#i've had like 3 hours of sleep idk if this is even coherent

[stellarbit]

i have a kinda strange ask.

so i have severe insomnia. i've done sleep studies and meds but sometimes i just CANNOT sleep, even as bad as multiple days no sleep. doctors and i are still working on a fix. it's a fucking nightmare (except i can't have nightmares if im not asleep, can i???)

i'm a very calm, quiet, logical, and collected person except when i can't sleep. then i'm a crying and genuinely insane wreck.

i would absolutely LOVE if you could do some kind of Crosshair x female reader with some kind of scenario like this. it would make me feel better. Like maybe he didn't see her sleep the previous night and finds her still awake at like 3am the next night and this normally stoic girl is just an absolute unhinged psychotic mess and he has to fix it 🤷🏻‍♀️

idk how far ur willing to go (leaving it up to you) but just as a general idea as to how i (and many other people with this problem) get without sleep, i can get kinda violent, super snippy with people, can't stop crying, impulsive, physically sick sometimes, and don't always sound coherent or refuse to listen to people even if they're trying to help me. it's not a fun mental state to be in.

i'm never sleeping so i might as well read your literature (it's like a nightly ritual i love your stuff)

thank you 🙏

I know what it's like. Insomnia kicks my ass occasionally and it wrecks me and takes days of my life away before I can finally sleep. I hope you find some rest buddy <3 alsothankyouforthecomplimentjfc

give this a listen while you read

Just Lay With Me

Word Count: 1.5k Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader SFW Warnings: insomnia kicking your ass all the way to next Sunday Summary: After a long bout of no sleep, you break and Crosshair is there to pick up the pieces. gif credit: @moonstrider9904

Sleep evaded you more and more often lately. Your new normal was turning into nights without more than an hour of dozing off. Nights that stretched into a week at a time with an occasional night of sleep, however restless. This time around the sleepless nights were quickly working their way to a month’s stretch.

After a few nights of frequently waking, two rotations went by without so much as a blink of sleep. At this point you weren’t just delirious, nausea turned your stomach and your head throbbed constantly. Every sound jarred you, pushing you to the brink of crying each time. 

Unable to string together more than a few coherent thoughts at a time, you’d planned on avoiding town the next. You were liable to snap at the smallest slight, but even in this state you knew it wasn’t fair to others.

By the time Crosshair came to find you, you were well beyond your limit.

Crosshair noticed your erratic behavior first. You’d snapped at Omega when she and Crosshair bumped into you on the street. Crosshair tried to stop you from walking off but you bit his head off too.

It was unlike you. Ordinarily, you were composed and rational—characteristics that had faded as your sleepless nights dragged on.

Your increasingly disheveled look became Crosshair’s next worry. You didn’t preen by any stretch of the imagination, but you took care of yourself and it always showed. Now, your skin took on a dull hue, your hair greasy and untamed, and dark circles gave your eyes a sunken appearance.

The night before he and Omega ran into you, Crosshair had noticed a light on in your home around 2 AM. Knowing you weren't typically up at that hour, he found it strange. The following evening, as he lay in bed, thoughts of your earlier encounter in town filled his mind. With a growing suspicion, he rose and stepped out to the patio. From there, he could see a dim light shining from your bedroom window.

He knew what insomnia looked like, had fought with it himself after being trapped on that Kaminoan platform, and didn’t want to push you if his suspicions were true. 

Then, the sound of glass shattering from your home shattered his hesitation. He leapt over the patio railing, his feet barely touching the ground as he dashed toward your house. Fortunately, your door was unlocked—an issue he noted to address later—and he entered your home in seconds.. 

He didn’t call out for you, instead choosing to quietly make his way through your space, tiptoeing through scattered blankets and clothes strewn over furniture. When he found you, you were on your kitchen floor, hunched over with your hands fisting your hair. 

Soft heaves shook your body as you rocked in place. Broken glass surrounded you, making the situation even more delicate.

Crosshair had been right, you hadn’t been sleeping.

Knowing there was no good way to break the silence, Crosshair softly called your name. Sure enough, you jumped hard and nearly slid onto a shard of glass.

Crosshair lurched forward to steady you by your upper arm only for you to rip out of his grip. You whipped your head around, hair falling in your face in a deranged look. It fit seeing as you certainly felt deranged. 

