#i upped my dosage instead and have never felt better

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!chan, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1420

a/n: my favorite chan is back<33

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

masterlist

loser!chan who was now thoroughly and utterly addicted to you to the point where he couldn't function unless he had his daily dosage of you.

ever since that first encounter, chan knew that he would never get enough of you, but it wasn't until that fated day in which you finally took his virginity that chan knew that he was thoroughly fucked.

he couldn't think of anything but you. during any lulls in class, his mind would go straight to you and all the things the two of you could do together. when he woke up in the middle of the night, it was in a cold sweat as he awoke from a filthy dream about you. even in the moments you were in front of him, in the most innocent of circumstances, his mind would go straight to the gutter.

you had ruined former chan.

after that first time experiencing what it felt like to be with a pretty girl like you, chan had become instantly addicted to the feeling, now constantly seeking you out as much as possible.

he had become a bit of a pervert, in short terms.

instead of you seeking him out, knowing chan was too shy to do it on his own, the dynamic had shifted. now chan would text you asking to come over every other night. he'd occasionally beg you for nudes any time he you were too busy to see him. and the best worst of all had been a few days ago, when you'd caught him sniffing your panties after the two of you had slept together.

chan couldn't lie. he did become a depraved version of himself through the months in which he'd been fooling around with you. it had all just hit a peak when you took his virginity. he now understood why everyone around him was so obsessed with sex. and he believed himself to be insane for not having lost his virginity sooner. except he was thankful he hadn't, because that meant that he now had the most gorgeous girl to please and to please him in return.

at first you seemed surprised by the change, gasping whenever chan would try and take charge and jump you as soon as you stepped into the threshold of his dorm room. but you clearly seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it by teasing him or enticing him into fucking you faster and harder. you'd even left behind a few pairs of panties after having noticed that first missing pair.

~

"m-more, fuck. please ... p-push it back, i need it," he mumbled against your cunt, lazily licking at it from behind.

his arms were holding onto your hips, dragging them against his face as he ate you out.

this was yet another thing chan had recently grown infatuated with – eating you out.

whether it was day or night, chan would take any possible opportunity to get himself between your legs or bend you over in order to get his mouth on your cunt. these escapades would always result in the two of you fucking like animals on the bed, but nowadays chan always insisted in eating you out beforehand.

it was always quite a filthy sight, the way in which he'd still whine and beg for you, even when he didn't get any gratification from the act. crying against your cunt, he'd get more desperate by the minute, forcing you to arch your back more so he could get an even better angle to lick and suckle at you.

like now, as he manhandled you to his desired position in the same fashion of a petulant child, demanding things go his way. you aided him, grinding against his face, only causing him to groan against you yet again.

"cum for me?", he mumbled against you, "wanna taste it so bad ..." he pulled away for a moment, simply staring at your cunt, "its so pretty ... fuck, your cunt's so fucking good to me," he moaned before going back at it even more intensely this time.

it didn't take long for you to cum for him. with the combination of praise and his messy way of eating you out, it was impossible for you to hold back. the worst part was how he moaned and thanked you as he licked every drop of arousal coming out of you. the combination of praise and pleasure made the experience entirely blinding, eventually forcing you to drop on the bed in exhaustion.

he climbed over you, giving you a nasty kiss so you could taste yourself on his tongue.

after months of seeing each other, chan had perfected the art of those messy, wet kisses he loved to share with you so much. sometimes he'd even have to hold back from giving you short and sweet kisses while in public, knowing that his tongue might sneak into your mouth and create a scene of public indecency.

equally as depraved as him, you grabbed onto his hair and pushed his face against your own, moaning as you suckled on his tongue. you made out and felt each other up for some minutes until chan's hands grew too greedy, attempting to flip you over so that he could fuck you from behind.

this was yet another new development in your relationship.

having taken his virginity only some months back, you had shown chan every position you could think of, teaching him the ins and outs in order to optimize his pleasure. as time passed, he became more confident in his ability to fuck you, now often opting to fuck you rather than have you take full control (though he still went crazy any time you manhandled him and rode him all the way to oblivion)

positioning you, he ignored the thought of a condom altogether, having been informed by you that you had a iud and did not feel the need to ever use one with him. chan was yet to know what it was like to fuck with one, and he didn't ever want to find out.

he also learned that he enjoyed teasing you. this would usually take form in him rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds, making you whine and push back against him to get him to slide in.

rubbing himself against you, he hissed at the warmth he felt at barely dipping his tip in a tiny bit. you were always so wet and warm for him. only him. the thought made him push in with no warning, needing to feel the physical manifestation of how much you were his.

groaning at the feeling, he leaned forward, pressing up against your back as he fucked into you. the feeling of naked skin against naked skin was one of his favorite things. he couldn't help but fall in love with the intimacy of it.

"how do you feel s-so fucking good?" he groaned, pace of his hips going crazy against your ass.

"you, channie ... you do this to me. so good. such a good boy," you sighed.

even when he was in control, you managed to take it right back with just your words. your claims of ownership over him along with your praise were things he could no longer live without. he loved that you had been the only person to claim him. he was enamored with the fact.

"y-yeah? i think its you. you gorgeous, gorgeous girl. im yours? y'know what?", he leaned as close to your ear as he could, "you're all mine too."

whining at this, you tightened around him, making him lose his composure yet again. this had been the first time he had rebutted at your usual mumbles of him being your good boy. and he loved it. he loved knowing that even as he was your good boy, you were his pretty girl. his and no one could ever have you again.

continuing to hump against each other like wild animals in heat, your highs came to you at an almost equal speed, optimizing your orgasms all the better.

chan fell limp on the bed, being immediately dragged by you so you could lay by his side and cuddle him like you always did. your aftercare of him always made him cry inside. you took care of him so well, giving him all the affection a boy like him could ever hope for.

the usual i love you's were shared, falling into your slumber without having enough energy to even clean up.

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

yes maybe any rules you follow while writing or what you think is important? would really help and I bet there's lots of ppl who wanna know

ok so I’ve put together a few but these are just my opinions. I’m not a fan of writing rules, so keep in mind that these are just my personal guidelines that I’ve learned over years and that always have exceptions. The most important thing is to have fun and to develop a feeling for what works and that’s something you only get through experience. My first fanfiction was crap but I had a blast writing it anyway. Hope this helps, lmk if you have questions 💕

Beginner:

Formatting. This is about reading economy for the reader. get rid of empty lines (there’s shortcuts in word for that). Use paragraphs (there’s info online when to start a new one). Use quotation marks (“” or »«, don’t get fancy). Punctuation (em vs en dash, comma goes before the quotation mark etc.). No caps lock. Use bold or italic for emphasis.

Consistency. choose whatever narrator you prefer, the tense to write in and the pov—stick to it throughout. See also: “head hopping”

Grammar & spelling. Doesn’t have to be perfect but just using a simple spell checker helps get rid of major issues.

Advanced:

in medias res. start as late as possible in the scene and leave at the earliest point. skip the simple stuff like waking up or falling asleep unless you have a reason to. This keeps the tension up.

always say less than necessary. give as little info in dialogue as possible. Usually I’ll write what I want the character to say and then go over it again and cut it to the bare minimum. People never say what they actually mean. I aim for not more than 2-3 sentences per direct speech section.

Avoid info dumping. Don’t have a character tell you their backstory. Show how it affects them today and drop subtle hints at it. Use environmental storytelling. When describing environment, sprinkle details throughout instead of putting them in a paragraph and try to always relate them to the character. Like what do they think of the carpet? Do they have a memory attached to it? Maybe the forest seems dark and lost to them because they have been kidnapped and feel lost. Stuff like that.

