passionately as ever with the most attentive ears.

“Exactly, me too,” she smiled wider as she pulled back from him, unlocking the front door and pulling him inside for that movie he mentioned.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 (dm me if you want me to remove you)

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams

#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle #tw self harm #tw suicude #tw child abuse

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quinncupine · 4 years ago

Note

Yo imagine being in the general class of UA and being recovery girl’s little apprentice/intern and one of the 1A boys constantly getting hurt (whether its on purpose or accidentally ) as an excuse to come visit; I’m imagining todoroki or kaminari because I’m in a mood for those 2 and Deku wouldn’t need to an excuse 🙄

Ha, of course Deku wouldn't need an excuse!🙄 That's his second home at this point. I’ve never written for Kaminari before so this was a fun little experience! Sorry I’m answering this so late, I took a little writing break last week, but now I’m back on the grind! (Also I tried to keep this gender neutral as well!)

Word count: ~2.8K

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Midoriya, Kaminari, and Todoroki with Intern!Reader

Midoriya

"Midoriya, Midoriya, Midoriya," a soft voice sighed in mock exasperation. "How did I know I would find you here yet again."

Izuku flinched and looked up from his spot on the bed to see you casually leaning against the doorframe. That signature white lab coat draped over your form suited you perfectly. You looked like a real doctor standing there with the little clipboard tucked neatly into your waist and that warm smile radiating off you. To say that your smile had an effect on him was an understatement.

"Uh," he chuckled with a nervous smile, "sorry, I know I was just here yesterday."

"Yesterday? Midoriya, you've been here every day this week." Hopping off the door frame, you crossed your arms. "Do you wanna see me that bad?"

It was only a joke, but his face flushed a bright crimson at your words. Suddenly, every spot other than you seemed much more interesting to stare at, so he didn't catch that smirk lighting up your face as you stepped into the room.

A quick flip through the probably too many pages in his chart that he'd racked up this year alone, "So, what's it this time?"

"Just a sprained wrist," he held up said wrist. "I thought it was fine, but then it started to swell so I, uh, thought I should come here…just in case."

"And how did it happen?" you set the chart down and pulled the little wheeled stool to sit in front of him. With gentle fingers, you prodded the bruised skin.

At your touch, he stiffened. You were so close, eyes solely focused on his wrist. While you were examining him, he took the opportunity to stare at you with those giant green eyes of his, cataloging every inch of your face. When you began your internship with Recovery Girl, he was shocked the first time he walked in here to see you instead of the older woman. Not that he was complaining. You were way more amiable with him and although you didn't appreciate him injuring himself so much, he'd come to quite like these little meetings with just the two of you.

"Lucky for you, it's not too bad," you decided, looking up to meet his deer-eyed gaze. One which he promptly looked away from. "Ice it for twenty minutes a few times today and the swelling should go down. I'll get you a compression bandage." When you stood up to root through the doors for the bandage, you glanced back at him. "What'd you do, punch a brick wall?"

"Concrete actually," he stuttered out. "I missed my opponent, couldn't stop my follow-through in time."

The power he held always amazed you, but you were always the one to see the after-effects during training. He was strong to a point of recklessness. Something he really needed to work on. Finally finding the bandages, you walked back to your stool.

"Well, I hope you kicked that wall's ass then." Grabbing his hand, you locked eyes with him, "just don't overdo it too much. You only have two hands so try and keep them for at least a few more years yeah?"

Izuku was only half-listening, too entranced by your touch to keep up with the conversation. As you carefully wrapped his wrist, he sat back, taking the time to take in your image. This was really the only time he ever got to see you. The support department was on the opposite side of campus and those classes rarely ever teamed up. Besides, you were part of the relief support courses, not tactical, which meant the two of you would never train together while here. And while you were great at this part, patching him up right quick, and sending him on his way, he couldn't help but wish you were slower. All he wanted was to just sit here forever with you, injuries be damned.

"Right then, here we are," Straightening up, you finished wrapping the limb, and with a double check to make sure everything was in order, you smiled up at him. "You know, I should start charging each time you come in here. I bet you'd be able to cover this entire department's budget in a week.

"Oh, you think so?" the way he cocked his head, that cute little innocent widening of his eyes seemed to inject serotonin straight into your veins. The boy was just too adorable for his own good and he didn't even know it. "Sorry, I don't mean to be a bother."

"A bother? You?" An airy laugh blew past your lips. "My day would be so boring if I didn't have my favorite patient to keep me company." He tried his best to hide that all too obvious blush creeping up his neck. "Although, I could do without all the injuries you seem to be racking up."

