#if you don’t have a disorder you’ll figure it out

[fierceawakening]

So there is an “x amount of calories is too little no matter who you are” post on my dash and all I can say is… if you do decide to lose weight, find out for yourself?

If you have an ED then obviously you can’t do this, but if you don’t… experiment. Are there reduced portions that maybe don’t feel amazing but don’t bother you a lot? Try that. See if it’s tolerable for you. Are there reduced portions that leave you feeling awful and food obsessed? Too far.

What I found and what I suspect a lot of people can find if they don’t have an ED is that I was eating as much as larger humans did because I assumed it was normal, but when I stopped going “what’s on my plate is a serving, because the waiter knows best” discovered I generally want less.

This fluctuates for me during my period, at which point I crave more food, and want the red meat I’ve been trying to eat less of. So I eat it. Then in a week when I feel less cravings, I go back down again.

Is it perfect? No.

Am I healthier than I was when MUST EAT 2000 NO MATTER WHAT?

Personally? I think yes.

[meowzfordayz]

when you're apart

Author’s Note: is my Sanemi favoritism showing? 🤍 Spoiler Alert: yes. 😂 Don’t mind my psychology major brain showing ~a bit too. 🤓

when you’re apart

Hashira x Reader

Word Count: ~1,300

CW: anxiety disorder, explicit language, mild sexual content

Emergency Request Fulfilled: I was wondering if you could do how the men hashira react to a female reader with separation anxiety

I have a fear of being alone which makes me very clingy. My longtime boyfriend recently broke up with me due to me being “to much to deal with.”

Being clingy is such a bother I know I just hate being alone

~faqs~

When you’re apart…

… Gyomei doesn’t mind receiving calls from you throughout the day. He’s endlessly patient, always willing to listen, and warns you in advance if he can’t talk for long. His strategy for setting and respecting boundaries? Planning ahead and communicating his availability to make sure you feel prioritized and included in his decision making, while still fulfilling his own wants and needs.

… Obanai dislikes it as much as you do, but is ~somewhat more subtle about it. He, at least, has Kaburamura to keep him company, but kissing you is decidedly more pleasant. He’s mindful about maintaining healthy boundaries and expectations—he knows codependency shouldn’t be romanticized—but he’s also so wholly in love with you, that sometimes he gives up and surprises you anyway. “Obanai? You’re two hours early?? Are you okay???” He nods sheepishly, already pulling you into a hug, “I’m fine. Missed you.” “Is Sanemi going to complain to me the next time I see him?” you sigh, scrunched grin revealing your contentment despite the exasperation in your tone. “Probably, I don’t care. I left him enough to cover more than my share of the tab.”

… Mitsuri totally understands your anxiety, and is lovingly firm about ensuring you don’t slip into unhealthy habits. “You can text me anytime, but only call if there’s an emergency, okay?” she murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your earlobe. You nod slightly, resisting the urge to pout. “I’ll be home before you know it.” Even though it stings, you know it’s never personal. Her willingness to draw straightforward boundaries, as well as her willingness to cross them if you’re truly upset, are just another reason to cherish her.

… Shinobu checks in every couple of hours. Sometimes it’s just a single sentence text, other times a quick call, but she knows how important feeling connected is to you. It’s important to her too, of course, but she’s apt to lose track of time when she’s at the hospital or her lab—she enjoys her work—so she puts in conscious effort to be proactive about your anxiety. When she anticipates a busier or longer day, she’ll ask, “Is it okay if I only check in during meals today?” Generally, you’ll reassure her that, “Absolutely, I’m so proud of you,” and if you’re having a low day, then she always figures out a compromise with you before she leaves.

… Kyojuro unknowingly reassures you, because—apparently—everything reminds him of you. Whether it’s a photo of a flower shortly after he arrives at work Pretty flower, but you’re prettier 🌻, a photo of the sky during his lunch break The cloud formations remind me of you, so soft and mesmerizing ☁️, or a blurry selfie as he finally heads home for the day Cannot wait to see you! 😁, you’re kept in the loop. The one time his phone fell into a puddle (he was trying to photograph a reflection of willow branches Elegant and dreamy, like you 🌿), he immediately visited the nearest shop to borrow their landline Hi, yes, how are you today? Would it be possible for me to make a call? I am happy to purchase something. I would just like to tell my partner that I will be unavailable for the day.

… Sanemi often forgets to explicitly text, call, or otherwise contact you. He doesn’t mean to aggravate your anxiety: he just doesn’t quite ~get it, and assumes it stems from insecurity or jealousy — which also confuses him. “You have nothing to worry about. How could I fall in love with someone else when I’m already in love with you?” he snorts, lightly tapping your nose. “That’s not…” you bite at your lip, unsure how to explain yourself. “I’m not big on texting, you know that. It’s not that I specifically dislike texting you.” You smile despite yourself, eyes rolling fondly, “I know it’s not specific to me.” “So then what’s the issue?” he’s determined to understand. “I’m afraid of being alone,” you shrug, gesturing vaguely, “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” Arms crossing, he leans in, forehead bumping yours, voice warm and low on your skin as you gulp, “It’s okay to be afraid of things, and being afraid isn’t nothing.” Arms uncrossing, he settles his hands on your hips, kneading gently as he pulls back slightly, fixing an even gaze on your flushed expression, “I can’t be with you all the time, but I can promise that I love you and think about you.” “All the time?” you ask quietly. It’s his turn to blush, eyes closing as he dips his face into your neck, muttering softly, “All the damn time.”

… Muichiro is a bit absentminded, and rarely thinks to check his phone, but he sets reminders—around noon, and later in the afternoon—to make up for it. If he’s occupied and misses his usual look-at-his-phone time(s), then he’s never bothered by a call from you coming through (besides your number, his phone’s always on Do Not Disturb). In the bathroom? He’ll pick up. About to bite into his lunch? He’ll put it aside. Presenting during a meeting? He’ll literally answer his phone mid sentence, and leave the room (creative liberty: thank gosh he’s the boss hah). He’s aware of his head-in-the-clouds tendencies, just as he’s aware of your anxiety, and feels that having a specific routine is perfectly fair: if he forgets to uphold his end of your expectations, then you’ve every right to remind him. Conversely, if he’s feeling overwhelmed, he’s more than capable of reasserting his own needs — an infinite practice of mutual respect and taking necessary space.

… Giyuu feels uneasy too, but his discomfort stems primarily from how most people tend to socially drain him — you’re one of few that he can feel both stimulated and rested around. Therefore, if it’s a spend-time-with-you versus spend-time-around-others situation, then he’d prefer to be with you. Spend-time-with-you versus spend-time-by-himself situations are more complicated. It takes a lot of discussion, some heavy evenings apart, and tense evenings together, but you gradually nurture a shared understanding and acceptance of your varying needs. He’s always happy to reassure you that I’m not upset with you, nor am I tired of you; I’m just tired, while you’re slowly learning to trust him and his commitment to loving you.

… Tengen could care less about how clingy you are. Super duper clingy? He loves it. Not clingy at all? He’s cool and confident — he knows you adore him as much as he adores you. His easygoingness, however, isn’t the most productive in terms of processing and reducing your overall anxiety. In fact, you eventually have to tell him that he shouldn’t answer your texts or calls immediately, every single time, without a hint of irritation, because it reinforces your self soothing behaviors. “But I’m happy to?!” he grins, kissing the top of your head. “I know, and I appreciate you,” you chuckle, tucked snugly into his side, “But I don’t want to feel afraid of being alone-” “Sooo don’t be alone!” he interrupts enthusiastically, “Again, I’m happy to keep you company!” Inhaling deeply, you gently grip his jaw, a silent request for him to focus, “And again, I appreciate you, but sometimes I have to feel afraid to stop feeling afraid. If I’m never alone, then I can’t ever feel afraid,” hesitating, voice softer now, “And I know you’ll promise to never leave me, but shit happens. Y’know?” He’s silent, maroon eyes steady and tender as he holds your gaze. Before you can nervously murmur Tengen?, he touches his nose to your forehead, still smiling. “I love you. I’ll do my best to help, even from a distance.” “Well don’t go too far away,” you quip. “Of course not,” he laughs, “I’ll just go wherever you tell me to,” declared earnest and true.

[the-hopeless-haze]

Let’s Spend the Night Together

Chapter 3 of If You Want It, You Can Bleed on Me

Greg House x Reader

Word count: 6.5k ??? what did I do

NSFW - smut

“Where does she live?” Greg asks James.

“If I tell you, am I assisting you in a crime?” James asks in response, barely looking up from his desk.

“I’m sure she told you about our date later.”

James huffs in frustration, finally looking up at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“Did you like her? Is that it?” Greg questions, trying to get to the bottom of his friend’s snarky behavior. Not that this wasn’t the usual from him. It was one of the things Greg loved about him, that he was always a little fed up with him, always preemptively aggravated, always in a state of annoyance. It was harder to piss someone off that was always a little pissed with him at baseline.

“Is that what you think? Because if that’s the reason you’re taking her out… you’re more fucked than I thought.”

“The correct answer would have been, ‘no, Greg, I do not want to sleep with her because I am married’ but we’ll go with that.”

James sighs, looking up at him. “Yes. She’s very attractive. But no, I had no intention of entertaining her.”

“Then what’s your issue?”

“Because I don’t know why you’re doing this. You sick of your prostitutes?”

Greg scoffs. “This isn’t about sex.”

“It’s not? I’m mistaken then, because you were flirting with her, made comments about her body, called her to your office…”

“Okay,” he corrects. “It’s not just about sex.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to date her without saying the words? Because if so… congratulations.”

“No. I want to figure her out.”

“Just look in her chart. Save both of you the trouble.”

“It’s no fun if I learn all the answers at once.”

“Do you ever wonder why you’re single?” James asks.

“Do you ever wonder why you’re unhappily married?” Greg counters. “And. About that. Either her psychiatry training gave her some leg-up here or you tipped her off. She went through her files already. All that she left was a med list.”

“You already looked?” James asks, incredulous.

“Yeah. No birth control. Wonder what that’s about? Propranolol. Maybe some blood pressure issue… she’s young for that and that’s not first line. Idiopathic tachycardia? Maybe. Anxiety?”

“She can’t have an interesting med list. Stop looking for zebras. She’s barely thirty.”

“No birth control and barely thirty? Either she’s not getting any or she’s tied her tubes already.”

“Or… if she does have a blood pressure issue she can’t be on it. Or she has an IUD. Actually… don’t drag me into this.”

“Lamotrigine. Seizures. Bipolar disorder. What’s more likely?”

“lamotrigine isn’t the first-line med for either. Maybe you’ll have to talk to her.”

Greg rolls his eyes. “No fun. Hey… she’s on Vicodin.”

“A match made in hell,” Wilson grumbles, running his hands over his face.

“Well. She was. Eight years ago.”

“Most people don’t stay on it indefinitely.”

“Why would she leave that on there? It’s just these three meds.”

“Don’t you have an actual patient?”

He shrugs. “I need her address. I’m picking her up in three hours.”

“At least buy her dinner. Do not just bring her to your apartment.”

“I can’t learn anything if I just have sex with her. I mean, I’ll definitely learn some things, but…”

“Well, I don’t have her address.”

“You’ve got to have her address. You hired her.”

“Nope. I’m not her direct supervisor since she’s a consult. You’d have to talk to the head of psychiatry or Cuddy. And no. I’m not losing my job searching for it.”

“She took it out of her medical records,” he says, shaking his head, but he’s smiling. “I guess she likes to play.”

——————

“So let me get this straight. You want me to risk the safety of one of my employees so you can drive by her apartment?”

Greg looks at Cuddy for a moment, as if he’s  actually thinking about her summary of his request and he nods. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

Sighing, she says, “I shouldn’t be shocked you live the rest of your life like you practice medicine, but I don’t care about the results here. The answer is no, House.”

“It’ll be worth your while.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Because… if I get laid I’m in a better mood which means I’m less likely to cause you issues.”

“Right. Hm. Surprising, but that didn’t persuade me.”

“Have you met her?”

“Is that supposed to convince me?” she asks, looking up at him for a second.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. She does work in psychiatry. For someone who constantly loves to tell me I have a drug problem and there’s something wrong with me I’d think you’d want to make sure this relationship runs smoothly.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “I feel like you and I both know you’re not doing this for the emotional healing.”

“I won’t be doing anything if no one gives me her address,” he grumbles. He doesn’t tell her but for once he can’t believe how stupid he was that he fell for that, that he thought you might be interested.

“Hm. Well. I’m busy, House.”

He walks out without a word, heading back to his office. It’s 7:00.

Well. Alone again. Not much different than the last night or the night before that.