Rule of 3. This is for foreshadowing etc. once you mention something 3 times for some reason it gives the reader a sense of consistency and “roundness”. Referencing something that happened earlier in the story also helps make the world feel more real.

Avoid head hopping. Don’t switch from one character’s pov to the other’s in the same paragraph. Better even avoid it in the same scene or chapter. It’s hard to follow.

Overused phrases. “She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding” and more (you’ll find lists of that online).

Very niche:

Remove the filter. Whenever you’re tempted to write words like “saw”, “felt”, “heard” or other words pertaining to senses, see if you can rephrase the sentence. Just describe the thing directly. Ex: instead of writing “I looked at the clock.” write -> “The old fashioned clock on the wall showed it was already past lunch time.”

Said is not dead. Don’t overdo it with the dialogue tags. Said is a word that the reader skips over and doesn’t notice. It focuses the attention on the story rather than the writing, so no need to show off your vocab. Again, this is a case of do everything in measures. It’s not forbidden to use other dialogue tags on occasion—dosage is key!

Dosing adverbs (words ending in -ly). Same thing. Whenever I use an adverb in my writing followed by a verb, I try to think about whether there is a stronger verb to use so I won’t need the adverb. But sometimes it’s perfectly okay to use it. Like when you try to show a contrast. “She smiled happily” is redundant because a smile usually indicates happiness and you could use “she beamed” instead. But if you write “she smiled sadly” it’s an oxymoron and therefore a strong use of an adverb.

Metaphors/purple prose. Good and necessary but don’t overdo it. Rule of thumb for me is: use metaphors and similes etc to describe sensory input but keep it simple when describing actions. No need to write “she removed her elusive presence from the limited space of existence surrounding us.” Instead of “she left the room.”

A good scene for me ends in a different place (emotionally or/and physically) than it began.

Character voice. study the way a character speaks and try to mirror that in your writing. What kind of vocab do they use? Where are they from? Do they swear? What terms of endearment do they use? Do they speak more formal or informal or even slang? Where do they come from?

My favourite story structure: chiastic or reversed chiastic. Not gonna explain it here, if you’re interested you can look it up. This is just a personal favourite.

[dmbakura]

I haven't been officially diagnosed with pmdd but I have my suspicions because holy fuck

so I take progesterone supplements and it's mostly helped my periods go from Hell to manageable, however every 4 or 5 cycles or so the pre menstrual depression comes back so fucking hard I don't even know what to do about it.

I don't really get "mood swings" it's more like I get this constant heavy depression and apathy. I don't mean I get sad or weepy, I mean I completely lose all emotion (usually except for rage) and I have this constant conviction that I will never be happy again and nothing will get better. I literally feel like I lose my entire personality during this time, like completely disconnected from everything. I had such a bad cycle this time I was having suicidal and self harm thoughts. it's genuinely crazy to me how I feel, and once this passes, it all just goes away and I don't know why I felt like that. right now I think I'm almost over it and the emotions have turned back on again and I feel almost back to normal but man, I haven't had such a bad spell like that in a long time. I don't even feel like myself.

and again, this is AFTER medication. before progesterone, this would be almost every cycle instead of every 4th or 5th. idk if I need to just up my dosage or what. I have an appointment with my doctor soon so maybe I'll figure something out then.

idk I'm just posting this cuz it doesn't seem normal, and I'm kind of tired of playing the raffle of "am I going to experience complete personality death or is it going to be a normal period this time"

[catboybiologist]

ur dad is bzzt wrongo and 1 year is not a lot of HRT time. have some patience

(and increase the dose if necessary, remember that endocrinologists lie to you about the right dosage)

So yeah, I know 1 year is nothing in the whole grand scheme of things. The only reason that became a goal is because it works out very well with my plan for this year, and cleanly fits into my personal life as a point to come out and socially transition. I guess I got it in my head that socially transitioning will be easier if I pass. I don't think it matters much, though. Most of all, boymoding is just killing me, and dysphoria does too.

I know I'll never "fully" pass, and will always be clockable, but you can still be clocky while registering as femme overall. I'm okay with that long term.

My big, BIG hope is that I'll be able to go at least partially stealth by the time I graduate from my PhD and move locations, resetting the people around me. That'll be sometime between 2027 and 2029 most likely, 4-6 years on HRT. That's the big one.

As for doses, my gender care nurse has actively encouraged me to fuck around with doses, and treats her role mostly as an advisor and the person who writes prescriptions. She writes me basically whatever prescription I want, and now that I'm on injections, I'm fucking around a lot with doses. Also I'm kind of responding to the "diy is literally better" person in my inbox, cuz my provider is awesome and straight up encourages me to experiment and understand how to diy if I want to.

After a while on 6mg/day sublingual, I switched to injections. My initial prescribed injection dose was 4mg/week EV, which, based on the transfemme HRT simulator (I know, I know, I don't like it, it gives only vauge approximations and shouldn't be taken as a rule, but its good to think about the ballpark sometimes) should have put me at ~200pg/mL at midpoint, when I was last measured, and ~100pg/mL or higher at trough. Instead, I was at ~120 at midpoint.

In response, my provider said that I could experiment if I was willing to put myself through it. I said yes. I went from 4mg/week to an 8mg injection. That is way over any standard SubQ EV dose. I physically felt it being too high, and I had a few side effects at peak (headache, irritability, cramps, bloat, and stomach problems), so I went down to 7mg, which seems to be fine. I'm going to go down to 6, which is where my provider probably said I'm at, because I know my baseline is increasing at the same time, and I'll be tested again next week. If 6 turns out too low, I'll bump back up to 7 and probably stay there.

I think my body has a weird aversion to hormones of any kind. My T tanked almost instantly, even on low dose sublingual monotherapy, but I've struggled to raise my E even with that. Maybe I just have a very vigilant liver, or shit, I also could be intersex. Whatever it is, my dosages are something I'm very aware of and experimenting with.

[marlenemckinn]

Happy New Year

I didn't really want to put this on my real life social media, so I'll share my thoughts on going into the New Year here... I've been through terrible years and have trauma pile on trauma in the past. I think let it all build through out my twenties and I made it to my thirties and thought I was managing to be kind of happy. I should have realized when I stopped doing things I love over the last few years or when I couldn't stop the anxiety and spiraling or when I would just solely focus on having as much going on at once to drown out the thoughts. Then this year came along and kicked my fucking ass. I was dragged down even lower than I thought I could get to, in all honesty I probably should have gone on a grippy sock vacation. I pulled away from everyone in my life by cutting everyone out. For months I couldn't get out of bed after I left a shitty living situation and a flare up of my autoimmune disease. I couldn't even get myself to go to therapy. I was hardly eating or brushing my teeth or taking a shower. I was just rotting away and hated when I had to be alone in the house because I was worried I'd decide that I'd actually choose to cease to exist. I never said that out loud because I didn't want to worry anyone, which is fucking ridiculous. And I know that mental healthcare available in my state if terrible so that's another layer. The lowest into the first week of October when my PCP all but begged me to see a psychiatrist, which I did, and I think Russ saved my life and if it were ethical I'd buy him a gift and take him to dinner. He read me like a book and instead of being put off because I'm normally so good being a closed book, I was relieved. When my upped dosage didn't work he prescribed me Wellbutrin and guess what? It worked. Well, started to. I started to feel better, I started to want to do things. I went food shopping and showered. It wasn't perfect because it was hard to adjust the first week then I dipped again. So then he upped my dose again and it's worked. I got out of bed, I wasn't sleeping for 14 hours a day. My parents pointed out I was laughing and talking happily. I picked up hobbies and actually unpacked after 5 months. Hell, I went back to work after the same amount of time (and god I could write a love letter to my job, which as someone who hates capitalism should say a lot. Everyone has just been so supportive). I haven't made it back to the office and I haven't really seen my friends, but I'm taking the steps. I realized the other day that I can get out of bed, even on days where I don't want to. Before I would just take the day off because I felt awful and couldn't manage to roll out of bed. I'm not digging into myself when things don't go the way I want. I'm actually writing again consistently and that should say a lot. But this is all to say I didn't think I'd see in 2025 at one point this year. Here I am though, a little over an hour away. Even though I'm stressed about what's to come because of politics, I'm not rotting away in bed. I'm actually ready for it and I'm thrilled to actually just be able to feel okay and feel okay about feeling that way too.