Izuku turned his focus to the newly wrapped wrist, biting on his lower lip. He couldn't even bring himself to look at you or he might combust on the spot. When you left his side to go wash your hands, he finally sneaked a peek. Now that you were done, he was going to have to leave. He didn't want to leave. He liked being here with you. For whatever reason, anytime you were near him, his heart raced and he felt lightheaded, but also a million times better, even with whatever injuries he was sporting. If he didn't already know your quirk, he would've thought you had the ability to heal with just a simple smile. You were an adrenaline boost he always looked forward to.

"You're not always here, right?" the words left his mouth before he even realized he said them aloud. "I, uh, I mean, you do other things outside the recovery ward?"

"Sure," you shrugged, drying your hands. "You're not always training, right?" With a pause you shook your head, "wait, don't answer that. I think I already know that answer." Casting a smirk at him, he looked down at his shoes, a smile of his own taking root. "I'll have you know I do do other things besides patching up one Mr. Broken Bones Midoriya."

"Oh yeah, of course, you do!" he tripped over the words as they spilled from his mouth. "I just mean that your really cool and stuff but I never really see you other than here and I know the campus is big, but I just thought that maybe you, or I, or, or…uh…" he was running out of gas and confidence so he decided to abandon ship and jump to his feet, intent on escaping this sinking boat. "Um, anyway, thanks for the uh-thanks for this!" Waving his wrist, he made for the exit but before he could make his hasty getaway, you stepped in front of him.

"Geez Midoriya, calm down," it was like trying to corral a frantic bunny. The boy's eyes were darting all over the place, probably looking for a different escape route. "Tell ya what, when that wrist heals up and if you don't get any more injuries before the weekend, let's see if we can change not seeing each other around."

Izuku froze, the words processing in his mind a few times before they finally clicked. "You mean like a-a…"

"Just try not to get hurt for at least a few days? You placed a hand on his shoulder and lead him towards the door. "Think you can manage that?"

He'd never been so motivated to stay this healthy before. A furious nod and you sent him off with a wink. When the door closed, he slumped against the wall outside, bandaged wrist against his chest, trying to stop the mini horse race trampling through his chest. What he didn't know was that you were on the opposite side of that door, one hand to your own chest, the other trying to combat the heat on your cheeks. You'd been working up the courage to do that all week because god knows when Midoriya would ever find the courage to do it. An all too excited squeal rushed out of your mouth before you could stop it. This was going to be an interesting week.

KAMINARI

You could hear the babbling from down the hall before you saw him. That stupid deep-fried laugh was synonymous with one person and one person only. Dropping the pen and whirling around in your chair, you leaned your elbow on the armrest as two of the school's med bots ushered Denki in. Thumbs up and that dopey smile plastered on his face had you trying your best to contain the giggle building in your throat.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," you smirked at the blonde who'd been sat on one of the beds. "Go over your limit again Kaminari?"

"Yay…" he mumbled and fell back on the bed with a groan.

It wasn't the first time he'd come in with a fried brain and if there was one thing you knew about him, it wouldn't be the last. The good thing is he usually just needed to sleep it off for a bit. But being the ever diligent medical intern, you came over to check him over.

Denki laid sprawled out on the bed, hands finally giving out and falling to his side. After a quick examination, he appeared to be in working order, just needed a bit of a recharge, so you returned to your paperwork and let him be.

A half-hour later, he sat up with a loud groan, rubbing his head, "Uh, that majorly sucked."

"Ah, so sleeping beauty finally rises," you didn't even turn to him but still felt that charming smile bounce off your back.

"You really think I'm a beauty?" he grinned, standing up to stretch. "You know I'm still pretty sore, I could always get back in bed and we can see if a kiss will make me feel better."

"Tell me," a playful tug on your lips as you twirled in your chair to face him, "do any of those lines ever work?"

"That's for you to answer and for me to find out."

"Sorry to disappoint bud, but I don't think you're gonna like my answer." Satisfied with his little pout, you turned back to continue your work. "You're fine Kaminari, you can go back to class now."

"Aww, but being here with you is so much better," he trudged over to your desk and leaned on the back of the chair. "Can't you write me a doctor's note so I can stay here with your beautiful face for the rest of the day?"

"And what would you even want to do here with me for the rest of the day, hmm?" you hadn't meant it to sound like an innuendo, but judging from his flushed expression, he'd taken it that way.

"Don't tell me you're interested in the medical field now?" it was your attempt to gain control of the conversation again. "And after all that hard hero training you do."

"Uh, I…" a small spark shot between his hands as he tried to think of something to say. You must've really thrown him off this time, although that isn't very hard to do. After a few moments of fidgeting, he deflated and dropped his head. "All right, I'll go back to class."

"Aww come now, don't look so down," you laughed, leaning back in your chair. "I'm sure Mr. Aizawa is much more fun than I am."