And he knows he could have Cameron. She’s been not so subtle in trying to get his attention, and yes, he certainly didn’t help matters by telling her she’s beautiful. Sure. But she isn’t… she’s not what he wants. He doesn’t need someone to take him on like a charity case.

You… you were fucking with him. And it’s fair, maybe he even deserves it. Maybe you got off on this, being a Walmart version of a femme-fatale, wounding men’s egos, seeing which ones would chase you and which ones would give up after a little pain.

Doesn’t really ease the sting of the ache of rejection, though. That you’d brush him off that easy, leave him without an avenue to reach you.

Sighing, he turns on the TV, trying and failing to focus on the screen, but you’d taken over his mind like a case he was on the brink of solving and just couldn’t get there.

8:15. He gets a page from your number. “YOURE LATE”. It reads.

Well. Screw that. He still had a way to reach you after all.

Possibly.

Smiling to himself, he calls down to the psych ward, asking for you. You’re not there, they say, but they’ll be happy to transfer him to your extension if you’re still in the building.

“I thought hookers took pride in their punctuality,” you say when you answer the phone.

“You’re kind of a bitch, huh?” He asks, trying not to let his chuckle be so audible in the receiver.

“You keep Wilson around. You love bitches.”

“Funny. Would’ve thought you’d been swooning, begging him to leave his wife by now.”

“I’m not so easily charmed.”

“Those big brown eyes don’t do it for you?”

“Sounds like they do it for you. Something you want to tell me, Gregory?”

“Don’t ever call me that,” he sighs.

“Not going to deny the gay allegations but you’ll draw the line at me calling you by your first name? What gives, House?”

“You can call me Greg.”

“Wow, could I? What an honor that we’re on first name basis.”

“Not many get the privilege.”

“Still haven’t denied the gay allegation.”

“Don’t really see the point. You’ll believe what you believe regardless.”

“Wow. Truly. A disaster of a man in all other regards but you’re comfortable in your sexuality? Greg is 1 for 0.”

“I have one male best friend and I’ve been single for five years. I embrace the gay jokes at this point.”

“Five years?”

“Yeah. It’s been a while for you too, huh?”

“What makes you so sure?”

“No reason,” he lies.

“Right.”

“You’re single now.”

“Moved here less than a year ago. Haven’t really had the chance to meet people.”

“Okay. What hellhole did you crawl out of to willingly move to Jersey?”

“Maybe I just like Frank Sinatra.”

“He’s dead. You didn’t come here for something. You left something and you came here to make sure whatever it was didn’t follow you.”

“Is this really the date you had in mind?” you ask.

“Nice deflection.”

“I just moved. No story there.”

“Also. Almost a year? And no one’s asked you out?”

“I can say no, you know.”

“You didn’t say no to me.”

“Maybe I should’ve.”

“Cold. Come down here. I’ll walk you out to my car.”

————-

“Ah. The bitch arrives,” he says, looking you up and down again, not hiding his checking you out. You’d changed, red blouse with a leather jacket and most likely the same black slacks you were wearing earlier. “Not quite slutty enough.”

“Could say the same for you. Where’s the assless chaps?”

“I could never pull that off,” he says. “You could, though.”

He’d changed, too, a button down with slacks for once instead of jeans... at Wilson’s nagging of course.

“Here,” he says, handing you a bouquet of flowers he thought for a second were going to wilt away at his desk.

“Flowers? don’t tell me you went all out. Maybe you’re not as much of a disaster as I thought.”

“I shouldn’t give them to you since you stood me, a cripple, up.”

“Stood you up? You didn’t come get me.”

“You never told me where to get you. Ergo… you stood me up.”

“You were supposed to figure it out.”

“Yeah. Right. Wilson didn’t know and Cuddy wouldn’t put out. And you knew I wouldn’t figure it out. That’s why you stayed here.”

“You actually asked Cuddy?”

“What? I’ve asked her for much worse.”

You shake your head, smiling. “Falling head over heels for me already, Greg?”

“Puzzles are no fun if you can’t figure out the answer.” He doesn’t say that the unsolved cases haunt him, nag him and he sees them where they’re not.

One day he knows you’ll haunt him, too. One day, when you leave, when he pushes this until it breaks.

“Mm. Try harder then,” you say.

“You gave me an unsolvable puzzle.”

“Mm. Not really. You gave it to yourself. You said you were picking me up at my place. I stayed here and gave you the easy way out.”

“You could’ve left it—“ he cuts himself off, lest he incriminate himself.

“Left it where, Greg?” you ask, bemused.

“Nowhere.”

“Right,” you laugh. “So what opiate do you pop constantly?”

“You don’t know?”

“No.”

“Funny.”

“Why would that be funny, Greg?”

“Let me sleep with you first.”

“Absolutely not,” you say, grinning at him.

“Well, I shouldn’t have thought you’d be easy if you’ve put me through hell just to take you out,” he sighs.

“Don’t think I’ll leave you completely wanting, though,” you say, reaching out to touch his face, his stubble scratching your hand pleasantly, a shiver running down your spine. You run your thumb over his bottom lip gently.

Tentatively, he reaches out for you, too, copying your movements, hand on your cheek, thumb over your lips, but then your tongue darts out to run over the pad of his thumb and he thinks he might die right there. “Dirty girl,” he chuckles, smirking.

“Mm. You’re pretty, Greg,” you say, with enough sincerity he almost believes you’re not bullshitting him.

“Pretty? That’s a first.”

“Like no one’s ever told you.”

“Maybe ten years ago.”

“Mm. It’s those eyes,” you say, stepping a little closer to him, letting your breath mingle with his, snaking your hand around the back of his neck. Your lips almost touch, once, twice, wordlessly. “You gonna kiss me or not, Greg?”

You expect him to be rougher but he’s soft, testing the waters, lips still barely touching yours until he gives in, gives you what you want, kisses you like he means it. God, it’s been too long, and you missed it, the thrill of kissing somebody new, and you can feel his anticipation, electricity from your skin to his.

“Come on,” he says, breaking away from you after a few minutes. “I said I’d take you to dinner.”

———

“So what is it? Percs?” you ask once you’ve been seated and get waters. It’s a nice place he chose, somewhere a little out of the way, mostly serving Italian fare and seafood. It’s where men who haven’t been on a date in a while would choose to bring a woman, you figure.

“Percs? You do some time on the street?” he asks.

“So what if I did?” you counter.

He shakes his head. “Not your story. I’m not buying that.”

“Fine. Used to work at an addiction treatment facility when I was a nurse. Everyone calls them percs, though. Not exactly some down low street name.”

“It’s Vicodin.”

“Nasty drug,” you say.

“Really? I think they’re yummy.”

“You would.”

“What’s your personal aversion to them? They take you on a bad date?”

“Got them prescribed after a motorcycle accident. Didn’t agree with me.”

“Hm. You driving?”

“No.”

“What’d you break?”

“My leg.”

“Which one?”

“Right femur.”

Wilson was going to have a field day. Match made in hell, alright. Wilson’s personal hell, that is.

“Femurs are hard to break.”

“When your partner is drunk and doesn’t care about anything it’s not that hard,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Lucky I didn’t die. I mean, not that I cared so much then.”

“Partner? What were you, 19?”

“22,” you say, silently cursing yourself for not just saying boyfriend.

“Did they not make it?”

You look at him questioningly but don’t say anything about his use of the gender neutral. You don’t want to have that conversation tonight. “No. Life support for a couple weeks until they pulled it.”

“Hm. So that wasn’t the reason you left.”

“No. There was no reason. I just needed a change of scenery.”

“Right,” he says. “Jersey isn’t usually the place people pick for a change of scenery.”

“How’d you end up here, then?”

“There was a job opening,” he answers.

“You were running away from something, too.”

“No, I was running to something. I needed a place to hire me and Cuddy was the only one insane enough to take me on at that point.”

“You’ve always been discourteous and unprofessional?”

“Those are my middle names,” he snarks.

There’s a natural break in the conversation as the waiter comes back to take orders. Greg takes notice of what you order, a baked scrod, certainly not the least expensive thing you could have ordered but not the most, either. It’s an assessment of how you value yourself, he thinks. Average. Average is boring.

Or you could just like scrod, he supposes.

“Why are you single?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Life was busy. Didn’t have time for relationships,” you say, shrugging. “Why are you?”

“Myriad of reasons.”

“Give me one.”

“My leg,” he responds indignantly.

“What happened to it?” you ask.”

“That’s a second date conversation.”

"You're in pain."

"How'd you know?" He asks sarcastically.

"Was it the cane? The Vicodin?"

'I think it was your charming personality.

Anyway. If you're going to cite your leg as a reason you're single, I'd love to know why."

"I was with someone when it happened. It's a long story."

"We've got nothing but time,” you say.

"You really won't sleep with me if I don't tell you?" House asks.

"Nope. Keep pushing me and I never will.

Tell me."

House sighs dramatically. "I had an infarction in my thigh muscle. No one knew what it was, I diagnosed it, but... so much of the muscle was dead already. I didn't want an amputation, I wanted a bypass. I didn't care about the pain. I just wanted to be able to use my leg. I asked them to put me under sedation to cope with the pain at the time... and the woman I was with decided it would be a good idea to remove the dead muscle completely."

"You made her your medical proxy?”

"Mm. Stupid decision on my part,” he says.

"Any medical background?"

"Nope."

"Then yes. Stupid decision,” you agree.

"I'm sure you've made plenty of stupid decisions. Getting on that motorcycle, for one,” he says, adding a jab at the end so to help heal his wounded ego a little.

"We all make mistakes. It's human. So... what's the reason now? You resent people who can walk without pain so you don't get close to anybody? It interferes with sex? You feel like no woman would want to deal with it long term?"

House sighs and rolls his eyes. "Do you really think it interferes with sex? Is that what you're worried about?"

"No. I'm asking if that's what you-"

"No. You see me as a potential sexual partner, correct?"

"I never said that."

"We're going with it. You ask me as if you're posing the question to me... but you're projecting."

"And you're deflecting. I asked you three questions and you didn't answer one" you point out.

"No. It doesn't interfere with sex, at least not to the point where you have to worry if I

can get you off or not. Whenever you decide to spread your legs for me... you'll see."

You feel your cheeks redden a little and cough. "I asked you two other questions."

"They weren't what you were getting at."

"Entertain me."

"No. It's not that I resent people. Am I jealous? Sometimes. I'd love to know what it's like to wake up in the morning without pain. But I'm not going to wake up every morning wanting to kill my partner because she jogs every morning and I can't."

"Is it because you've been able to accept it?

Was it an issue with your girlfriend at the time, coming to terms with it?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes."

Greg shrugs. “Not hard to put that together. I bet I could get a psychiatric nursing degree too.”

"Third question? You feel like no woman would want to deal with it?"

"Mm. Or she'd want to deal with it for the wrong reasons, take me on like I'm a charity case. That's unattractive for an abundance of reasons. You could go that way, I think, or you used to."

"You think I'm taking you on as a charity case? You pursued me.”

"You agreed. You didn't think for a second,

'well, he's a cripple, I'd better at least give him a shot'?"

"Your leg is not the reason I am here," you say firmly.

"What is it then, my deep blue eyes? This big, thick cane? My ray of sunshine personality?"

You chuckle. "It's your drive. You barely knew me, decided I was interesting and pursued me without abandon. That is attractive."

"You're not curious as to why you?"

"Little tits and ass, as Keith Richards would say?" You ask. "I'm used to being objectified. Pretty privilege is a thing. I'm sure you have noticed that yourself. If there's something deeper, enlighten me."

"Well, you are attractive, there's no doubting that. But I intend to find out why you're in the medical field, and psychiatry at that. It's like Cameron, on my team. You're gorgeous enough to have become an actress, marry a millionaire. Something happened to you to make you choose this."

"Did you take Cameron out until you figured what her deal was?"

"No. Cameron pities me. I have no interest in her that way."

"Well. Why do you assume brilliant minds reside only in unattractive faces? Why do you assume I worked my ass off to get here because of some past trauma when this could have just been a goal of mine like it could've been if I wasn't as hot as you think l am?”

"Okay. Then why did you choose psychiatry?"

"That's a second date conversation." You quip.

He smiles wryly at you. "You coaxed my issue out of me. Come on."

“I hold fast to my principles. You're weak,” you say, grinning back. “Why are you a doctor, then, hm?”

“I’m not a beautiful woman.”

“Right…” you say. “Chase is pretty. Foreman is too, you know. Either of them could’ve done something easier.”

“Chase is trying desperately to fill his father’s shoes. His father was a doctor, and well, you know how that story goes. And Foreman is an overcoming adversity case. He could’ve been a hood rat. He was on that path.”