[keouil]

no demon under can ever dissever

"you're kidding," yuji deadpans. "gojo-sensei and ieiri-san?!" 4k. gojo/shoko. fluff. also on ao3.

Yuji has a bone to pick with any form of medical care.

It's not the constant monitoring of his vitals by the hour or the long bill of health detailing his recommended—but very strongly implemented—dosage of vitamins that irks him. Not really. In fact, Yuji actually liked playing grown up: adults need to take vitamins to do adult things. And with all the saving other people thing he still has much to do of, he needed to be as strong as possible. And to be as strong as possible, in the jujutsu world, that apparently also meant weekly trips to the clinic. 

Yuji doesn't mind all of that. What he minds, really, is the constant poking and prodding at his skin. 

"Ieiri-san," Yuji gulps down at the particularly long needle in front of him. Up close the silver felt menacing. "Is that. Is that all really necessary?"

Yuji is embarrassed to count how many times he's been shoved into the medical gurney just his first month alone, but Shoko never comments on any of it. His growing apprehension of needles is only marginally decreased in the knowledge she was extremely skilled, surgeon hands and all. But sometimes the glinting of the injection still gets to him.

"Itadori-kun," Shoko appraises him over over her mask. But he could still see the easy smile tugging at her eyes. "Don't worry. I'll go slower this time."

Yuji heaves a sigh of relief, mouth already open to express his gratitude, when they hear a decidedly pointed scoff from somewhere in the corner. 

Shoko's smile vanishes from her face immediately. "What."

Gojo coughs, head turned to the side in obvious defiance. Why he insisted on coming with Yuji to all these check-ups went beyond him. The first few times were a given, after all he was formerly declared dead and it seemed right to hold his hand all the way to recovery because Yuji had been a blubbering mess and Shoko is really, really kind. But he was better now, more grounded in this body and this skin. 

But evidently Gojo thought otherwise, if the open scowl on his face was any indication.

"Spit it out, Gojo," Shoko turns to him, hand on her hip. "We don't have all day."

"Three months," is all Gojo mumbles under his breath, still refusing to turn their way. His chin was upturned, nose raised in dissent. 

Yuji strained his ears to hear. "T-three months? What does that mean?"

Gojo pushes himself off the wall, crossing his arms and sauntering over to the bed. His eyes were on Yuji's but his tone was directed at Shoko. "Three months," he says again, a hint of passive-aggressiveness filtering through. "You've known this kid for three months and already it's Itadori-kun."

Yuji blinks. What, he thinks, at the same time Shoko says exactly, "What."

The bed dips under Gojo's weight, settling himself next to Yuji. He had his glasses off, a rare occasion in itself, but something Yuji came to expect the moment they open the doors to the clinic and he was already reaching to tug them off. 

"How long have we known each other, Shoko?" Gojo gestures to her.

Yuji braves a glance at Shoko, who looked ready to point the needle his way instead. That would work in his favor, actually. Sighing, she says, "Not this again."

"I only mean," Gojo nods to Yuji, who was starting to feel like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. "It's easy for you to address other people properly. Itadori-kun this, Megumi-kun that. Even Nanami gets a kun."

"Get to the point," Shoko waves a hand impatiently.

"Why is it still Gojo for me?"

Yuji blanches. My god, he thought. Is this what they’re really fighting about? He’ll be the first to admit he really hasn't been there for a long enough time to comment on anyone's name-calling preferences. But it had been so painfully clear, even before Megumi took him and Nobara aside one day and spilled all the Gojo secrets he knew in the spirit of team camaraderie, that the doctor who healed him and his teacher had a history. 

It's not an obvious thing, this history, and really Yuji only managed to confirm after a while: but when Gojo told him to go ahead after his resurrection, and he went down the wrong trek back to the dorms and found himself outside the clinic again, and he hears him tell her Thank you. I owe you one. in probably the most somber tone he'd hear Gojo take with any of them: that's when Yuji knew.

Ah, he thought then. So that's history.

"This emotional manipulation didn't work when Megumi was twelve and had measles," Shoko points out, going back to sterilizing her tools. "And it won't work now. Now if you insist on being here every single time I poke this kid, you might as well be useful."

Yuji turns to look at Gojo, expecting some of the mirth he's always used to. Only he's surprised then when he sees a corner of his eye trail after her. He'd never seen Gojo like that: almost.. sad.

"Hold him down."

Sorry, what?

Yuji doesn't have time to dwell on the newfound realization his teacher was capable of other emotions aside from playful and arrogant, because in the next moment Gojo springs back to life and says "Gladly!" with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, and Yuji is once again reminded how much he detested any forms of medical care.

-

Yuji is starting to suspect Gojo has a hidden agenda.

He has no way of asking her just yet, but he's pretty sure Nobara isn't as called into the clinic as often as he was. Granted she wasn't secretly harboring an age-old curse that really was just a fancier way of calling Sukuna an old, bitter hag. Even Megumi, who he is absolutely sure is everyone's secret favorite if Yaga personally monitoring his mission progress and Ijichi taking extra care to make sure all his needs were attended was any indication, is somehow miraculously not spending every weekend holed up in the clinic. 

No, instead it is Yuji, on day three of being tied into different lines of IV drips and having to pee from a catheter that is inconvenienced. 

"Is this okay, Itadori-kun?" Shoko pokes around the IV bag hooked up next to his bed, shifting it around so it wasn't poking into his skin. Really, he should be grateful. But he's fifteen so he's mostly just bored. "It's all good, thank you, Ieiri-san." 

It's not until a month before the Kyoto Goodwill Event, however, that Yuji understands Gojo’s hidden agenda. 

"Good morning to my lovely student and his lovely doctor!" Gojo says barging in, an arm full of The Little Bakery doughnuts and the other expertly balancing two cups of coffee. He is sunlight filtered in, Yuji thinks, but even brighter somehow when he turns to regard Shoko. "How's our patient today, doctor?"

"His vitals are good," she comments dryly, mumbling her thanks when Gojo passes her a coffee. "We'll have to keep him overnight though."

Yuji internally cursed at Sukuna. Really, the old man couldn't have picked a better time to spontaneously play with his body and make him a few degrees hotter than any normal human being or have his heart set to permanently erratic than right now? Yuji had movies to watch, strengthening up to do, friends to stay alive for. This whole vessel thing was really putting a damper on his plans.

But again, evidently, Gojo thought otherwise.

"Yay! Sleepover!" Gojo gushes, diving straight for the nearest bed and settling into the cushions. "And because you're sick, we'll let you pick the movie tonight, Yuji-kun!"

Shoko looked like she was a second away from exploding.

"Gojo," she squares him with a glare. "I don't know how many times I have to say it, but under no circumstance are you allowed to spend any time longer than necessary in my clinic."