"Yeah, if you think torture is fun," he pulled his hair with a whine and slogged towards the door. When he reached for the handle, he paused and glanced back at you with a forlorn look. "Not even a kiss for the road?"

"Hmm," tapping your chin with the pen, you smirked, "maybe if you come up with a less cheesy pick-up line, then I might be more inclined."

That perked him up more than any jolt of electricity could do. "Well you're in luck babe, I've got plenty of 'em!"

"Let's hear it then, I'm all ears."

"Okay, okay…" he scrunched his face and crossed his arms. You could practically see the gears turning as he thought it through. "Damn," he spoke after a moment, trying to hide his smirk, "you're so beautiful you made me forget my pick-up line."

You chucked the pen at him with a snort, which he narrowly dodged, hopping halfway out the door in the process. "Oh my god Kaminari, I said less cheesy, get out of here!"

That dorky grin back on his face, he held up his hands. "Fine, but don't think I'm finished here. I will find one that works." With a wave, he disappeared, yelling through the door, "mark my words!"

TODOROKI

Honestly, the scrape wasn't even that bad or that deep, but he still found himself marching towards Recovery girls office in hopes he'd find you there. Ever since you became her intern, he seemed to find himself injured more and more frequently…by total accident of course.

"Oh, Todoroki," you smiled as he walked in. "What brings you in today?"

"I injured my arm during training today," he said flatly, holding the appendage up. There was a sizable gash under what looked like scorch marks. "I thought it best to get it checked out."

"Geez, who were you fighting this time?"

"Bakugo," with a shrug, he glanced at his arm.

"Well, that makes sense," you waved him to one of the beds, "come on, let's have a look then."

Silently, he sat down on the examination bed, the stiff paper ruffling as he scooted back slightly when you approached. His whole body was stiff, eyes staring everywhere but your face. It didn't look much different from his usual self, but internally, he was having a slight meltdown from your mere proximity alone.

Sliding the stool over, you sat down and twisted his left arm back and forth to get a good look, muttering a few things before giving it back. "the cuts shallow which means no stitches, so that's good. Should heal on its own in a few days. I'll just clean it and wrap it, then you're good to go."

"Oh," the word unintentionally slipped out.

When you looked up at him, you noticed the tiniest of pouts forming on his lips. "Unless something else is wrong?"

"No!" he said a little too quickly.

Something else was definitely wrong. Throwing him a quizzical look, you headed for the drawers that held your supplies. "That's good I suppose," you said lightly, "It seems like I've been seeing you almost every day this week alone."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"I didn't say I was complaining," with a grin, you sat back in front of him with sterilizing pads and gauze.

Those words alone were enough for his left side to flare up. When your fingers touched his arm to clean the wound, you flinched away.

"Uh, hey Todoroki," you cocked your head, trying to maintain that professional demeanor Recovery Girl kept pestering you about (although the old woman should take her own advice) and not crack a smile. When his eyes finally met your own, you pointed to his arm, raising a brow. "Might wanna tone down the heat there."

He blinked. Then blinked again before realizing what the problem was. His cheeks flushed almost the same color as his hair and turned his head in embarrassment, rasping out a quiet apology.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" dapping the wound after the skin cooled down, your eyes wandered up to his. "You seem a little worked up."

"Something like that," he mumbled, watching your hands delicately work, using that as a distraction to keep from staring at your face. The same face he could easily find himself lost in if he gave himself the chance. So he decided to change the subject. "It's quiet here." Yeah, way to go, man, real insightful.

"Yeah, Recovery Girl gives me the quietest shifts until I gain enough experience." Once the soot was cleaned off, you grabbed the gauze. "You don't always have to be injured to come visit me, you know." Sparing a quick glance up at him, you started wrapping the limb. "I wouldn't mind the company."

"Am I even allowed in here without an excuse?" It was just a curious question but your frown caught him off-guard, wondering if he said something wrong.

"Couldn't hurt to find out," you mumbled, "I mean we are in an infirmary." Tying off the gauze, you patted just below the cut with a small smile. "Okay, you're all patched up. You're free to go."

"Does it have to be here?" Shoto suddenly stood up, eyes meeting your own.

"What?"

"You said you wouldn't mind the company," he furrowed his brow. "Does it have to be here?"

"Well, no, I was just saying…wait, you wanna see me outside of here?" you gestured around the room, a little baffled.

He nodded, looking less confident by the minute. "If that's alright with you."

The smile that lit up your face was brighter than any flames Shoto could ever hope to produce. "It's more than alright with me."

...

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#bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #todoroki shoto #todoroki shoto x reader #gender neutral reader #intern!reader #the boys being adorable #denki is totally cheesy dork #request

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