“You know… women just started to be able to open credit cards in 1971. Maybe I don’t want to have to rely on a man to make a living.”

“No. Believe me, I get that. My point was there’s easier ways to make money. You chose the hard way,” he says. “And unpopular way. People become doctors and they fantasize about cutting people open and diagnosing infections, not getting hit and restraining children.”

“Your hypothesis is stupid. Maybe I don’t want to be an actor or model… or an infectious disease specialist,” you say. “And I think we’re all damaged. All of us. No one gets out unscathed.”

“No one just chooses psychiatry because it’s such a good time.”

“They do when it can make them ridiculous money without as many hardships as medical school. I could be using my degree to write suboxone scripts and make more than I’m making right now. I know a lot of people who went back for that.”

“Proving my point. Why are you doing things the hard way?”

“You take on the most difficult cases across the country, cases no one else can solve. You’re doing things the hard way, too. Why? Because the easy way is boring.”

Greg smiles at that. “Fair enough.”

“Yeah. Fair enough.”

—————

You don’t quite know how you got here. Or well, you do. Greg asked you to come back to his place for drinks, and you agreed, and you should’ve known better but it’s been years and you can’t really care too much when his warm body is underneath you, his tongue down your throat, his hands everywhere he can reach.

“How bad are you hurting?” you ask him, breathlessly.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry,” he whispers back, reaching a hand back to touch your chin. “What do you want to come of tonight?”

“Let’s just see where this leads us,” you say, leaning back to kiss him again.

But he stops you, gentle pressure on your jaw to prevent you from closing the space between your lips. “I need to know what you want.”

You sigh, pressing your elbow in his chest as leverage to lift yourself off him, and you sit next to his feet on the other side of the couch. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I don’t want this to head somewhere we can’t get back from. Move over,” he says, and winces, moving his legs back over to sit beside you again.

“It wasn’t sexual trauma,” you huff, aggravated. “You can say I’m damaged all you want but that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like glass.”

“I tried to take your shirt off and you pushed me away but you kept kissing me. What do you want?”

“What do you want?” You ask, glaring at him.

Truth was, you were using him, maybe just like he was using you. You hadn’t had the opportunity to make quite as bad of a decision as sleeping with the man in front of you in a long time. And as bad decisions go, he wasn’t so terrible anyway. You like him so far, you think he’s attractive. But you know Wilson is right, that he might drag you down to places you haven’t been in a long time.

Still.

It’s been a while since you’ve felt something. You want the hating yourself in the morning for giving yourself away so soon, you want the walk of shame as he drives you back to the hospital where you left your car, you want to revel in the fact that Greg will be telling people how you were in bed, bragging that he got you in between his sheets. You want the dopamine hit and the subsequent crash.

You spent so long getting healthy but you had to keep everyone at arm’s length to do it. It was probably the worst idea to try to get close to someone else who also isolated people and couldn’t even be healthy then.

Why didn’t he just want it to be easy? Just fuck you and be done with it, continue if it’s convenient and worth the effort. Easy is boring, sure, but sex isn’t boring even if it’s easy (if so, he wouldn’t be seeing hookers, would he?). And you know he wants to fuck you, but why he wants to make it difficult… it’s beyond your reach at this moment.

“I want… I don’t know,” he admits, because he doesn’t.

Prostitutes were one thing. Vulnerability there didn’t really matter. They were doing a job and they didn’t even take a second glance at his leg. As long as they were getting paid. If he wanted attention drawn to it, they’d kiss it red with their lipstick but because he tells them to leave it alone… they do.

Sleeping with somebody new… it’s so much harder. It’s so much easier with someone you know. Or someone you don’t have an obligation to know.

With an aim to please rather than take, he doesn’t know how he’d perform.

Looking at his face, reading the ambivalence there, it suddenly clicks. If Wilson knew the truth, if you really are the first woman since his injury, there’s a lot of insecurity in being seen.

And you know all about being seen.

It’s easy to come off with bravado and arrogance but when you’re actually in the situation, when you’re called to be vulnerable… it’s something else entirely.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” you ask quietly.

“Yes. God yes,” he affirms, nodding his head. “Don’t take tonight as an indication.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” you say, nodding.

“That doesn’t mean… that doesn’t mean I can’t help you get off.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “That’s still sex.”

Scoffing, he rolls his eyes. “If you’re in high school.”

“What do you think lesbians do?”

He raises his eyebrows, chucking a little. “Are you a lesbian?”

“You wish,” you laugh. “Say you could be the one that changed me.”

“I would. Except people don’t change.”

“Yeah. They do. They change all the time,” you counter, shrugging your shoulders. “Every day, every hour, every moment… it changes you. They’re minuscule changes, changes you don’t see immediately, but you look back a decade and then it clicks.”

“Right. Maybe. But fundamentally people don’t change. The parts change, but the whole never does.”

You want to say that he has been changed, that his leg injury changed him, that he holds so steadfast to that belief that people never change so he can convince himself he was always this miserable. Sure, you get the feeling he was fucked before, but this did change him. Made him worse. Made him push people away.

You don’t say that, though. You know deep down he knows it and doesn’t want to face it.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” he asks, insecurity creeping in, and he doesn’t know why this is so difficult or why he cares at all. He could pay for what he wanted, live his hedonistic lifestyle and not have to worry if the woman in front of him wanted to fuck him or not.

You aren’t boring.

But that’s not true, anyway, that’s not why he keeps people at arms length. Routine medical cases are boring, but people aren’t. It’s why he went through all the files he could of the applicants for his team, trying to pick the combination that would interest him the most, play off each other in ways he could live vicariously through. They weren’t the most deserving, or the most academically gifted, they were the most interesting. It’s why he loves gossip, loves knowing about things that don’t concern him, always living life like it’s a spectator sport and he’s got front row seats.

It’s always the people that love to watch that hate to be seen.

“I could be convinced,” you say, in that bitchy tone he knows hes going to love to hate. You soften; though, turn to him, your hair falling a little in your face, kiss him gently on the mouth.

Greg responds in kind, deepening the kiss, his hands tangling in your hair, pulling lightly before traveling to your breasts, kneading your flesh through your shirt.

“Could you be convinced to have lesbian sex with me right now?” he asks.

You’d burst out laughing if you also weren’t so admittedly and ashamedly turned on right now. “Yeah. Sure. Think you’d have an easier time in bed though.”

“You treat me like all your girls?” he asks, a glint in his eye, and oh, there’s the being seen. You’re not a fan, either. You’re surprised he’s not being forthright about what he no doubt is putting together, but ultimately you’re thankful.

“A slut’s a slut,” you quip as he leans back in, his mouth barely touching yours and he chuckles against your skin.

“You really are a bitch.”

“Mm,” you agree, closing the distance between you again, pulling him to stand up with you, letting him lean on you as he puts weight on it again.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, without thinking, never one to apologize for his actions but never one to let his disability affect others, either.

“It’s okay, Greg,” you whisper. “I got you.”

“No, I’ll go get—“

You stop him, holding his jaw gently in your hand. “It’s okay.”

Empathy. Not sympathy.

You had been here, in a way. Femur fractures take a good six months to heal. You walked half a year in his shoes on the same medication he was on.

Now it all clicks, what James had done, keeping you two apart to bring you together, doing something by not doing anything, letting it all happen by chance. He had been patient enough to let time do most of the work, something Greg could never do, but something that ultimately worked in his favor.

It’s okay. We all need someone we can lean on. If you want it, you can lean on me.

You still lived a life without pain.

Greg hates it, hates it all, and if you had had just the slightest twinge of force, the slightest indication that you were saying it was okay just to say something he would’ve told you to get out. He hates the way it kills intimacy, makes him older, more decrepit, makes him dependent, in a way. There’s certain things he can never do, or that he’d need help to do, and it’s something a woman would leave him for.

It’s something a woman did leave him for.

He wants to hug you, but that would feel too much, too intimate, too soon, so he kisses you again instead, and then the two of you hobble on to his bedroom. It hurts. God, it hurts, aches like it always does, maybe more so—the last pill he took was at dinner, but you make it, helping him ease onto the bed and wasting no time, knowing he was insecure, wasting no time to prove you still wanted him, mouth on his, your legs straddling his good thigh, moving on to his neck, laving your tongue over his skin, biting gently, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.

“Hey,” Greg says, stopping your hand’s ministrations.

“I’m only taking your shirt off,” you assure him. “I won’t go further than that.”

“Fine. Not much to see there, either,” he mutters.

“I like tits,” you blurt without thinking. Jesus Christ. You have to stop doing that.

“Yeah,” he says, chuckling. “Sure you do. Good thing mine are bigger than Cuddy’s.”

“They absolutely are not.”

“You familiar with their size?”

You stop yourself just in time before you say “I wish.”

He lets you finish, helping you take his shirt off, take his undershirt off, shivering as you kiss down the length of his torso to the top of his pants. “I’ll show you mine,” you say, unbuttoning your pants and slipping them off, throwing them on the floor haphazardly. You move over so he can see the scar down the side of your leg, deep gash where they cut you open, you were a month away from a nursing license and you were in the OR, someone’s patient before you could ever be on the side you studied for.

You were lucky, they kept saying. You didn’t feel lucky at all.

Tentatively, his hand comes to touch your skin and you nod, silent agreement that he could touch. He’s gentle even though he doesn’t need to be, touching carefully, tracing the line of the scar up and down, hard keloid under his skin.

“This isn’t what you don’t want me to see,” Greg says.

“Hm?”

“Your upper body. That’s why you didn’t want me to take your shirt off.”

Oh. Yeah. That.

“I don’t care,” you lie.

“Yes, you do,” he counters immediately, looking at you knowingly. “Why are you lying?”

You sigh, pulling him back to you, kissing him hard, hoping he’ll shut up if you don’t give him the chance to speak. “Just touch me already.”

It would be so much easier if he just fucked you, fucked you over, fucked you up all within the course of a month. You get the feeling right now, as your tongue is down his throat and you’re letting out moans against his lips you try to suppress as his fingers enter you, stretch you out, reach angles you couldn’t reach by yourself, you get the feeling this is going to be for the long haul. Not that he’s necessarily going to be down on one knee, but that he’s going to drag out hurting you like he’s dragging his fingers against your walls, drawing you closer and closer to the edge but never quite bringing you there.

“You okay?” you ask him, breathless, head hazy, you just want him, want him closer than this, want him deep in you.

“Shh,” Greg whispers, almost a little irritated. “I’m busy right now.”

You can’t really focus on coming up with a retort because he starts rubbing your clit and as you tilt your head back into the pillows, he starts biting at the flesh he can now easily access, starting gentle but then applying more pressure with his teeth, smirking as you whimper.

Sweat trickles down your back and you wish this was different, but he’s naked from the waist up and you’re unclothed from the waist down, and it’s stupid, you know it’s dumb, that you’re letting this man fuck you with his fingers before you let him see you fully naked. It’s not like no one has before. It’s just a conversation you don’t want to have again.

Still. All this is making you a little too hot to be half-clothed.

Greg wonders why he let you in at all. Why he went through the trouble, bought you dinner, why he’s trying to get you off right now. Maybe it’s to fuck with James. Sure, it was originally, but now he feels like it was James who fucked with him, set him up, used predictable behaviors to create a predictable outcome. Still. If you’d been professional with him instead of giving him crassness right back, he would’ve decided to make your life a living hell instead of getting you in between his sheets. Either way, he was going to make someone miserable.

Himself, first and foremost.

Not that he can really be miserable right now. It’s not terrible being needed in this sense, he’s remembering.

You weren’t like Stacy, though, not here. You’re louder, not in a patronizing way where you exaggerate your moans to try and stroke a man’s ego, but it’s like you genuinely can’t hold yourself back. It’s hot. It’s unreserved. It’s… passionate in a way Stacy just wasn’t. She loved him, he knows that, but when things got hard and he got mean instead of fighting back she got cold and walked away.

Not that he can glean exactly how you’d be in an argument from how you act in bed, but he has a feeling you don’t let go of things easily.

And… well. Takes one to know one.

Who would give in, though?

His relationship with Stacy worked before his leg because Stacy would accommodate, she would compromise herself for him. It’s why his friendship with James works now. Sure. Both of them gave him some pushback — it’s not like they in good conscience could let him get away with all the things he wanted to do. And eventually he pushed Stacy until she broke.

You, though? You don’t seem like you shatter easily. If anything you seem like you’d harden like a scar, healing over stronger, uglier, thicker, nothing really hurting you because you’d just put more walls up. You’d fight him to the bitter end.

And you know, maybe he wants that. Someone he’s not afraid to push too far because he knows you’ll push right back the second he gets even an inch.