Gojo pouts, hugging a pillow to his chest. "But—"

"I keep telling you I'm more than capable of looking after your kid," Shoko turns to him fully, and Yuji can see some of her usual professional detachment thaw. History, it was, he thinks. "After all these years, don't you trust me?"

Yuji flickers a glance at Gojo, too invested in the drama now to care if he was potentially overstepping. The mirth in his eyes was still there, however slightly dulled by her question, but there nonetheless.

"Shoko," he stands up and stops just a breath's hair away. He then says in a low voice, "You know I trust you with my life."

If Shoko was surprised at the surprisingly earnest tone he said it, she didn't let it show. 

Instead, her eyes sharpen. "Then why are you always here for their check-ups?" she gestures to Yuji. "Why are you always hovering over my shoulder like you expect me to hurt him? Why are you always double-checking his safety seals? I'm not sure if you noticed this, but I'm actually good at my job."

"I know you are," Gojo responds right away. Yuji sees his fingers flex at his side, noting how much of an effort it took for him to still. "I don't doubt that. Not in the slightest. It's not you I don't trust."

"Then who is?"

Gojo slowly turns his head. Yuji baulks. "M-me?" he sputters. "Sensei, I would never—"

Gojo shakes his head. "Not you, Yuji-kun," he sighs. "I trust you too, you know that."

Shoko raises her brow. "Then what is it?"

Gojo faces her, and there's a beat of silence that passes, silence that's a little too long but maybe just right for people with history. 

"It's Sukuna."

And that's when Yuji understands, finally, the gravity of it all: Gojo hovered because Sukuna hovered. Gojo, busy and as in-demand as he was, stayed until the end of all his visits because Sukuna didn't operate on a schedule and was unpredictable like that. Gojo insisted on being there for the little and big things because Sukuna didn’t pick and choose which was which. It is for Yuji, this constant surveillance, he knows: but when he sees realization color Shoko's face and her gaze soften in understanding, awareness that if anything happened at any time and at any point she was in a room with Sukuna, that Gojo wanted to be there: Yuji thinks maybe it's for her too.

"Oh," Shoko says, and then: "I see."

-

"You're kidding," Yuji deadpans. "Gojo-sensei and Ieiri-san?!"

Yuji is finally back from the land of the living dead and was now being force-fed dango all the way from Kyoto. Did you go down a size? Megumi frowned as he loaded up his plate, looking suspiciously over his uniform. Is that, Nobara gasped out surveying his face. Are those bags under your eyes? If they were at all grateful for his formerly dead status not being dead, they had a peculiar way of showing it. But having spent a month in total isolation, Yuji could do with peculiar.

The moment they got settled in, he of course had to go into a play-by-play about the month he'd been through. That's when Megumi finally let slip a rather important detail in the Gojo Satoru lore he withheld from them for months all because he thought it wasn't important.

"You idiot!" Nobara twisted the flesh on his elbow. "Of course it's important! We need to know who our sensei is dating if we ever have plans to blackmail him successfully!"

Megumi rubbed at the swollen part of his arm, blinking. "Ah," he nods in understanding. "Well then. That should be no problem. They're not dating."

Yuji wants to smack him over the head. 

Nobara beats him to it.

"Get your stories straight!" Nobara yells. "One minute they're together, the next they're not. Jesus Christ, Fushiguro, you are such a shit gossip."

Megumi looked back and forth between her and Yuji incredulously, unbelieving of his sudden and violent fate. "You told us you were surprised they were closer than you thought," he regards Yuji. "And I just agreed. How is that saying anything about them being together or not?"

"Power of deduction, you fool," Nobara steals his plate of takoyaki, ignoring his protests. Yuji pushes his plate towards him. "We've been speculating about them ever since we saw Gojo-sensei come out of the clinic after midnight."

Yuji almost spits out his drink. "He did what?!"

"They were classmates," Megumi reminds them, dismissive of the idea. Yuji thinks it's half because for most his life he thinks of them as his only two guardians, his own words, and refuses to even consider the idea. "It's only natural they're close."

"Fushiguro, I say with the utmost respect for you," Nobara bats her eyes at him sweetly, before slicing it into a glare. "But shut the fuck up. You clearly don't know enough shit about this to have any formidable opinion."

Megumi finally raised his hands in surrender. "Yes, cause they only brought me up for the better part of ten years! Ieiri-san is my emergency contact, you know!"

Nobara waves him off and turns to Yuji. "So then what else happened?"

"Well," Yuji shrugs. "They just talk a lot. Like a lot, a lot. Hours even. One time I woke up in the middle of the night and I heard her asking him if he filed his taxes correctly for the year and not to wait until the last minute to do it. It's mostly boring, adult stuff. But I think that's the most I've heard Ieiri-san open her mouth since I got here. Gojo-sensei is surprisingly a good listener."

Nobara is noting all of it down on her phone. "Of course, of course," she nods along. "Any 18+ stuff you can share?"

Megumi starts to pale dramatically, covering his ears. "Oi, Kugisaki," he breathes out. "Time and place!"

"Shut up, pretty boy," Nobara snaps at him. "Mom and Dad fuck sometimes."

Now there was no mistaking the color draining from Megumi's face. He turns away from them defiantly and starts reciting a curse speech all the while still covering his ears, and Yuji fights a laugh, because the move had been so Gojo. Nobara ignores all that and turns to Yuji again.

"Anything else?" Nobara urges. "I have a running bet with the girls. Half of them are convinced he's gay while the other half argues that he's just asexual."

This time Yuji does laugh. "And whose side are you on?"

"Please," Nobara scoffs. "I'm practically going to be bathing in riches when this all blows over. Have you seen the way he looks at her?"

-

Megumi, unlike the rest of the student body population, actually doesn't mind getting his monthly check-ups.

"You look a little tired," Shoko frowns over at him from his patient file. "Are you sleeping well, Megumi-kun?"

This is always the first thing Shoko asks him. If it isn't Are you eating well? or How is Tsumiki doing? it is his neurotic sleeping schedule that she's always grilling him on. Megumi has a sneaking suspicion Gojo reports back to her when curfew hits and the lights on his room still don't turn off, because yes, he actually did catch Gojo loitering about the student dorms late at night and checking to see if everyone was accounted for. He'd been doing it since they were kids, when he had to leave for a late night mission and couldn't find a babysitter in time so he tucked them in himself instead of sleeping on the floor like he usually did. 

"As well as can be," Megumi replies honestly, because she'll know. "The Kyoto Exchange is in a few days. So."

"I heard about that," Shoko leans over to put the stethoscope to his chest, instructing him to breathe in and out. "Are you excited?"

Megumi thinks on it, letting the familiar hum and drum of the clinic and its sterile scent ground him. "I think more than excited," he says after a while, contemplative. "I just look forward to seeing everyone again."

Shoko tilts her head. "Even Todo?"

Megumi pouts. "Nevermind."

This time the laugh came from somewhere around Shoko's desk, where Megumi finds Gojo with his legs propped up against her table and reading over her patient notes. Confidential patient notes, as Shoko liked to always remind him when he snatched them away and held them above her head. If I get sued for any confidentiality breach, Shoko glared up at him. You're paying all the legal fees. 

"Excuse him," Shoko rolls her eyes. "He's just bitter he didn't get to do any exchange program during our time."

"Bullshit rule if you ask me," Gojo’s head snaps up. "Why shouldn't special grades participate?"

"Cause if you had played," Shoko reminds him warily. "Then Nanami wouldn't have won and secured the Grade 1 promotion then."