The sniper’s eyes were uncharacteristically soft, with brows slightly raised and shoulders relaxed. It felt like pity. Red hot shame flooded your system, sending you shuffling like a newborn fawn to your feet. 

In a harsh, hoarse voice you lashed out, “What are you doing here?”

Crosshair glanced at the mess around you.“Your lights were on and I heard something break.” You didn’t answer leaving only heavy silence between you. Crosshair sighed, looking back at you. “You’re not sleeping, are you?”

There wasn’t enough air for you to answer, your breath hitched into small gasps as tears warped your vision. Dipping your head back, you managed to blink back some of the wet from your eyes. With a determined shake of your head, you cleared your voice and firmly said, “I’m fine.” 

A line in the sand between you - a desperate claim to control something, anything.

His eyes on you, those sharp, all seeing, critical eyes, made your skin crawl. Not him specifically, but him seeing you as you were. This wasn’t how you wanted him to see you. Unable to stop the uncomfortable squirm that rolled through you, you waved both hands at him as if to ward him off.

“Please just leave.” Your voice was pleading, your eyes blinking furiously. 

“I’m not doing that.” Crosshair said gently. You weren’t sure if your tears, the lighting, or reality itself made Crosshair look so hazy.

Perhaps this was the next step into delirium. The thought widened your eyes with newfound fear. He’d appeared so suddenly - was he even real? Crosshair narrowed a worried look on you as a fresh, sickening feeling gripped you, spurring you back a step. Right onto a shard of glass.

You cried out, nearly collapsing, but Crosshair was quick to support you, preventing you from falling completely. The pain shooting through your foot crumbled your remaining resolve.

Crosshair swept an arm under your knees to scoop you into his arms. He hugged you close, even as you thrashed against him in fits of sobbing. He carried you to the bathroom and carefully set you on the edge of the tub.

Despite the sobs, you let Crosshair put your injured foot under the tap and rinse the blood still seeping from your wound. He felt the tremors wracking your body as he angled your foot towards him. Luckily the shard was sticking out enough that removing it would be easy enough under normal circumstances.

“I have to pull the shard out.” Crosshair said as inspected your foot. A choked sob pulled his eyes to your face again. Your lips wobbled in a devastated frown on your blotchy tear stained face.

Seeing you so fragile or haunted tore something in him knowing he could do little more than sit and watch you fall apart.

In an exhausted whisper, you confessed, “I’m so tired, Cross.”

“I know,” He whispered back and removed the shard in one swift pull.

Crosshair put your foot under the tepid water again, simultaneously pulling a towel from the rack beside him. As he dried your foot and applied pressure to the wound, he decided to share something.

“When the empire recovered me from the Kaminoan platform…” He paused on a deep breath. He hadn’t even told his brothers or Omega, but if he could do nothing else he hoped he could at least make you feel less alone.

Crosshair gently pulled you by your leg and pivoted you out of the tub. Braving vulnerability, he knelt in front of you and said, “I… I didn’t sleep for a long time. I don’t know how long, exactly, but long enough that I had to be sedated.” He smoothed a hand over your knee, adding, “I know what it’s like.”

You gave a small nod, focusing on regulating your breathing, too overwhelmed to speak. Sensing your need for comfort, Crosshair whispered, “Can I carry you to bed?” His tone was gentle, mindful not to startle you.

Your head fell forward in shame. Pressing a hand over your eyes you shook your head and mumbled, “It’s a mess.”

Crosshair couldn’t help the soft snort that came from him, drawing your head back up. A questioning, almost offended, look came over you. Crosshair didn’t ask for further permission as he came in close to you and lifted you with him. 

“You should see Tech’s room.” He teased, his breath warm on your cheek. “And he sleeps whenever he likes.”

The small joke did manage to lift your lips and you found some comfort in the cadence of his steps. He’d not yet gone this far for you. No one ever had. 

Crosshair crawled into bed with you still in his arms, pushing into your tousled duvet and placing you next to him. Leaning across you, he murmured an apology and froze before turning your light out.

Peering down past his arm at you, he swallowed before asking, “Do you mind if I stay with you?”

You didn’t think it was possible, but a small smile warbled over you. You hummed out an affirmative and rolled towards, rubbing your face into the soft fabric of his shirt. Crosshair chuckled under his breath and turned off the light.