All he really knows is your vague med list, that you got into a motorcycle accident almost a decade ago, and that you chose to be a psychiatric provider among all other things you could have been. And yet… he feels like he can glean much more.

All he really knows in this moment is that you’re coming apart under his fingers, gripping his forearm with your hands as he drags out your orgasm, trying to get him away from your now overstimulated cunt.

“She comes in colors everywhere,” he mutters, smirking lazily at you, dragging his fingers out of you, finally, then brings them to his mouth, sucking slowly on each one.

You scoff at his comment, but just as quickly he sees the light turn green again and you straddle his left thigh, coming to kiss his mouth, hard, bare cunt against his slacks and he can’t help it, he’s thinking about you wrecking them, thinking about your wet pussy on what could’ve been his bare thigh… and he groans despite himself, in pain, yes, but also pleasure - and he’s pulling you closer by the collar of your shirt, and he begins to remember why men put themselves through what could very well be the potential torture of dating a woman.

It’s just so much better when it’s with someone you know. Or… someone you need to know everything about, need to memorize like they’re an extension of yourself.

You’re not soulmates. It’s not love. It’s not romance, like James would decree.

You won’t fix him. He sure as hell won’t fix you.

But you’ll do something to each other, alright.

[alphajocklover]

InstaJock: Double Friend Request

(Based on the ask I accidentally deleted.)

So, your japanese friend sent you a request for InstaJock, but when you accepted it your phone froze, and now all it shows is you is a picture of a Japanese bodybuilder who seems to be growing. I can see you’re disoriented right now, so I’m going to start by clarifying a couple things. 

The Japanese bodybuilder you’re looking at? He isn’t growing. He’s flexing! It makes sense you made that mistake though, sense with muscles that big flexing can make it look like that's happening.

You’re not looking at a picture. You’re looking at yourself. Your phone is in selfie mode.

Yeah. The Japanese stud currently flexing at you from your phone is you. As I’ve mentioned before, InstaJock allows someone to change what type of jock they turn into through the settings and details page when they set up their account. It’s incredibly hard to navigate though, so most people don’t bother. But if the user can figure it out before they give into the urge to join the app, they can become whatever kind of jock they want. The thing is, they aren’t the only people that can change what kind of jock the user becomes. The person who sends you the friend request can also affect what type of jock the next user becomes. It’s part of the friend request feature. If a jock is still smart enough to figure out how to use the app's settings, they can ‘suggest’ a type of jock to become. You don’t have to accept the suggestion, but it seems like you did, at least by accident. So now, just like your friend, you’re a buff, cocky, japanese jock.

But I don’t think that's the only thing that has changed about you. See, if this was a normal case of InstaJock, you’d have changed mentally just as quickly as you changed physically. It’s possible your friend pressed the ‘multiple personality’ option. It’s pretty much what it sounds like, though I should say for clarity's sake that it's nothing like the actual mental disorder that used to be called multiple personality disorder. It’s more like the cliche version you see on tv shows. Your personality wasn’t overwritten with a jocks personality like most people who use InstaJock, in fact you were able to keep your original personality… it’s just that now you also have a jock personality in your head too. He seems to be in control of your body at the moment too, from all the flexing and the way you keep saying ‘bro.’ I wouldn’t worry though, from what I’ve seen situations like this you and him will be swapping control pretty often. You’ll usually be you… unless something draws him out. Like a hot girl, or a hot guy, or the sight of a gym, or the sounds of a football game, or just seeing your own beefy muscles… Yeah, you might actually be spending a lot of time as your other self. My only advice is to make your peace with him. You guys are going to have to get used to each other.

At least you got a great body out of the deal, even if you have to share it.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Hi roman. I know this is very weird, but i've seen you give some life advice to other people, so i thought i could give it a try too. Don't answer if you don't want to. Anyway

Do you have any advice/tips for a 15 y/o who thinks they just have no control over their life? Like, my concentration is dog shit, i think my grades are slipping. My executive dysfunction so bad and i think i'm disappointing a lot of people. I have no idea how to handle anything in my life. I can't force myself to do the things i need to (not that that'd be any good, i'll immediately cry lol). I just, don't fucking know how i could make things better for myself. And i can't really talk to adults about it, they'll repeat the stuff i already know, and i am the worst person to put their feelings into words, so they'll prob never understand. Not in the edgy way.

Yeah so sorry for half venting into your ask box. Thank you in advance if you'll answer it, if it's too weird and you don't want to do that for whatever reason, that's ok. Peace and love <3

Dude, you’re unfortunately suffering from being 15. And possibly a learning disorder. Godspeed to you.

And I don’t say that to belittle your problems. In many ways as a teenager you don’t have control over a lot of things. You’re still under the control of your parents, you’re still learning how to deal with adult level emotions and ideas. A lot is expected of you and a lot of things are made to seem more important than they are. It’s hard to tell what’s actually important and what’s just adults blowing things out of proportion. It sucks and it’s frustrating!

If you can, you might want to talk to a counselor. If your parents or guardians are anti-counseling you might try to talk to someone at your school like a teacher or administrator or school nurse about the possibility of getting counseling without your parents knowing. Some schools have programs like that.

The adults closest to you might not understand but if you keep looking you’ll eventually find someone who remembers what it’s like to be in your shoes.

And I remember fully feeling like I’d never get control over anything. The end goal of life was graduation from high school and god only knows if I keep existing after that. But the thing is, you do! You keep existing and you figure a lot of stuff out. Wisdom does come with time, it turns out. And legally and practically you end up getting a lot more autonomy as time goes on.

And I know hearing things like this might not feel comforting. When you’re stuck, you’re stuck and no matter how much you logically know it’ll get better right now it sucks.

Just find ways to keep going. And try asking for help sometimes. If your family won’t listen, find someone who will. Take the time to write down your problems and how you feel if you can’t come up with explanations of what’s going on. Or find a friend to talk it out with so you can practice explaining yourself.

If there’s one thing I can promise you, when you’re a couple years into adulthood all of the problems from your teenage years start to feel small. At the time they were big and important though. And that’s what you’re going through right now. And a lot of adults forget about that. Hang in there, and when all of this is behind you, remember how hard it was and maybe someday you can help someone like you.

I’m sorry if all that wasn’t helpful. I don’t know too much about your individual situation. But ask for help when you can. Someone out there understands. You’ll find them.

[ghost-proofbaby]

if it were anyone else (e.m.)

warnings: strong allusions to depression, disordered eating/rough relationship with food, mentions of smoking, description of a sort of panic attack. very sad. hurt/comfort? not edited.

wc: 1.6k+

a/n: this is literally entirely self indulgent and written entirely after i sat and cried and thought "i wish i had eddie here right now to hold me". maybe in like thirty minutes tops. this is for me and only me. go figure lol. sorry. yeah. anyways.

if you relate, my askbox is always open, and i'm very sorry you've felt this way as well. i hope you all take care of yourselves. drink some water, call a friend. be kind to yourself.

“I’m worried about you.” 

Four words that always manage to strike a certain type of fear in your gut. You don’t know how to react as he says it, how he wants you to react. You can only stare blankly, you can only wish harder for the earth to swallow you whole.

“What do you mean?” you laugh nervously, following it with a hard swallow.

You’re playing dumb. You know it, he knows it. The tremor in your bones and your numb appendages know it, too. 

“You’re…” Eddie stalls, licking his lips, letting his eyes rake over you, “You’re getting bad again.” 

You’re quick to shake your head, forcing another hollow chuckle from your chest, “It’s not that bad. I’m fin-”

“You’re not fine.”

The look in his eyes could crack your spine if you stare too long. Wet eyes, a trembling bottom lip, worry lines etched into his forehead that you realize might be caused by you.

You’re causing him worry. The last thing you want to do, you’ve accomplished. You’re on a fast-track to becoming a burden – the first step is always acceptance. 

You’re still unsure of how he wants – no, needs you to react right now. This conversation is a landmine for both of you, and you hold every breath with every step as you try to navigate it. If you make one wrong step, it could cause an explosion that spares no survivors.

You don’t mind if it tears you apart limb by limb. You do mind if it hurts him. 

“How… How do you know that?” 

It’s not a sarcastic snipping or defensive deterrence. It’s an unfiltered response of genuineness – you want to know the signs, you want to know what has exposed the rot this time.

And then, maybe next time, you’ll be able to better shield it from him with this knowledge. 

“How could I not?” he takes a deep breath in through his nose, and you focus on the flare of his nostrils rather than any of the tears beginning to gather at his waterlines, “It’s been happening for a while now, though, hasn’t it?” 

Your throat is a cage, tight and restrictive and ringing with a bitter metallic taste in its tenseness. You can’t respond with words. You can only nod. 

He chooses to answer your question more properly now that you’ve admitted it, “You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground. Picking up distractions like they’re going out of style.”

“Hey, they might be. We never know-” you cut yourself off when your eyes meet his. Now’s not the time for jokes, “Sorry. I… I know. I’m sorry.” 

He’s right. Fuck, he’s right. 

“I want to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly,” his own steps across these landmines are just as delicate, just as feathery light, as your own. You hear it in his tone, see it in his body language. You wish your body could sink into the mattress you’re sitting on the edge of as he crouches in front of you, warm palms connecting with your knees. Grounding you. Tethering you. Holding you back from that sinking you crave. “Are you… Sweetheart, are you okay?”

If anybody else had built up to such a stupid question, you would have laughed in their face. You would have shoved those warm palms right off of your skin and you would have thrown up those ice cold hands of your own, shouted obviously not. 

Obviously not. I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay, it’s a bit comical. I am drowning. I am treading in freezing cold waters and I am barely capable of keeping my head above the waves. My engine is fucked, my tank is empty. I don’t think I’d even know how to be ‘okay’ again if you did manage to pull this mangled body of mine from these depths and sat me down on safe, solid ground again. 

You can’t say any of this, though. Not because you don’t trust him, not because he would judge you. But because the moment he asks the question that should make you scoff, you let out a sob instead. Something like a muffled, broken wail that tears from deep within you. It had already been ready and poised, laying in wait for a perfect moment like this one to escape. 

His eyes aren’t the only glossy ones anymore. 

“I-” you start, breathing already stuttering and chest already constricting, “I- I-”

“Hey,” he palms smooth up your thighs, carrying their warmth with them, as if he were trying to spread it across you. As if he had heard your thoughts. As if he already knew all about those dark, treacherous, freezing waters you were stranded in. All you can do is spew out another cry, strangled as you tried to swallow it down before it entered the atmosphere between you two, “Hey.” 

You only notice the tears when you crumple forward and he meets you halfway. Those warm palms, those hands so capable of safety and promise, cup your cheeks and his thumbs make quick work of swiping away the salty streams. 

“Hey, baby, breathe for me,” his voice is tragically gentle, “Just one deep breath, okay?” 

To demonstrate, you watch his chest expand dramatically, his hands forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

You can’t see through the bleariness. 

“C’mon, sweetness,” he encourages again, “One breath. Just one.” 

If it were anyone else, you’d turn into a fit of rage at the coddling. You’d break everything in sight. You’d scream until your already burning lungs finally collapsed as they’d been yearning to for so long. 

But it’s him. It’s just him, it’s just Eddie. 

His chest rises dramatically again, and this time, yours does as well, albeit through stifling hiccups. You’re dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the flood of emotion that was wrecking you. 

“There you go!” his voice rises ever so slightly, and when you flinch a bit at the sudden volume, he retracts, “Sorry, sorry. But that’s it, sweetheart. Another one, okay?” 

Another breath. Another sob. Another wave of all the pain you’ve been battling off. 

You’re cold all the time again. You’re always sleeping too much or too little. You’re smoking again, running yourself into the ground.

He was right and it fucking killed you. None of those are things you could ever shield him from. You didn’t have the heart to pull away those numb and icey fingertips every time he’d reach out for your hand, or try to cover the shivers that managed to rack your bones even in the middle of summer. The sleeping situation had been spiraling, a pendulum of sleepless nights that would end in a sleep so deep that you could have been mistaken for resting with the dead. Maybe the smoking you could have hid, especially when you’d been so boastful about quitting. 

You weren’t running yourself into the ground. You had already collapsed into the dirt, you had already joined the worms. You’d buried yourself alive, six feet under, and nothing could have stopped him from sniffing out that scent of decay on you. 

The death of a soul and mind. The death of the thing that had propelled you forward for so long. No amount of sweet perfume, or hour long scalding showers, or minty gum to occupy your mind rather than a proper meal, can erase that stench. 

You never could have shielded him. He always saw right through you. Always had, always would. 

“I’m sorry,” you end up crying out. 