"I was already going to recommend him myself!" Gojo says, huffing. "If only he just waited a few more years! Impatient little brat!"

Megumi was used to the rhythm and meter of their banter: always playful, sometimes an inside joke, but Gojo never taking it too far and Shoko always begrudgingly forgiving him in the end. It's a dynamic he's used to and has slotted himself into with effort: because for as much as Shoko cared about him now, and he knows she does, it wasn't always like that. For awhile he knows all Shoko saw when she saw his face was the man who had so badly beaten up her best friend's faces her hands shook for a week after. 

And Megumi knows this too because Gojo had tirelessly reminded him: I'm alive today because of that woman, he says. She is a little cold, and maybe a little mean. But when I'm on death's door and there's no one left to save me, bring me to her.

"How about you, Megumi-kun?" Shoko snaps the stethoscope back and pats him on the back. For what, he never knew, she just did it. "Are you eyeing to move up?"

"For that brat to move up," Gojo mumbles hotly from the side. "He'd actually need to have the greed for it."

Shoko gestures at Megumi patiently, smiling. "Ignore the boogeyman. Not everyone is as opportunistic as he is."

"I don't really care, to be honest," Megumi admits. "I just wanna do my job well. That's all."

This seems to appease Shoko, who looked like she was just shy of hugging him. It was an answer that was more her than it was him, he knew, and evidently Gojo knew as well: because when Megumi sneaks a glance at him, there is a ghost of a smile on his face. And suddenly everything made sense. 

Contrary to popular belief, Megumi isn't actually as dense. No matter how much Nobara insists he is.

He knows Gojo and Shoko share a history, he'd be dumb not to profile his newly appointed legal guardian otherwise, if anything for the sake of knowing who was going to be introduced into his and Tsumiki's life so suddenly. 

There was a best friend in the picture, who suddenly wasn't, and the Gojo he knew then couldn't be further from how he was now: open, light, a weight that was easy to breathe in. It was hard to be around Gojo during those times, so often sulking and brooding. It wasn't until Shoko was called in the middle of the night because Tsumiki was coughing up blood and Gojo was disoriented that Megumi first saw it: that first break in detachment, this first slate of genuine vulnerability. Pain had been his mask and all it took was a few choice words from her — Pull yourself together, Gojo. These kids aren't a charity case for you to spill your grief into — to sober him up. 

"I—" Gojo startled, looking between Shoko and Megumi, who hid behind her clutching her skirt. "I'm—"

"Clear your head," Shoko pointed at the door, chest heaving. "I'll take care of this."

Jujutsu sorcerers are born with pain built in, Shoko told him quietly that night, after she fed Tsumiki some healing tea and they were tucking her in to sleep. Megumi could only look on in wonder as her fingers gently combed through his sister's hair, voice light as silk. But Gojo has somehow convinced himself he's going to die drowning in it. It's—it's not permanent. We’ll get him back and we'll get through it.

They walk together at night sometimes. Shoko insisted they get some air after being cooped up in the apartment for too long, Gojo readily agreeing and already shrugging a jacket on.

And it's then sometimes, too, Megumi sees: Gojo's hand at the small of her back, glasses off and eyes glued to her face and hanging off her every word; and the general timbre of his body, so closely attuned and listening in, on hers. He can't help but think maybe this is the part that comes after the grief. That maybe they'd really somehow braved through it, stronger but softer somehow. And maybe they aren't together—maybe not just yet—but did it really matter? 

When Gojo himself says bring him to her at death's door, thinks Megumi, there is no love that could ever contain that.

[noneedtoamputate]

Hellooo! Could I request #3. Gold and/or #19. Honouring for a pairing of your choice for the November prompts please? Thank you! <3

Thanks so much for the ask! This prompt help me get out of my writing funk, so I hope you like it. It's mostly number three, but I snuck in number nineteen, too.

Chuck straddled that state where he could go back to sleep for another hour or force himself to stretch and start the day. 

Still debating which option to take, he noticed the room smelled unfamiliar. The bedspread felt different, too.

The awake part of his brain asked questions. The asleep part mumbled one-word answers.

Why does the bed feel different? 

Hotel.

Why am I in a hotel?

Wedding.

Why is there a ring on my finger?

Married.

He sat up quickly and saw his tux and her blue negligee scattered on the floor. He remembered City Hall, and the courtroom, and Ellen walking down the short aisle in a white dress, carrying a bouquet of tulips, looking so beautiful he had to take a deep breath to stop the tears that welled up in his eyes. He remembered her putting the ring on his finger, as she promised to love and honor him all the days of her life. 

He looked to his right. His wife had escaped his spoon sometime during the night, her bare back just peeking out from the cover. 

His wife.

He wanted to wake her up, wrap his arms around her, and start where they left off the night before, but they had the rest of the day for that, didn’t they?

They had the rest of their lives.

Instead, he let her sleep, and he twirled the band with his right thumb and pointer finger. 

He remembered asking her about the rings - plural, with an s - and her face turned up with a shy, surprised smile. 

“You’re going to wear a ring?” she asked. 

More and more guys wore rings nowadays, but it wasn’t at all assumed. Ellen clearly hadn’t assumed it, given her reaction.

He nodded. “Doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one who gets gold out of this whole thing,” he said sarcastically, then looked at her, serious this time.

“And I love you.”

That was the main reason he wanted to wear a ring, that he loved her. But there was another reason, too, a reason so personal that he didn’t feel he could share it with Ellen, the person he trusted more than anyone.

Through time and hard work, his injuries improved. He speech, although slow, wasn’t halting like it had been even a few years ago. He learned what triggered his migraines, so he didn’t have them as often. Pain medication helped, and he worked with his doctor on the correct dosage. 

But his left hand never improved. The countless hours at the occupation therapist and the physical therapist and doing exercises at home didn’t make a difference. 

His hand look completely normal. Unless someone knew or looked very closely at how it hung slightly strange, no one would guess it was paralyzed. Even last night, the bellhop gave him a look when he carried in his suitcase and Ellen held her own. 

Making the lady carry her own bag, his smirk seemed to shout at Chuck. 

He’d stare at his hand, willing it to do what he wanted. The anger, even hate, he had for it was strong. At times, he thought it would have been better if it had been blown off or amputated. It would be gone, not mocking him. No one would expect him to use this useless appendage. Then he would think of Toye or Bill or the other poor bastards who had actually lost limbs and feel like an asshole for his bout of self-pity. But he didn’t know how or if he would ever get over it.

After the engagement, he noticed the men wearing rings. For the first time in six years, he looked at his left hand was glad it was still there, glad it could still do one thing he wanted it to do.

His left hand wasn’t useless now, even if he couldn’t grab or hold. It had a purpose. Look, I’m Ellen Grant’s husband. She could have her pick of anyone, and she chose me. 

He felt her roll over to his side of the bed. 

“Good morning. How’s my wife?” he asked.

“Exhausted, in a good way,” she said, sleepily. “And hungry, in a bad way. Can we go downstairs and get breakfast?”

He straddled her and shook his head. “Room service,” he answered.

He called in the order. Steak and eggs, French toast, a carafe of coffee, and a pot of tea. 

“You have thirty minutes,” she said, challenging him, kissing his neck and raking her nails down his chest.

Chuck wouldn’t tell her today - there were other things to do, in this room with the enormous bed, in this hotel where people made and delivered food when asked. But one day, when they were driving to the grocery store or sitting on a porch swing, he would tell the woman he loved the other reason why he wanted to wear a wedding ring. 

After all, they had the rest of their lives.

[fringediiris]

Another Dream

(mind the tags underneath the post.)