He slid in next to you, sitting at an angle that his arms cradle around you. His made lazy trails over your back

“The kitchen-” you started.

“Tomorrow.” Crosshair cut you off. “For now, just lay with me.”

In the quiet hour, in your messy bed, in Crosshair’s arms you finally found rest.

[just-a-queer-fanboy]

Long ass ramble about special interests and vivziepop drama because the new trailer has me all the way fucked up

Uhh this starts off being like "wow I'm so weird about this cartoon I kind of hate myself for it" and then the story about how I cut myself off from my special interest (said cartoon) and ruined my mental health in the process just to avoid being weird

Never in a million years did I think a cartoon made by a tumblr girlie would have a chokehold on my psyche but here we are and I am somehow more emotionally attached to it than half the other interests in my life

Like. I'm usually super emotionally numb to almost everything but then act unhinged to seem like I'm not and to be funny but THIS FUCKING TRAILER somehow emotionally affected me?????? Is this a fever dream what the fuck

I can even tell if this is a special interest or a hyperfixation anymore but it is legitimately a part of my identity now and I don't know how to feel about that. Especially with how many allegations go around about the show and the creator and the voice actors and all this shit that never has enough evidence or explanation so you can never tell whether it's real or fake and I just fucking???????????

Like. When I first got sent a screenshot of viv allegedly being transandrophobic, I genuinely broke down. I was sobbing and shaking for 2 or 3 hours straight and I struggled to sleep for a week. My mental health was legitimately wrecked because of how strong my attachment to the creator and her work was/is. And that was DURING a period where i was the most miserable and anxious i had ever been! Then, when I told my sister why I was so stressed and showed her the screenshots, she explained to me how easily they could be faked. And it all felt so stupid.

I've had a similar experience with close to every other drama. The person who sent me the poison music video edited it to seem like it was much more explicit than it really was, and I yet again broke down, because I filled in the blanks myself. Whenever I saw people mock the character designs or writing, I internalized it and decided I was a bad person for enjoying or being inspired by it.

I managed to detach myself enough from it to not seem weird, but I just made myself depressed. I couldn't find something I could replace it with, so I was just empty most of the time. I felt like a horrible person every time I thought about it or saw something related to it, and, spoiler alert, depriving yourself of your special interest(s) isn't good. At all. I couldn't sleep, I was only eating at school so people wouldn't think anything was up, i basically relapsed on every issue I've had in the past 4 years.

So uhh idk how to finish this off but don't be like me don't cut yourself off from your special interests to avoid being judged that is fucking dumb. Also most of the vivzie dramas were fucking dumb anyway. I can think of 1 that was confirmed to be actually wrong, and any others showing actually bad shit have yet to be confirmed, so I really don't care.

Make fun of it with me all you want if you're my friend I accidentally made someone feel like shit about that once when I told them. I don't automatically make it into "I'm bad for liking this" anymore I will gladly mock the bean pole boys

What the fukc did I just write I'm off my meds if you can't tell so I kind of can't string together a coherent thought

[finarfiniel]

this is more me musing on old posts than a proper headcanon,  but...  even though galadriel was technically fairly old by the time of the darkening of valinor & rebellion of the noldor,  she was comparatively immature  —  i think that if she and celeborn,  for example,  had met while she was still in aman,  the difference between their maturity levels would have been striking.  she grew up in aman,  sheltered from death or conflict  (beyond what occurred among her family.)  even míriels fading happened well before she was born  —  melkor killing finwë was the first time she had ever encountered death in her life.

and that was followed by what she perceived to be a deep betrayal at alqualondë,  when her cousins slaughtered her people and forced her to take up arms in their defense,  against her own family.  but she continued with the host of the noldor,  only for fëanor to betray and leave them  —  either to return to ask forgiveness of the valar,  or to cross the grinding ice that he had deemed impassible.  a crossing that took them years to make.

the point of all this is more or less that galadriel’s maturity  (and wisdom)  has been built through hardship?  finwë’s death and the first kinslaying + the betrayal at losgar were pivotal points in her life and development,  that had a significant impact on her as a person.

she’s a character that we see endure so much loss,  but she grows and thrives despite,  sometimes even because,  of it.