You don’t know what you’re apologizing for, but you echo the words again. Over and over, on repeat, until he’s rising from the ground. Until he’s sat beside you. Until his arms are suddenly encasing you and you’re awarded a warmth you didn’t feel deserving of. 

He doesn’t smell like the decay you’d surrounded yourself with. He smells like slow waking in the morning, dreary and calm and at a reasonable time. He smells like warm baths that only relax your bones, and don’t have to blister your skin in the process. He smells like three meals a day, all comforting and all effortless and that never linger with a sense of regret.

He’s not decay, never even treading close to death. He’s home. He’s the promise that you could be okay. Even if it isn’t right now. 

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs into the crown of your head, squeezing you tighter into his chest, not even blinking an eye at the patch of wetness you leave behind from where your cheeks bury against him, “Never apologize. Ever. Not with me, sweetheart. Keep the sorries. I don’t need them.” 

If it were anyone else, the holding would have suffocated you. But it’s him. It’s Eddie.

You don’t fight him when he pulls you fully into his lap, situating the two of you comfortably on that mattress. 

You don’t know how long you let him cradle you like that. How much of that time is spent filled with your cries, or how many breaths he gently urges you to take with him. He never once has to verbally say what you already know; he never once promises aloud that it’ll be okay. He doesn’t put that pressure on you, not yet. Not today. Not when he knows the journey to okay is still such a long one. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers to you instead, “I’ve got you, now, sweetheart.” 

If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t believe them. 

But it’s him. It’s Eddie. 

And he’s got you, for now and for as long as you need.

[maple-the-awesome]

Friend or Foe || Part 2/3

Part 1 || Part 3

Pairings: Time, Wind, Wild x GN Reader

Overview: Link visits an alternate world without its hero and, more importantly, a version of you without your Link. Unfortunately, it seems even the smallest of details can lead to disastrous results. In spirt of Halloween, I've decided to do a little evil prompt because none of the Links have enough emotional damage yet😈

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

Time may not remember everything that has occurred over his many, long adventures, but he does remember the day you met. Only children then, you both made an innocent promise to marry once adults. Now, Time may be a lot of things, but he has always been a man of his word. How could he not be when presented the perfect chance to spend the rest of his life with his childhood crush? You’re the one person he can trust with his every secret - the reward at the end of every troubling journey. He lives to see your joy and dies to see your sorrow, even when it isn't exactly 'your' sorrow...

It's difficult business keeping track of eight young boys and men, especially when they're all cursed with the same adventurous spirits that are easily distracted. Of course they’ve managed to disappear here. He can only blame himself for not having questioned their silence sooner, although he’d be lying to say he doesn’t feel disappointed, notably with the older boys, Twilight and Warrior, who are usually more responsible than to simply wander off without a word of explanation. Alas, even they’re nowhere to be seen, his only hint of other life nearby being a giggle that echoes off the vast number of gigantic trees.

"My, my. One more left I see?" Time leaps back, hand already on his sword when he hears the voice, “Oooh, and look at you! So handsome! So fierce! I’m digging the scar - it makes you look so tough. And those muscles, too! You seem like you would really know how to -”

“- Where are you?!” Time demands, getting his answer promptly when a figure swings down from a branch mere feet away from his face.

“Wow! You’re even hotter up closer!”

Time's eyes widen in surprise due to both their sudden entrance and their physical appearance. This mysterious person has wild hair that sticks out in every direction with their body lacking a healthy weight or color, yet Time immediately ignores all of that in favor of focusing upon the mask they wear - one he knows all too well but wishes he didn’t. He thought, for a second, that he may have recognized their voice, too, yet he’s more certain that he must be mistaken in that regard. No way it could be…

“Hey, you were traveling with those other boys, right? So maybe you’ll be nicer by giving me the answers I want! You see, beautiful stranger, I’m looking for a special friend of mine. We made a promise a while back and I intend to fulfill it if I could just find him first. None of the travelers I’ve found in these woods so far are him, so I was beginning to lose hope until I overheard those friends of yours mention his name, but they -”

Time can’t move, his body overcome with a chilled wave that ends with his feet cemented to the ground. It would be reasonable to say he misheard the first time, and he could keep denying it if he wants now, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he does recognize this person’s voice. How could he not when it’s the same that belongs to his own person angel? It’s a disordered version of yours, however this person isn’t you. This can’t be you because last he checked, you were safe back home where you promised to wait for his next return. How could you suddenly be here in this world, kept under the binding influence of Majora’s Mask?

“- Hey, are you broken?!” This person - who still so eerily sounds like you despite Time’s refusal to admit such a thing - knocks a fist against his forehead, barely flinching when he jerks back with a gasp, “Sooo? You gonna help me or just be difficult like your friends, eh? I don’t have all day, miser!”

Perhaps this ‘you’ is simply a figment of his imagination created by the forest to torment him; that must be the answer. He just has to play the game - no matter how much it messes with his head - to find out what happened to the boys. He’s dealt with enough Skull Kids before, this would be a piece of cake.

“I -...This friend of yours, who is he? Someone you’ve lost in the forest?” Time asks carefully, doing his best not to react too much outwardly, after all he’s seen first hand how Majora’s Mask can affect the mind of its wearer, and this ‘you’ before him has already clearly been put through the wringer.

“If I knew where I had lost him, I would’ve found him!” You snap in irritation.

Time swallows, “...Right, that does make sense, but perhaps if you could tell me his name, I could offer you better help in finding him?”

You seem pleased by this answer, swinging yourself upright on the branch where you become illuminated only by the glowing eyes of your mask, “Link.”

“L…Link?” That cold feeling from before returns, making Time suddenly feel sick to his stomach as the dots finally begin to connect in his head. This is no figment of his imagination - no trick of the light or evil illusion. It really is you…not the same version of you he married, but the other he promised to…

In Wind’s world, you're an adored teacher on Windfall Island. You’re kind, caring, and very knowledgeable about Hyrule's history which came in handy whenever he needed pointers during his early adventures. Yes, you would express concern over a child of his age partaking in such dangerous affairs (you thought it was all a joke when he first told you) and you've let it slip before that you aren't the biggest fan of pirates, although beyond your mother-like worry which you’ve adopted towards all your students (even the unofficial ones like Wind), you’ve ultimately supported him every step of the way. You've always been a huge role model for him, so this shift in personality is more than unexpected...

Wind was excited to show his new friends around what he thought to be his own Hyrule and relieved to discover they weren’t alone on this island they’ve found themselves stuck on after wandering through another portal. A pirate ship anchored on shore - the very ship belonging to Zelda’ crew, as Wind foolishly assured the others despite their caution. Now, thanks to his impatience and eagerness, he sits saddened and embarrassed next to the rest of the heroes as they remain tied to the ship’s mast. 

It’s confusing. The pirates of this ship are the same as Zelda's crew, yet they claimed to not at all recognize the younger pirate regardless of his attempts to jog their memories. Instead, they had rounded him and the rest of the Chain up the second they approached their dock, taking them prisoner where they currently wait for 'the Captain's reaction'. 

The Captain. This made Wind feel relieved again. Zelda. He doesn't know why the other pirates are acting so strangely, but Zelda will be able to clear this whole mess up, in fact here she comes, dressed in her normal pirate attire Wind's accustomed to seeing.

"ZELDA! Goddesses, am I glad to see you! I don't understand what kinda trick the guys are trying to play on me, but this isn’t the time! My friends - they're all heroes of courage like me and we could really use your help to -" The words come so quickly from Wind's mouth that Zelda barely has time to look disgusted. 

"How hard did you exactly hit this guy?" She asks while looking to Nudge then back to Wind with a smirk.

"Wha - I'm serious! This is urgent, Zelda -!"

"- Who?" She places her hands on her hips, generally seemingly confused which makes Wind's blood run cold, but not as much as it does when another voice speaks.

"Oi, what's the ruckus out here, eh!? I thought I told ya' lot to keep it down - Oh. What do we have here, umm?" The doors to the Captain's cabin burst open, out walking a figure dressed head-to-toe in a bright red uniform with a large black, white, and magenta feather sticking out from their hat.

"Captain," Zelda immediately backs off from Wind, "These guys were just caught after trying to rush our ship."

"No, that’s not what we -!"

"- Little thieves. 'thought they could just follow us here and steal our treasure!" The pirates hiss together, although you take more time to look over the boy in front of you along with his companions.

"You all look familiar…" Your statement - as disinterested as it sounds - almost gives Wind hope. Almost, "Lock 'em up in the cellar where I won't have to listen to their annoying bitching. Gonzo, set a course for the Forsaken Fortress. I think Ganondorf would like to meet these boys. Tetra, you stick with me."

"YES, CAPTAIN!" An assortment of shouts follow, both from the pirates who follow your every order loyally and the heroes who express their dismay. Wind, however, can only stare in complete disbelief and betrayal as you look back at him once more, your eyes dark from underneath your hat's shadow which is a sharp contrast to the usual warmth that he knows you for. 

Wild lives with a lot of heavy regrets weighing him down, perhaps the most unspoken being his missed chance at ever telling you his true feelings. You were an ever-so-dear friend to him before the Calamity - someone who never expected the impossible from him and always offered a shoulder to lean on should he need one. He loved you quite a bit; something he remembered almost as soon as he remembered you. He has often visited your grave, replaying past events in his head while suffocating in his own guilt from not having protected you. He has sometimes begged the Goddess to let him see you again, even if just to apologize, but this isn’t what he had in mind - far from it…

Wild’s version of Hyrule is chaotic and messy; a land that thrives off of quiet hope and the shattered remnants of a once mighty kingdom. Zelda has mentioned the theory before: that like Hyrule, Wild needed to become something else - something different and unruly in nature because if you can’t beat it, then join it. 

With that said, he’s accustomed to using a lack of forethought, at least in any way comparable to his past self (which is what he tells himself, anyway). As far as he knows, before the Calamity, he was as straight-laced as they come, always concerning himself with his public image and focused on never letting anyone down. He’s nothing like that now, often running into danger head first with messy hair and a blaze of fire following his trail. You would think after the amount of concussions and scars he’s gained, he would’ve long learned his lesson, but alas, he raced through this dungeon with little worry as he’s done many others because his confidence - or perhaps his dull wit - has once again outweighed any common sense. 

Now this is the price he must pay for his own ignorance: a nightmare reanimated before him as it taunts and tortures his inner conscience…and all he can do is accept this horrid punishment in frozen terror as you stalk across the room towards him.

When he raced ahead of the others and turned the key, he expected to be greeted with the typical dungeon boss - an overgrown bokoblin or fiery wizard. He didn’t expect it to be you, crumbled on the ground with gloom affecting your entire body. He didn’t expect for you to react so harshly to his presence, throwing him across the room with a blast of magic when he tried to reach your side, desperate to know how you’re alive and if you’re okay.

You look as angry as you have every right to be, your face curled into a snarl as you come closer, eyes narrowed in an orange glow and a sword in your hand…yet Wild could do nothing but let his knees buckle from underneath himself and dig his nails into his scalp as he asks himself over and over again how this is possible. How are you here? How are you alive? How were you affected and how does he fix you? …He can’t, though. He let you down then and has no idea how to save you now despite having been granted the gift of your presence again - the very thing he’s been begging for.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” He cries, not sure if it’s for you or himself as he sobs your name with the same heartache he would over your grave, “I’msorry! I’msorry!”

“IT’S AN ILLUSION, WILD! IT’S NOT THEM!” Someone shouts from behind - someone who he’d usually easily recognize as Twilight yet his mind is in too much of a rush to even listen to his concerned friend’s words, let alone care about his identity. 

Wild can only think of his final moments with you. The day you ‘casually’ told him about plans to try a new restaurant in Castle Town and how you were looking for someone to join you. Foolishly - ever so foolishly - he asked if your sister wouldn’t go, generally confused that you, someone so kind and loved, would have trouble finding a willing companion for any aspect of your life. 

Bashfully, you agreed to ask her, and that was it. You walked off, leaving the poor hero to wonder why you looked so dejected and heartbroken. The next time he’d see you was a mere picture an old woman showed him, curious if you happened to be the one he ran into town desperately searching for. The woman - your niece, as it would turn out - confirmed his worst fears, explaining that while you had survived the initial attack during the Calamity, you like many others soon succumbed to an illness Purah now theorizes to have been a result of close contact with gloom. 

Wild can only imagine your final moments, poisoned by gloom and betrayal much like this other version of you is. If only he had done his job properly, you would have never felt such pain. You, like your sister, would have grown old and lived peacefully as you deserved. He, himself, wouldn’t have to forever live with this guilt he bears from your death - guilt that tries convincing him it would’ve been better if Twilight hadn’t pulled him away from the danger, instead allowing you - even if not truly you - to get some sort of revenge for his mistakes. 