The moonlight hits my face through the window, and the last notions of sleep quickly leave me. This isn’t my room, though. The window hangs open, allowing a gentle wind to billow through the translucent curtains. I’m laying in a queen sized bed, and the duvet is this tacky, ornate design that no doubt costs way more than it’s actually worth. There’s no way in Hell I’d decorate a room like this. It’s uncomfortably empty, save for the bed and a mossy green wardrobe with peeling paint. I look up to the moon, squinting as if the light hurts my eyes. 

Before I can think better of it, I crawl out of the window. My feet hit dirt and grass and gravel all at once. I don’t mind it. The pain keeps me alert. I let myself wander, ‘cause I can’t shake the feeling that I have somewhere I’m supposed to be going— and eventually, I find it.

A freshly dug grave. It’s shallow, definitely less than 6 feet, and there’s only a thin layer of dirt between me and whatever poor idiot is buried here. Whoever buried this guy did a real shitty job. I hop down into the grave. This is definitely illegal, but it never occurs to me that I could get caught. It’s like the possibility doesn’t even exist. Despite the grave’s shallowness, I dig until my hands feel raw. And then I dig some more. My fingers start bleeding. And then I hit wood. Sweet. 

I don’t know why I’m doing this— why I’m so desperate to open this casket. I just feel like I have to. Like if I don’t, it’ll gnaw at me, eating away at my resolve until I do. Temptation is a beast that I wish not to fight. My dirt-covered, bleeding hands search for a way to open the lid. When they find it, I hesitate. What if I know whoever’s buried here? I shake my head to dispel the thoughts and rip the lid off. It takes me a second to recognize who I’m looking at. 

It’s me. A peaceful, content me. Smiling sweetly, angelic expression haloed by the moonlight. He’s holding a mountain lily between delicate, uncalloused, clean hands. Something twists inside my gut. There’s no way I’m going peacefully. There’s no way I’ve ever felt at peace, at ease. I’ve never felt peaceful in my entire life. This ‘me’ is already dead, so why do I feel my fingers twitch? Why do my hands wrap around his throat, desperate to make his expression change? This ‘me’ is obviously better off. Why am I disgusted by the idea of a life where I can smile like that? A life where I can be sure that my hands are devoid of blood? 

Do I have to destroy everything that’s better off than I am? Maybe ‘I’ deserve it. Maybe ‘I’ need to see reality, to get a little dosage of what the world is really like—My hands press down, squeezing. I strangle the corpse. And for some reason, ‘my’ hands release the Mountain Lily ‘I’ have been holding, and grabs my arms, trying to rip them away from ‘my’ neck.

Instead of hesitating, I keep choking him. I don’t even question why ‘I’m’ not dead— It doesn’t matter. Not now. The only thing that matters is showing ‘me’ the truth. That you don’t get to smile. You don’t get to go peacefully. You don’t deserve it. You’ll cling to life until your last breath is ripped away from you. You won’t go quietly into that good night. 

 If only because you haven’t earned it.

-- My writing, dated 2/7/23

[muskmelon-enjoyer-199x]

it's officially november 2024. I can't believe ive been on HRT for 10 years. I want to feel accomplished, but I don't.

Im just kind of sad about things. I had to do so much stupid shit that I never wanted to do and jump through so many hoops and wait for so long and hurt myself a whole lot and pretend to be someone else at appointments just to get these meds, and I still have to do it all the time. It just blows. Sometimes, they don't even bother giving me the correct dosages. They laugh and cut the dose, or they just don't send the refill into the pharmacy for a week. "An error." One time, I called the insurance company refill hotline in desperation. The guy that answered the first time was in Alabama and he just said my meds were too dangerous to refill and hung up. The second guy was in Minnesota, and he said similar but tried to justify himself. Apparently, there was a serious risk of cervical cancer. I told him i didn't have a cervix to get cancer in because I have a penis and that I felt ill without my meds, but he told me we still couldn't rule out the risk. Whatever. I will spend my whole day's wages on price-gauged meds online. I don't care. I will order more if I have to. I will take them without blood tests if you don't put in my lab orders. I will lie to you and stop taking my meds the night before my test if I know you are just going to say my estrogen levels are "dangerously high" every time I go in. I'll shut my mouth if you're just going to tell me I know nothing about this treatment I've been doing with and without medical supervision every day for 10 years. I don't care. Why do I have to do this shit?

I lost all my before-times friends because I was a total asshole and didnt care about anything, and then the rest left for other reasons. They either didn't like my lifestyle or just drifted away because I had to move 100 miles away to even get a realistic chance to transition. Everybody but my wife leaves. I love her so much. Even other trans people leave. They get caught up in their own problems and ghost me, or i get caught up in mine and ghost them. Some of them aren't alive anymore or probably aren't alive anymore. Nobody cares how you felt about them or how much you trusted them, though. To them, they're just names on a screen. They never understand how it feels, for some reason. It's weird having to socialize online out of necessity and then having the value of those relationships diminished by people who reject you categorically. I feel like those relationships were often realer, anyways. She couldnt make eye contact with you, but she was in our chat talking about wanting to die and boys she wished gave her the time of day. Yeah, i mostly called her a fake name. We all have a bunch of them. I still liked her a lot better than you, and she knew way more about me than my parents.

Whatever. I'm tired. Goodnight and happy Halloween and November

It's been 10 years and now I have woman sadness instead of twink sadness. Maybe I can schedule a surgery consult by the end of the year

Whatever

[lovemesomesurveys]

1. What is something in your life that you feel hopeful about right now? Well, I finally tried edibles to see if it helps my anxiety at all, as well as my insomnia, appetite, and pain. I’ve had horrible anxiety, more so than ever, this past year and the medications my doctor would allow weren’t working. I was feeling really hopeless and scared. The only thing that did seem to help was my pain med, which of course isn’t its intended purpose but I was taking it for that as well, which wasn’t good. I finally decided to give edibles a try with the hope of course of it actually helping me and to also take less pills. 

2. What was the last thing you worried about that turned out better than expected? Well, I’ve been trying this new regimen for the past week now and figuring out the right dosages and how many a day and  so far it is working. I have definitely cut back on the pills, which is really good. 

3. Name somewhere you are planning on visiting in the near future? I sadly have no travel plans. I’m hoping perhaps my new “medication” will help me feel motivated and have the desire to want to get up out of bed more and perhaps at least take a drive to the beach and park as close as we can so I can enjoy it from the car. I’d take that over nothing right now. I really miss the beach. :( Like I said, though, I’m still playing around with the correct amount and what type I take for what. I need a mood lifter kind. While it has helped some of my issues, it also makes me really tired and have zero energy which is not helpful if I want to go somewhere.

4. How often do you go grocery shopping and how much food do you usually get in one go? My mom goes twice a month for our big grocery trips. We get a lot of stuff.

5. What is a meal you eat extremely often? Or do your meals & food choices vary a lot? I have cream of wheat for breakfast, Taco Bell at least 4-5 times a week, and I have a sandwich for lunch just about everyday. I have pizza fairly often, too. It’s so wild how my appetite has changed since being home from the hospital because prior to I ate a lot of chicken, particularly chicken wings. I had that all the time before and now it’s rare for me to get chicken wings or chicken strips. I don’t know why.

6. When was the last time you felt unable or unwilling to speak your mind to someone? That’s kinda just how I am for the most part. I’d like to speak up to a couple people, but I just want to cause any drama or hurt anyone’s feelings. I just imagine the conversation going completely wrong and everything getting twisted. I won’t be able to say what I want to say in the right way. I’m getting hurt, too, but it’s best I just don’t say anything.