[babyspacekwid]

Astrology Observations and Advice ✨ (TW talks of ED)

From a non professional astrologer who has no idea wtf she’s posting half the time 💕

Chiron 4th house in Capricorn, Your dad may be very hard on you, like a perfectionist dad. Could have also been abusive. Could be the type to comment on your shortcomings. Remember that you are enough as it is, don’t be so hard on yourself, treat yourself as you would a friend. With compassion and kindness. Its okay to make mistakes in life. It’s common to have daddy issues with this placement, so try not to let that affect your love life, this is a personal placement of mine😜 rlly into toxic men, but they ain’t good for me, so let us be aware of that. Don’t take life too seriously, do the serious shit without being too serious about it. Idk if that makes sense but for example, let’s say u got a math test, do the math test seriously, like study and shit but don’t let the stress of it consume you because it rlly ain’t that serious.

Aries moon, especially men y’all’s temper is unregulated af. Ive seen y’all snap at stuff that energy shouldn’t be wasted on, y’all are one of the most emotionally reactive signs I have ever met. Like a ticking time bomb. This moon sign might have experienced a mother figure that was harsh and emotionally neglectful. Very hard on you, wasn’t that nurturing when raising you. The type of mom to tell you to get up and wipe the dust off when you fall and scrape your knee as a kid. y’all gotta delve into those emotions in a healthier manner. Therapy and journaling could be very beneficial. Go to one of those rage rooms where ppl break shit, I feel like y’all would go all out. There’s definitely some pent up anger. This goes for Scorpio moons too, y’all is more internal though, got some deep dark thoughts and intense internal feelings that could easily overwhelm which is why downtime is needed.

Speaking of some Scorpio moons I have met, don’t let your trust issues fuck things up. This a hard placement, y’all feel things so deeply, but just cause one person backstabbed you don’t mean everyone will. Open up to people, trial and error and you’ll find that person. Obviously set boundaries and don’t just trauma dump on everyone you meet, but don’t build an invisible wall as soon as you meet someone. Not everyone is out to get you.

(TW) Taurus risings I’ve met have dealt with some type of eating disorder. Could have had family members or people comment on their weight as a child or just got rlly influenced by the negative parts of social media. Every taurus rising I’ve met has dealt with body issues, y’all are actually so beautiful though, and I’m sorry you don’t hear it often,no matter the size. You guys are also so photogenic, like maybe I’m just the type of person that sees human beings as cute in general but istg y’all could be making the ugliest of faces and I’d still think it’s charming 😭 my best advice would be to stop comparing yourselves, and to learn unconditional love towards your body at every stage it’s at. We’re gonna be 60 and wrinkly anyways, might as well enjoy what it can do for you now!

I have this friend who’s a Capricorn sun and moon, and as a Gemini sun and moon myself I feel so similar to her in like every aspect. Idk if it’s because we’re both born on a new moon, but anyways, this girl needs to learn to open up😭 like hun I wanna be your shoulder to cry on, don’t get me wrong she will vent, and spill the tea, but when the waterworks come out she’d rather isolate. I’m just like naurrrrrr, come back. I might not be comfortable with tears and shit but il awkwardly pat your back and listen to you. Either way y’all don’t be afraid to be vulnerable, you aren’t a burden and you can’t deal with it yourself. Stop trynna convince yourself that you can. Humans are social creatures and our primal instinct is to receive and give love. M

ANYWHOOOO y’all I rlly ain’t that knowledgeable about this shit, I’m rlly going off my friend’s placements (and mine). I am studying astrology tho so maybe one day 🤠 but I got the memory of a goldfish so it might take a while, I appreciate everyone who’s been liking my posts though THANK YOU💕💕💕💕

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings Helping You Lose Weight

AN: I suffer a binge eating disorder, inflected from my mother. I also suffer with medical issues and medication that genuinely have made things so difficult. My mom refuses to help, so sometimes you just gotta be your own cheerleader. Call me crazy, but imagining George Weasley supporting me is what keeps me going sometimes. Maybe this can helps others in my shoes to. It’s scary, and isolating, but hey. I’m your cheerleader to!

Warnings: Binge eating disorder, weight loss, sensitive topic matter with food, diet culture, it’s just a trigger warning of weight topics in general

William ‘Bill’

As the eldest sibling he’s had to try and be the best influence. He’s had to try and make sure his younger siblings ate and stayed health. Third parent syndrome. So he knows that this will be a journey, but one he’s happy to help with. Given his curse breaking job he often needs to keep himself in a very healthy mental space. So he would be more than happy to drag you in with yoga, tai chi, and simple mental work outs like that. It’s simple, but easy on the joints. A important part of weight loss is doing things that are enjoyable. Makes you want to do them more. His focus on mental health is very important, and often ignored when weight loss is involved. So this important step is going to make the journey so much easier. Slower? Maybe. But slower means it’ll STAY off easier. His focus on mental health is going to be a god send

Charlie

Since he works with dragons he knows how important it is to keep healthy. He’s constantly doing Manuel labor, and eats a pretty heavy diet of protein. This also means he’s going to be a great cheerleader to help you. Knowing all kinds of great work outs to help you, and finding useful tasks for you to do at the sanctuary. Not to mention he knows how to cook, and is more than happy to show you how as well. He is also a nice reminder that you can still be healthy will looking chubby. He’s made of heavy muscle. Muscle isn’t tense twenty four seven. That squishy is deadly. It’ll make losing weight a bit scary though. You’ll be developing muscle as you lose weight, so the number on the scale won’t really move. Don’t worry. Muscle burns a lot since you need a lot of calories to keep it. You are in safe hands. You need to trust the process. It takes time. You’ll do it! Charlie knows it!

Percy

He’s not a jock. He doesn’t work out like crazy. Especially not like his siblings. But he does know how to cook. Every Weasley does. Eating healthier and cleaner is exteremly important. Most of weight loss relies on being under a calorie number. That’s, unfortunately, the harder parts to. So Percy will be more than happy to do a bunch of reading on the topic. To do his best to figure out the best meals for the day. To help trade out snacks for healthier alternatives. It’ll also give him a good excuse to try and repair the bond with his family. Practicing and learning family recipes. That’s so nice

Fred & George

They run a joke shop full of candy, sweets, and pastries. Needless to say it’s a binge eaters worst nightmare. That’s going to cause so many trials and tribulation. The smells and scents, the new recipes, it’s just hell. They want to help so much, but they are shop owners. Not like they just take it all off the shelves. It’s truly going to be a test that you will fail, many times, but they will be there to pick up the pieces. They’ll be there for every crying session you have after you finish off so much that you feel inhuman. They’ll even use this as an excuse to try and invent new sweets that can be healthier. Children deserve to eat healthier too. Some kids are victims of obesity and need help. Diet culture makes them think they are bigger than they actually are. So to have healthier sweet alternatives helps everyone. Your struggles will be what help kids feel better. They’ll be more than happy to find alternatives to help. You won’t be treated as ‘different’ for needing to diet. You won’t feel like a burden because you need to eat different. Being a kid is being happy and whimsical. And by god they will help you make eating fun again! And help you through that toxic relationship with it!

Ron

He can be the one person that understands the relationship dynamic of food. Sure he has a high metabolism, and is constantly working out, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how eating can just make everything feel better. Food can feel good, but it can also feel so damn bad. He knows that feeling. He knows that pain. He knows that horrible dance. He gets it, and knows it’s not as easy as just ‘eating less’ as everyone says. It’s not that easy. He knows. He knows you are trying your damn best, and he’s going to remind you that you have made successful steps. That because you relapse doesn’t make you any less of a person. Everyone falls down. The fact you get up again is what matters. He gets it, and will help you. You two can do it. TOGETHER

Ginny

As the youngest she’s seen her siblings trial and tribulations. As the saying goes ‘the oldest does everything the youngest shouldn’t’ and learns not to do that. She also over all has more life experience than people give her credit for. She understands that you are struggling, and is more than happy to help. Have you train with her before her quidditch seasons, and just try and make things fun. Just like her siblings ya gotta make it fun. She’s got that high energy spirit that will help you stay active. Morning runs, yoga, dancing, she has an energetic lifestyle that will help you be more active. Even if you both stay home all day. Her energy is infectious, and it’ll help motivate you to move more. She’s got your back, and has so many health programs to let you use. She’s a professional quidditch player. Everyone needs a specific diet plan for their needs. Especially since everyone works a different part. A seeker needs a different diet compared to a beater. She’s gonna help you, and her quidditch team has your back all the same. You won’t face this alone

[mamuzzy]

— Is “psycho” a slur? —

My easiest answer to this question: ASK IF A REAL PERSON IS OKAY TO BE CALLED A PSYCHO. If not, then you are not calling the person with ASPD, BPD, or any other PD a psycho.

Listen to the people with personality disorders, not the people who claim they are allys so they call everything ableist that can hurt our pretty sensitive disabled heart. There is a chance that someone is made the label their own. And someone is not okay with it. No, you don't make a fucking a poll where everyone can vote, and even the neighbours cat can puke on the reblog button. YOU TALK TO A REAL PERSON, YOU ASK. End of story.

Personality disorders and especially Antisocial Personality Disorder are often associated to “being a psycho”.

And you especially met with this term in RepComm while reading.

“EWWWW REPCOMM AND KAREN TRAVISS AND KAL SKIRATA IS FUCKIGN ABLEIST DON’T READ IT OR YOU’LL BECOME ABLEIST YOURSE-“

When I mention TODAY to someone that I have personality disorder, people are being like: okay and you are eating that with fork or spoon?

You call out ableism because you heard it somewhere that being called a psycho is ableist, and calling out ableism gives you browney points on tumblr.

“Psycho” is not a slur. Sometimes not even the self-diagnosed psyhopaths know about the existence of the term of ASPD (that's how personality disorders are not in every speech!!!), they just now that something is wrong, because they always hit walls around people. Psycho or sociopath was the closest that you could name this condition in the early 2000's.

Nulls being called a psycho is not Kal Skirata’s elaborate trick to enslave the nulls or whatever the fuck anti-kal people comes up with. People with pd-s are mostly self-aware. Being always fucking self-aware is why we know that we don’t fit in.

Someone with personality disorder is extremely important to be self-aware, that's why name-erasing, mental-health erasing cause more harm. You don't say shit like to a pd that "you are completely normal, there is nothing wrong with you, carry on" because the next time we actually do something mentally ill™, you will be the first to call us "fucking psychos".

(yeah. I know. so much we, and them, and us, like I'm one with ASPD too, I'm trying to figure if I have more personality disorder than BPD, and probably have.)

In this age where everything is within reach via internet, people truly forget that media is accessible written by different generations, and when I see younger people engaging with the Republic Commando series TODAY in 2024 with today’s tumblr sensitivity standards, I think: vod. Are you aware that the first book came out in 2004, TWENTY YEARS AGO? The accessibility to everything is great but it totally messes up the ability to see TIME CONTEXT. And this time blindness can truly mess up communication between different generations too, causing rifts and we end up invalidating other’s experiences if we are not careful.

“But there were more progressive books even before 2004” - Probably. Only we didn’t have an entire library of progressive labels of genders, sexuality, phobias and MENTAL ILLNESSES AND CONDITIONS.

Not in everyday speech. If no one talks about it, you won't know the concept. You don't know how to ask questions aside from "what's wrong with me?"

WATCH OUT! SLURS INCOMING!!!!

In the early 2000’s and before if your teachers hated you, your parents weren’t educated (or just didn’t care), or your parents themselves never got proper treatment for their neurodivergency, there is chance that YOU ALSO didn’t have a chance to get a proper diagnosis for different types of neurodivergency as a child.

children with dyscalculia were called lazy.

children with dyslexia were called retards who can't even read.

children who were fine playing alone were the weird ones.

autistic people? You mean rain man? Or those braindead retards shitting themselves and throwing fits and should have been euthanized if their parents had any love for them? Oh no you are not autistic, stop being oversensitive to noises and shit and people bullying you for your special interests is not bullying, they are just trying to involve you sweetheart.

ADHD? Problem children with behavior issues.

Antisocial Personality Disorder? Psychos. Problem children. HOOLIGANS. DEVIANTS.

Sounds familiar? No? Then I am truly happy for you.

People like to use this quote to prove that the Nulls didn’t have mental illnesses, it’s just Kal who spread the rumors about them, and the Nulls weren’t more than your ordinary bad behaving children. Because Vau is an outsider, therefore more reliable and objective narrator about the Nulls and because fuckkalskirataingeneral. Yeah. Sure. But we are talking about Walon Vau.