7. What was the last thing you changed your mind about? I don’t recall.

8. Who was the last friend you saw, and what did you do together? I don’t have any friends.

9. Who tends to show up in your dreams? Do you ever wonder if you appear in anyone else's dreams? I always have random people pop up in my dreams for some reason. Like people I know, but I’m talking like for example this kid I went to elementary and middle school with. We weren’t friends, but acquaintances. I didn’t have a crush on him or anything either. Sooo, I really have no idea why he’s the one to pop up on my dreams randomly. 

10. What is something you wish you could say to someone who is no longer in your life, or something you wish they could know? I sometimes wish I could talk to Ty again and tell him some things, but I guess at this point it really doesn’t matter.

11. Instead of flat earth, what do you think of the simulated earth theory, that we're basically all just a giant computer program or virtual reality? Nah.

12. What worries you most about your future? I’m truly afraid of getting worse or never getting much better. I’m afraid of living a life mainly stuck in bed or at home. I’m afraid I won’t be able to travel again or go places. My future terrifies me.

13. What is something you do to feel better when you're scared? I have to just try to distract myself somehow. 14. Who do you feel you can count on the most in life? Is there anyone you wish you could count on more? My mom, 100%. I know I always can.

15. What makes you trust someone? When was the last time someone broke your trust? It’s usually just unless I have a reason or feeling that I shouldn’t. You just kind of vibe with someone and gauge how comfortable you feel and how much you want to share. 

16. When was the last time you shared a secret with someone, and how did they react? I don’t recall. 

17. Are you more likely to give advice or to ask for it? I used to be the one friends came to for advice all the time, but I’m certainly in no place to be giving advice to anyone right now. I also don’t ask for it generally. Very rarely. I keep a lot of shit to myself. 

18. When was the last time you felt totally lost, figuratively speaking? How about literally? >> I constantly feel lost, figuratively speaking. I almost never feel lost, literally speaking. <<<

19. In what ways are you emotionally strong? In what ways are you emotionally weak? I feel extremely weak emotionally. And physically.

20. What is the strangest book you have ever read? How did you find out about it? One of them that randomly came to mind is “The Giver.”

21. Do you prefer to watch movies or tv alone or with other people? Is there anything you refuse to watch alone? I much prefer watching with others. My mom, brother, and I have several shows we watch together. I find it fun to have someone to react and obsess with. 

22. What was the last thing you broke? How about fixed? I don’t recall.

23. Is there a sign or symbol that means a lot to you for whatever reason (eg. seeing certain animals or birds, 11:11 or other repeating numbers, syncs, butterflies, hearts in nature, etc)? My favorite number since I was a kid has been 8. That number comes up a lot in my life, too. The number 9 does as well. I don’t know what it means, if anything, but it’s interesting. 

24. Do you have any personal ghost stories or paranormal experiences? No.

25. What do you get complimented on the most? Ha, nothing anymore. I’m a mess. 

26. What is something unusual that you find attractive? I find hands attractive, but I think that’s not so unusual or uncommon. I can’t think of anything that would be “unusual.”

27. What time do you tend to eat your first meal of the day? And your last? I tend to eat around 11 or 12PM and my last meal around 8. 

28. What was the subject of the last video you watched? I’m watching a YouTuber that does a lot of videos on abandoned places and companies that went bankrupt and/or closed down. The one I’m watching now is about Bed, Bath, & Beyond. 

29. When was the last time you traveled out of town, and where to? Over a year ago to the beach. 

30. How would you describe your overall aesthetic? I don’t know, man.

[happyavenueluminary]

At the age of 16 I had such a big mental breakdown that I had to drop out of school. I've always been a gifted kid and I got great grades in school. Everyone was proud and it was what I was good at so I made it a big part of who I am as a person. Then in middle school but especially high school I realized it wasn't so easy and I started freaking out when my grades were less than 90. Nobody was pressuring me no one was disappointed in me. My parents were proud of me no matter what. I was the one that was disappointed. I was pressuring myself to get perfect grades. I always procrastinated until the last minute and it felt like I took twice as long as it did for everyone else. I never wanted to do my homework so I would do other things instead and then I would have to stay up really late to finish my homework. My lack of sleep along with my OCD (which has just recently became a problem and continued to get worse day by day) led me to drop out of school and become depressed. I then went to a doctor who diagnosed me for the first time and gave me a prescription for antidepressants. Slowly I've been getting better. I went back to school. And now I'm a junior in college. Although, my dosage of medicine is much higher than normal. I think I'm doing good now. I still haven't quite decided who I am as a person if I'm not the "smart" kid but I don't know that anyone in college knows who they are.

people misunderstand what ‘gifted kid’ actually means but it’s ok it’s fine it’s cool it’s good

[werewolvc]

hello!

I’ve been doing a bunch of side quests lately. Trying to get the hang of full time work and taking college classes again. I think I need a way to tell my job that I am physically at capacity with the work load they have me on due to staffing issues. So all January was just me playing catch up with life. I did get a new car out of my mental instability though so that's a win in my book.

I got to participate in a meeting for my job recently and I got to go to a hotel near the sea instead of being stuck indoors. It was cold and rainy so I didn’t get to see many sea gulls so I was a bit sad, but my new docs came in just in time for the meeting so I got to wear them all day.

January felt like it was in warp speed and suddenly it was February again. I don’t particularly like Valentine’s Day but I was looking all month for the MHA Hallmark card but had no luck finding it this year again. I did find this pokemon valentine and this cat card?

I’ve also had to change my eating habits cause having chronic abdominal pain has been unbearable and I can’t stand it anymore. I’ve cut wheat or anything with gluten from my diet. I may start cutting anything bread just to be safe. I’m especially susceptible to dairy lately so I need to see a specialist again to give me a better list of things I can eat without pain. I'm currently looking for a primary cause I need a yearly check up anyway.

hi! (comm by kyukafu on insta)

feeling more and more like I’m not real lately and more like a walking husk these days mentally but I’m thriving in real life at the moment so I can’t complain! :)

I did my final keloid injection appointment and had the most awkward experience with the doctor they gave me. He introduced himself to me as a resident working under my regular doctor and also had an intern shadowing him. I asked a lot of questions but I think I honestly startled him cause my regular doctor didn’t inform him of what he was gonna be doing when I lifted my shirt. His intern was very nice and just nodded along when he explained to me what a keloid was and the benefits of laser treatment in later years. I had only asked him if they had anything for atrophy caused by the injections, but he didn’t answer my questions at all lol. Eventually my doctor came in and advised dosage and he administered the shot. I’ve never seen someone run off so fast. Had a rude receptionist talk to me right after and at that point I just felt defeated. I also got into Pokémon go again

March is coming up and hopefully I will be able to get my life sorted better. I want to fix up my room again and possibly downsize on clothing since i gained weight and a lot of older pieces don't fit comfortably.

ANYWAY BYE!!!!

[cidpmemoir]

A Keppra Journey in America

This story starts in my gynecologist's office. I was getting a new IUD placed. I had one put in before, but that was when I was healthy. Since I've become sick, my body does not react well to any kind of stress, mental or physical.

So I'm laying there on the table, I prepare for the pain, but I pass out instead. I wake up as they are yelling my name and placing oxygen over my face. I have three doctors holding me down and the room is FULL of paramedics. And yes, I still had my legs open with all of the tools still inside of me. They tell me I had a grand mal seizure.

Now, this sort of thing has happened to me before but each time, it does seem to get worse. Apparently when I pass out, my blood pressure drops so low that it seems like a seizure, however my CT's and MRI's all clear me for seizures every time this happens.