Walon “my father beat the living shit out of me as a child but I turned out fine” Vau.

These kind of abused people In real life with the exact same mentality tell you that you don’t have a problem, you are just oversensitive. You don’t need therapy, you just have to man up. Don’t take pills because pills are for pussies. YOU DON’T HAVE MENTAL ILLNESS, YOU ARE JUST A BAD CHILD. Generational trauma is fucking shit and affects everybody.

Walon Vau alone deserves a separate post about his non-existent mental health. And Sev, now that he was mentioned here. Sev is especially heartbreaking, seeing how Nulls as psychos are treated, and how Sev as a psycho is treated in the books.

This blurb is born from the thought that the Nulls are having Antisocial Personality Disorder and I’ve come to this conclusion because they are constantly called psychos, the most common label people used for this kind of behavior patterns they show throughout the series.

ASPD or Antisocial Personality Disorder and the usage of this name is encouraged in scientific circles because the symptoms and traits of psychopathy can’t be measured objectively anymore. Psychopathy is a neurological/hormonal condition, but no longer its own sickness, because other non-related disorders, diseases and illnesses can mimic the symptoms of psychopathy for eg.: DEMENTIA.

If you ever wonder how can a 80 years old person who never showed any sign of aggression before just go and brutally kill their neighbor for a sole treebranch hanging over the fence and littering the garden with leaves, there is a chance that something is not alright in the brain anymore.

Emotions developed healthy with healthy self-restraints and and self-control will not let you do socially unacceptable things like killing to solve problems, just because your brain tells you: BASH THEIR FUCKING SKULL WITH A ROCK.

Every emotional response are hormones and neurotransmitters in work. Brain is responsible to give the appropriate response to each situation we are facing. If you have hormonal problems, or neurological conditions, different brain structure than a neurotypical people, there is a chance, that these responses are not working as they are intended, you will have different or more extreme emotional responses to things, or not having at all.

So that is why we don’t use the terms of psychopath today as an individual sickness, because PSYCHOPATHY ITSELF IS A SYMPTOM of various conditions! People with psychopathy, the “psychos” are usually on the spectrum of ASPD.

So again, repeat after me like I'm Dora the explorer who put you on gunpoint:

ASK IF A REAL PERSON WITH ASPD IS OKAY WITH BEING CALLED A PSYCHO. IF NOT, YOU DON'T CALL THE PERSON PSYCHO. END OF STORY.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Step 6 : Focus On Yourself (Y.JI)

Word Count : 4.6k

Warnings : swearing, suggestive, body worship, hand kink (I have a problem okay?), sex (no smut), alcoholism, clubbing, fwb, heartbreak, failing grades, period mention, bullies, eating disorder mention, mention of beating people up, food mention, hospital, this one has a lot of angst, like this one hurts, i cried writing it, a lot of tears were shed, happy ending though

A/N : This one is slightly different than the others, and deals with a triggering topic (alcoholism). It is a minor plot point and I only wrote it with my personal experience with alcoholism but I know everyone's is different. It is not violent alcoholism, it is emotional alcoholism. As in drinking to forget, drinking to feel happy. If that is triggering for you, please do not read this story. Thank you.

She peered over to the guy sleeping next to her, double checking that he was in fact asleep, before sneaking out of his bed, redressing herself as quickly and quietly as possible, and leaving his place. The entire walk back to her place she wonders why she seems to fall back into his bed every single time. A simple plea, a pout, a pet name falling from his lips, and she’s putty in his hands.

            God his hands. The sinful things his hands have done to her, the sinful things she thinks of them doing to her all the time. His long, slender fingers ghosting over her body, leaving goosebumps in their path, before delving between her thighs, causing sinful sounds to fall from her lips, sounds he covers with his own mouth, kissing her quiet.

            Last night he had only invited her over for a movie, that’s what they both agreed on. It wasn’t even halfway through when his hand gripped her thigh, inching higher and higher. She tried to clench her thighs, stop his hands from feeling how badly she wanted him. But there was no use. He knew. Let me make you feel good, baby girl. Growled softly in her ear, and she was a goner.

            She’s not even sure when this happened. When the line was crossed. When they stopped being just best friends and became something a little more but a little less than lovers. And she wonders when she began to hope for the final line to be crossed. When they’ll get out of this limbo and she can call him hers.

            He keeps promising her soon. But soon has come and gone many times over. She tries to leave the limbo, go back to being friends, but he pouts at her, whispers to her that he loves her so much, and she’s back in his arms, under his spell. You’ll be mine soon, I promise puppy. And he kisses her so sweet, smiles at her so lovingly. And she believes him.

            She just wants to wake up in his arms, traces the features of his face as the sun breaks through the blinds, watch as his eyes flutter open. Wants him to kiss the tips of her fingers as she traces over his lips, grab her hand, press a kiss to her palm, pull her close, and press a final kiss to her lips. She just want him to love her the way she loves him. Wants him to love her the way he promises he does.

            And if he can’t love her, she wants him to let her go.

~

            “He doesn’t love you.”

            “Damn Keeho. Tell her how you really feel.” Theo chuckled, punching Keeho in the arm before turning back to Y/n. “Don’t listen to Keeho.”

            “Hey!”

            “Shut up. As I was saying. We’re all young and confused and trying to figure things out. Maybe he really does love you and is just trying to figure that out.”

            “Okay cool great. Can he stop pulling me along and making promises he doesn’t mean? I never wanted my feelings to complicate our friendship or become a burden on him. He can reject me and I can move on, it’s not that deep. I’m just done with the hot and cold.”

            “Fuck someone else.” Keeho said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he continued to eat his lunch. Theo and Y/n stared at him like he had two heads, but Keeho didn’t seem to notice.

            But it got her thinking. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea. Maybe she could distance herself, focus on herself and her needs instead of his. She didn’t have to pick up the phone every time he called, didn’t have to open the door every time he knocked. She didn’t have to give into him every time his hands started feeling her up, going under her clothes, ran over her bare skin.

            But fuck did she want to.

            What would he do if she didn’t sneak out during the night? What would he do if he woke up to her face? If she gave into her needs, cuddled deeper into his arms, and allowed herself to fall more in love with him, would he be there to catch her, or would he watch her hit the ground and walk away laughing?

~

            She really meant to let the phone ring. She stared at his name, his contact picture staring right back at her, a mirror selfie he took on her phone, his hands practically covering her entire phone. And she thought of the things his hands can do to her. The sounds they make her make. The moans, the screams. And her legs were clenched as she reached over to answer before it could go to voicemail. “I miss my baby.” It’s like she could hear his pout. Her heart melted, and she gave in quicker than she’d like to admit. Knocking at his door in five minutes, kissing him the second he opened it.

            Keeho told her to fuck someone else, but Jeongin was the only one she wanted. He was the only one who knew what she liked. She would let him break her heart a million times if she could have him like this. Hovering over her, looking at her like she was a goddess, kissing every inch of her skin. “Beautiful.” He whispered.

            Something felt different this time. It was slower, like they had all the time in the world. He took his time, looked in her eyes with every compliment, letting her know he meant every word. He worshipped her. He loved her.

            “I’m letting you go.” He told her as they laid beside each other as they came down from their highs. “Find someone that can love you the way you deserve.” He had just spent the last hour staring at her, but now he refuses to look at her. “I hope one day you’ll forgive me and we can be friends again.”

            She swallowed her sobs down. Blinked back her tears. “You’ll always be my best friend, Innie.” And one last time she got dressed and left his place. Cried all the way home. Sobbed until her throat ached. Drowned in her own tears. But she would do it all over again just to have him look at her like he did one last time.

            He had worshipped her. Loved her. Just to say goodbye.

~

            Their friendship went from meeting on the playground, to birthday parties, to graduation, to university, to frat parties, to sex, to awkward waves when they pass each other. It’s like they were going backwards. Like they were re-meeting each other. Like they were strangers that knew a little too much about each other.

            All their favourite movies, foods, memories. Things they like to do on rainy days. He could write a novel about her and she could write one about him. But they were acting as if they barely knew each other.

            Jeongin didn’t want to let her go. But he knew it was time. He loved her. God did he ever love her. He loved her so much he couldn’t control himself around her. Always wants to kiss her, feel her, touch her, love her. But he couldn’t be with her.

            Jeongin was on the verge of failing out of the university. And he knows she would never judge him for that. She would support him no matter what, help him get into a new university, help him get a job, whatever it took. She was good for that, she always was. But he had a dream. A dream for the two of them. And that dream needed a degree.

            He thought if he had her close enough but not all of her, he wouldn’t be distracted, but he still couldn’t get enough. Needed to have her all the time. She was all he could think about. During all his exams, it was only her. All the lectures, her. His notes were filled with doodles of her. His entire life revolved around her. Everything was about her.

            And he wanted to ask her to wait. Beg her, plead for her to just wait for graduation and he would give her everything she could want. A house. A ring. All the love she gave him all these years and more. But it was embarrassing. He didn’t want her to know. Didn’t want her to pity him. Didn’t want her to offer to help him because he didn’t want to have to admit she was the reason he couldn’t focus.

            Was it love or obsession? Does it really matter anymore? She’s not his. He’ll always have the memories. Her body beneath him. Her lips around him. Her moaning his name. He just wishes he marked her up their final night. So he could see her walk around with the marks he gave her, looking so pretty with the purple showing through the concealer she’d use to try and cover them. God he loves her so much.

~

            The first week was the hardest. Waiting for a text or a call, begging, pleading, for her to come over. She tossed and turned, scared of missing the sound of her ringtone signaling him calling. Her grades slipped during the first week, everything slipped. It was like she was losing control and she didn’t know how to get a hold of anything.

            The only calm she felt was when Jeongin would smile and wave at her when he’d see her. It let her know that he still knew her, still remembered her. She wasn’t just some stranger to him. A stranger he whispered I love you to before falling asleep. A stranger he tossed aside after breaking every single promise he made in the same bed.

            By the second week, she was able to put on a front that she was okay. Smiling when Keeho and Theo argued with each other. Stopping them when it got too far. Writing notes down in her classes as if she was actually retaining any of the information. Conversing with some classmates about projects that were due, projects she had completely forgotten about. No one knew she was breaking inside.

            She still tossed and turned at night, waiting for a sign that he was still just a little bit hers. I’m letting you go. Find someone that can love you the way you deserve. His words echo in her head. Over and over like a sick taunt. And she cries herself to sleep for the twelfth night in a row.

            By the third week she was practically a shell of a person. Barely able to continue on without Jeongin by her side. Keeho and Theo have tried to drag her out during the weekends, but she stays curled up on her couch, rewatching sad movies so she had another reason to cry besides mourning a relationship that never happened.

            She wishes she would have listened to Keeho. Wishes she cut Jeongin off sooner. Stopped falling into his bed, stopped breaking her own heart just to keep his whole. But that’s what you do when you’re in love with someone, right?

            Who cares how broken you are when the person you love is whole?

            “This wallowing in self pity shit needs to stop. Go take a shower and put on something sexy. You’re coming out with us tonight. No ifs, ands, or buts.” Keeho stole the remote from her hand, shutting the movie off before she could even protest or ask how he got into her apartment. He ripped the blanket off her lap, pulled her off the couch, and pushed her towards the bathroom.

            As she took her time in the shower, hoping her two friends would get tired of waiting and leave without her, Theo and Keeho decided to tidy up her apartment. Folding the blanket and putting it back where it belonged. Washing the dishes and putting them away. Keeho even went the extra mile and went around her small apartment, grabbing the things he knows Jeongin gave her, and hid them away where she couldn’t see them. Out of sight, out of mind.

~

            As much as she didn’t want to leave the comfort of her apartment, she did have to admit that the alcohol in her system did feel nice. The heartbreak started to lessen. Almost as if it didn’t exist in the first place. The more she drank, the better she felt, and she wondered why she didn’t think of it sooner. Alcohol was the key to fixing her broken heart.

            “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?” The guy standing in front of her was tall and devilishly handsome. The kind of guy that draws you in before you knew what was happening. Dark hair, dark eyes, a sinister smile. He was bad news, but that’s what was so attractive about him.

            “She’s not alone.” Her heart stopped at the familiar voice. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes. And when the stranger walked away, she pushed him away, not even bothering to spare him a glance. She hoped he’d follow her. Grab her wrist, fight for her to stay. Tell her he fucked up, that he was in love with her. But he let her walk away. Not even a call of her name.

            She walked right into Keeho’s open arms, begging him to take her home. She just wanted to curl into her bed and disappear. Keeho looked forward, seeing Jeongin watching her from where he was standing, a sad look in his eyes. He knew Y/n wasn’t the only one hurting, but she was the only one he cared about. Jeongin made his choice, he has to live with it.