This time, my hands were so locked up, I couldn't move them at all, my legs were in so much pain, and this was the first time I could tell I had been chewing on my tongue.

The paramedics start loading me onto a stretcher, I explain that my brother is here, he was my ride, and the hospital is across the parking lot. I protest that I really don't want an ambulance bill but all the doctors in the room strongly suggested I go with the paramedics. I was literally too out of it to argue.

At the hospital everything comes back normal, but since this has happened before, they wanted to put me on anti-seizure medication. The ER doc is staring at my chart and actually said, "I can put you on Keppra, but it does have a lot of side effects...but you take gabapentin already and THAT has a lot of side effects. This shouldn't be too different." I thought he meant drowsiness since that's the main effect I have with gabapentin. No.

Immediately after starting Keppra, I could tell my brain was firing differently. Right away I started having intrusive thoughts - what's the point of anything? why am I even trying? I should just end it all.

The rage I felt all the time, I literally didn't recognize myself during these angry moments. I could not control myself. I hated everyone and everything.

I had an appointment with my PCP right after the hospital. I told him, I can't stay on this medication. He said I have to see my neurologist but I can't quit cold turkey, that could cause more seizures/problems. I see Neuro about a month later. He takes the dosage down by half, which I appreciated but it wasn't enough. I saw my psychiatrist, she couldn't change it, my therapist couldn't change it. I called Neuro again and the soonest appointment they had was 5 months away.

I lost it. There was no way I could live with my brain like this for that long. I was going to end up hurting myself or someone else. I checked myself into a psychiatric hospital.

Once you go to a place like that, they don't just let you leave. I thought they took my insurance but apparently they didn't. Plus with my medical condition, they didn't really know what to do with me. I needed access to my ankle braces but I need to wear them with shoes. In a psych ward, they take away your shoe laces and without my laces, the shoes wouldn't stay on my feet.

They called an ambulance and relocated me to a psych ward that was inside of a hospital. They were better equipped for someone with disabilities. I spent a couple days there. They got me off Keppra, now I take Lamotrigine and everything is much better. I was able to schedule a follow-up with their Neuro doctor since I still couldn't get in early to see mine.

Insurance helped me pay for all of this of course, but I still paid over $600 for this entire experience. For something that was out of my control. Even for the ambulance ride that I was required to take.

Being sick isn't fair, but how is any of this fair??

And no, the iud was never placed.

[isolatedpolylotperson]

Jan. 20, 2025 2:09a.m.

This must mean something. I know it must.

This past year was the worst of my life. The worst when I thought I'd already hit rock bottom. In June I admitted I had a plan and was hospitalized. I said what I needed to, pushed through, went to partial, talked with professionals and was just upped on my dosage again. But I never felt better. Everyday, at some point, I would think how much I regretted admiting that I had a plan instead of just following through.

I am going back to university after being forced to take a semester off. I am leaving at 10am. I know my depression and it's symptoms only get worse when I'm there so naturally I am wary.

I'm still packing and when I went to take the trash to the curb I opened the garage door and a large deer was walking down the middle of my street in front of me. I saw him and he knew I was there but he wasn't scared. He calmly continued walking until he was out of sight.

I went back inside to get my phone and stood outside with the remaining deer all around me. I couldn't see them all but I knew they were there and I could hear they light treading. I felt something indescribable.

I have always lived in this small town and have seen many deer, but this was something I've never experienced and the timing is unbelievable. Since being discharged I have found great comfort in nature and caring for animals. When I think back, I was so lonely and yet I felt a sense of calm and acceptance when being alone in nature. It's like the deer knew this and were a sign to remember this feeling when I go back to an environment that is hard for me to live in.

It has just been so hard for me and this encounter makes me want to live- a feeling I haven't felt in a long time.

Thank you for reading. I wish you the best. We can keep living.

[peanutbutterfiles]

A week on this medication and I can definitively say it helps!!

Still figuring out the dosage though, and last night was the first for increased dosage, but I actually woke up today and felt normal for an hour before the nerve pain came back (still leagues better pain levels than when I started though)!!

And now on the increased dosage I’m experiencing a kind of cold sensation in my brows and nose (instead of a crushing feeling like my skull is going to cave in (that’s weird nerve pain for you)), and it’s making me wonder how much I really have been cold in my face vs. I’ve just been experiencing nerve pain and didn’t know that that’s what it was.

Especially because the medication is actually helping bloodflow reach my hands and feet (for the first time in my life too, I’ve ALWAYS had cold hands and feet and could never get them to warm up unless I exercise), and I felt some warmth in my nose & brow last night before I fell asleep, so I think it’s just crazy pinched in my face and has been working it’s way toward worse pinching over the years…

Still difficult to look at screens for prolonged amounts of time though, and doing small tasks or reading small text seems to make the pain/pinch worse, so I’m not entirely sure what to do there…

[dernarrleid]

TELEGRAM FROM @furiaei READS: ♬ = singing to them . ( for Kenzou <3 ) | still accepting!

Years ago, Kenzou could recall a melodious ringing. Songs from his favorite local musician making their way through rotten wood and broken glass, of the town's cheapest, dangerous pub. There weren't many of them in the city, too crowded by the bustle of the streets and endless tourists taking photo after brightly lit photograph instead of enjoying the scenery. The all-consuming night sky, lit up with a slice of the universe shown over the fields of grass, and his neighbor's vegetable garden; the only place he wouldn't be found out, the last his mother would think to look if she ever woke in the dead of night to check on him. (It rarely happened, but he always left a note for her if she bothered to look.)

The music encompassed an old, slightly out of tune guitar with the voice of a man humming sweetly, a touch buzzed from the way he'd slur his words once he began to truly sing. Notes carried well with the timber of his voice; the occasional background noise of glass breaking and cackling never bothered him. Kenzou would like to think if that voice had been projected during the day, when most of the town was out with high spirits, he could enjoy himself with the same perspective. Even then he wasn't naive to think the impossible of someone performing in drab conditions.

Still, if not for the stylings of a lowlife like that, Kenzou doubts he could appreciate the beauty of Anna's voice. His hands laid flat against his thighs, cardigan discarded almost immediately when leaving the hospital due to the heat. The moment he turned the key to his apartment he'd known something was off about the atmosphere. There were many signs upon opening the door, his eyes darted around the room for his main suspicion. Vigilance hadn't come easy after nearly two days of working nonstop, but the bright crimson of her long never went unnoticed. If Kenzou saw himself now as a child, he would absolutely think his older self had gone delirious, would demand he find better work that didn't compromise his mental well being. Yet, the idea of not having Anna in his life seemed more and more chilling by the day. His days wouldn't have the edge to them she'd undoubtedly force into every conversation by being so... eccentric. Kenzou almost felt inadequate in comparison.

Her voice in her mother tongue might be her greatest trait; the definitive reason for his attraction if he wasn't already introduce to her physical appeal. "I could listen to you all evening," he says lowly. This part of herself, he cherishes most of all. It's not everyday (or night) she indulges in an activity that truly gives him something to work it, something to piece her together. Figure her out. If she was ever willing to speak of a distant future—one filled with admittedly rose-tinted lens, the heavy loom of a bell and signifiers of devotion, he would convince his younger self to go through all the pain to took to get here. It always a form of lullaby he's never heard; not that he's disillusioned to believe he'd ever hear them all, of course. His head lolled sideways, eyes drifting with every enunciation, every rise and fall of pitch. "I'm used to handling all kinds of remedies to my patience... but maybe this is all I need every couple nights. Your voice is better than any melatonin, no matter the dosage."