~

            It was the fourth week that things seemed to turn around. She was smiling again. Laughing at the jokes her friends made. Turned in all the projects she forgot about. It was like she was back to the Y/n everyone knew and loved. But there was one difference.

            She reeked of alcohol.

            Every single time she finds herself thinking of Jeongin and her heart starts hurting, she takes a drink. It helps numb the pain, helps her feel happy again. That’s what everyone wanted. It’s what everyone kept begging for. They wanted happy Y/n back. Wanted to see her smile and laugh again. She was just giving them what they asked for.

            No one said anything. It was a phase, they all said. It would pass. Just like heartbreak passes, this too will pass.

~

            But it didn’t. It got worse. Graduation was just around the corner, and she was still drinking everyday. She was still crying herself to sleep, staring at her phone, waiting for him to call her. Why won’t he just call her once? Can’t he see that she’s a mess without him?

            Find someone that can love you the way you deserve. She doesn’t want someone else. She had years to find someone else. But it always came back to Jeongin. Came back to his empty promises that he broke. But she didn’t care. Because it was Jeongin.

            Yang Jeongin who was there when she first got her period and she leaked through her pants. He gave her his sweater to wrap around her waist and called his mom for help immediately, holding her in his arms, soothing her sobs.

            Yang Jeongin who was there when she got a failing grade and helped her study for the next test. He didn’t scold her, tease her, or even shove his passing grade in her face. He spent extra time studying with her after sitting with her, holding her hand, as her parents yelled at her.

            Yang Jeongin who beat up all her bullies when they were kids, despite it getting him in trouble every single time. He told her he would do it again and again if it meant she would smile again, because her smile was the most precious thing in the world.

            Yang Jeongin who refused to let her starve herself throughout their entire friendship, telling her those diet fads were ridiculous. She looks perfect the way she was, no matter her weight. He would always find her more beautiful than any model.

            Yang Jeongin who introduced her to his new friends with the biggest smile on his face, an arm wrapped around her, telling them she was the most important person in his life. She was his other half, she completed him.

            Why would she want anyone else when Jeongin already loves her more than she deserves? She doesn’t care that things got lost in translation, some boundaries were crossed before they were ready. She would wait for him. Right here, in the darkness, their memories surrounding her. She would wait no matter how long it took.

~

            There was a blinding light in her face the next time she opened her eyes, mumbled voices just out of earshot so she couldn’t hear what they were saying. But her eyes were fixated on one thing, one person sat right next to her, hand in hers, head on the bed, eyes closed, breathing slow as he slept. She could see the remnants of the tears he cried, the puffiness around his eyes, the pout still on his face. But all she could think about was how he came back for her.

            It didn’t click until the doctor walked in that she was in the hospital, brought here by ambulance after she hadn’t answered any of Keeho’s calls. “Your friend put up quite the fight.” The doctor chuckled. “Good thing too. If not for him, you would have died.”

            Death is such a weird concept. It used to scare her when she was younger. She was so careful about everything. Never living life on the edge, taking every precaution necessary. But hearing that she was minutes away from death made her feel nothing. No fear, no sadness. The only thing she could feel was Jeongin’s grip tightening around her hand at the mention of her dying. He didn’t meet her eyes, kept his gaze locked on their hands, clearly trying not to cry again.

            “Once this bag of fluids is empty, you’ll be free to go home.” The doctor gave her one last smile before leaving the room, leaving her alone with Jeongin. It was silent. It was so unlike them. She was used to one of them filling up the silence with a random story, or him kissing her because he missed her so much. But so many things have changed since they’ve last been alone. They aren’t the same people they were all those months ago.

            “What happened?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Secretly, he knew the answer. He received quite the earful from both Keeho and Theo when he insisted to be the one to sit with her until she woke up. How he ruined their friend, turned her into a shell of a person who could barely function without alcohol.

            “I just wanted to be happy again.”

            “You scared the shit out of me, you know.” Of course she didn’t know. How could she know how he was feeling when he avoided her as best he could. Heard all the rumors of the girl crumbling in front of everyone’s eyes. He wanted to run to her, hold her in his arms, run his fingers through her hair. But he thought she was just dealing with things her own way. Focusing on herself the way he was focusing on himself. Working on moving on the way he told her to.

            But she still held the exact same amount of love in her eyes as the last day he held her. Still looked at him like he was the only thing she’ll ever want. “I missed you.” She whispered. Jeongin reached up, wiping away the tear that began to slip down her cheek.

            Her skin was dry, and a little cold to the touch. His hand was warm against her cheek, and he continued to rub his thumb across her cheek, looking at her with a softness she’s never seen before. “I missed you more than you know, darling.” The pet name rolled off his tongue, and when it hit her ears, she smiled. Maybe he was still hers in the way she was still his.

~

            “We’ll talk after graduation, I promise. Just focus on yourself right now. Stay sober for me though, please.” Jeongin helped her into her own bed, Theo and Keeho both watching with trained eyes from the doorway.

            “You can’t stay for just tonight?” She wrapped her hand around his wrist, and he looked up at the two watching them as if they were her parents. Their arms were crossed across their chests, eyebrows raised as they waited for his answer. “I won’t bother you again until after graduation. Just one night.”

            And just like always, he gave into her. He always would. Even if she asked for the world, he would find a way to get it for her. The love he has for her overwhelms him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Because it’s her. And if it’s her, he’ll do anything.

~

            They went back to only seeing each other in passing, nothing more than a smile and a wave. But it was different this time. Because now he would text her, check in on her. He should have done it this way from the start, but he didn’t think of it then. He thought letting her go completely was the only way.

            But now he can watch as she checks her phone, giggle at whatever he sent her, and look towards him with the same beautiful smile as always. The light has returned to her eyes. She was still healing, still struggling from her bout with alcoholism, but Jeongin could see that she was doing better.

            No matter what, whether she was diving off the deep end, hitting rock bottom, or flying sky high on cloud 9, she would always be his Y/n. He knows that for sure, looking at her as she walks off to her next class. He could tell it was a harder day for her, but she was still the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. He still only had eyes for her, even if there were millions of eyes on him.

~

            Graduation grew nearer, and the only thing that kept her going was knowing that she would have her Innie back. She wasn’t sure in what capacity, whether she could kiss him and love him with her whole heart, or if they would be just friends. But she didn’t care as long as he was in her life.

            Theo and Keeho have taken turns staying with her just to make sure she doesn’t turn to drinking again. And she’s grateful, because the longer she goes without drinking, the more the thought of drinking herself into oblivion again scares her.

            She thinks back to waking up in the hospital room, the look on Jeongin’s face as he slept beside her. The way Theo and Keeho threw their arms around her in the waiting room once she had emerged from her room to go home. The tear filled conversations they’ve had since, talking about the what ifs and the what could have beens. And she doesn’t want to be her anymore.

            It’s hard at first, especially during the lonely nights when her guest is already sleeping and she’s left staring at the ceiling wondering what Jeongin is doing. Is he alone? She stares at his open contact, debating texting him, but part of her doesn’t want to know the answer. What if he’s not alone? She would rather pretend that he’s thinking of her like she’s thinking of him and save herself the possible heartbreak.

            But if she were ever brave enough to send the message, she would know that he was up looking through pictures of the two of them on his phone, reminiscing about the past. Writing down date ideas in his notes, places to take her when he has the chance.

            She would know there’s no need to worry what he’s doing because everything leads back to her anyway. And as soon as graduation is over, he’s running to her, pulling her into his arms, and telling her just how much he loves her, how everything is for her, and then kissing her with everything he is. So she’ll never doubt his love for her again.

~

            “She doesn’t actually think he’ll show up, does she?” A group of girls giggles as they walk out of the café. It was graduation day. She worked her ass off the last month to bring her grades back up so she could still graduate, and then as soon as she had her degree, she left for the café Jeongin agreed to meet her at.

            He had approached her with a bouquet of flowers at graduation with a smile on his face, girls surrounding him hoping the flowers were for them, but his eyes were trained on Y/n. And he told her he’d meet her at their café after graduation was over. He promised, and though he was known to break his promises in the past, she decided to trust him one last time.

            So she waited. Every time the bell dinged, she looked at who walked in, hoping it would be Jeongin, that he wouldn’t break yet another promise. But as the minutes passed, her heart was slowly breaking again. She was spiraling, hands shaking, eyes watering. Why does she let him break her heart over and over again?

            One hour. It’s been one hour she’s sat here, scrolling through her phone, looking at the door, listening to the giggling girls make fun of her. She’s not sure why she’s still waiting, holding out hope that he would still show, but she didn’t move. Almost like she was glued to her seat, like something was holding her down, stopping her from leaving.

            The time kept ticking, her drink was left untouched on the table, the messages she had with Jeongin were open on her phone. She was waiting for a text, a call, anything. He wasn’t going to show, she knew that, but he could at least text her, tell her why she wasn’t good enough for him. Tell her why he kept giving her false hope.

            The flowers were taunting her on the table, and she almost looked up the meaning of each and every flower in the bouquet. But before she could, the door was slamming open, a man running in, rushing to her table completely out of breath. “You waited.”

            It took a second for her to register that Jeongin was standing in front of her, still panting, smiling at her. But when she realized that he came, she smiled. “I’d wait forever for you.”            

He reached for her hand, taking it in his, sliding a ring onto her finger, and then showing her the matching one on his finger. “I had to go pick these up, that’s why I took so long.” He laced their fingers together. “But I’ll never make you wait for me again.”

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[sheabutterbitch]

hiii idk if this is okay to ask but is being a clinical mental health therapist worth it? i got my B.S in psychology and i’m leaning towards a masters but would you say the pay is worth it, i know your just starting out so somethings may not be high yet. i don’t need to be a millionaire or anything i just want to have a live able wage because i’ve always wanted to be a therapist.

also i’m proud of you, i’ve been following you for as long as i remember <3 you kinda inspire me in some aspects! 💛

Hi there, this is totally fine to ask!

One piece of advice I will give you is to look deeply into different paths for your masters degree. Even though you got a BS in psychology, it doesn’t mean you have to go this route to become a therapist. This video from Katie Morton on YouTube really helped me when I was in school.

I also like this video: What’s it like being a therapist, are you rich?

To answer your question, though: I love being a therapist so it is worth it for me. So often, where you work is what impacts your perception on this field. It is so easy to become exploited in this profession, especially as a social worker which is what my license is in.

As of now, you can expect to make 50k to 80k as a new therapist give or take. My salary is in this range and I work in one of the lowest paid states in the country so I think that’s still pretty good. If I were to live in a less rural state such as New York or California I’d likely make much more. Once I elevate my license next year, I’ll be making much more as an LCSW and will be able to open a private practice to generate more income potentially. There’s room for growth in this field as long as you do not become complacent or stagnant.

It is also important to consider the population and setting you plan to work with. For example, I work in addictions (chemical, sexual and romantic, shopping, eating disorders, etc.) and the setting is residential treatment. You’ll figure this out (and likely change your mind a couple times) during grad school or even afterwards so it’s okay if you’re unsure now. I still think it’s a good idea to ponder this as it may serve as motivation.

Also, try your hardest to land a graduate assistantship to pay for your studies.

Hope this helps!

[storm-angel989]

Outside The Office Part Twenty Two

Hi All,

SO GLAD I got so many comments and likes on the last chapter- I hope y'all enjoy it! Trigger warning for body image issues and disordered ideas of what is healthy.

As always, please feel free to drop a comment, a DM or an ask if you have a situation you want Val and Reader to explore together- from shopping to sex, nothing is off limits!

Enjoy!

An hour to the dot later, Lucifer appeared in the living room. Val had left me behind as soon as breakfast was eaten with a kiss and a promise to make good on his words. As soon as he left I changed into the required attire and let myself lounge on the couch and scroll aimlessly through sinstergram while I waited. 

“Well, I see you look ready,” Lucifer said drily as his eyes raked over me. 

I looked up at him from where I laid on the couch. Dressed in black leggings, a tank top and sneakers I assumed my relaxed position was what he was referring to. I rolled to the side and walked towards him as I tucked my phone in my pocket. 

“Ready when you are. Where are we going anyway?” I asked as he opened a portal. “Soul collecting?”

“No. And don’t call it that. We don’t collect souls, we contract souls.” He paused but shook his head, “I mean, we technically collect them but don’t call it that. I don’t like it.”

I stared at him. Even for Lucifer, that comment was weird. “Alright then, where are we going?” 

“To see exactly where your military skills lie- and where you need to improve,” he answered. 

His gaze fell to my wrist, and then to my collarbone. Wordlessly, he brushed his finger against both. 

The bruising and pain vanished instantly. 

“It’s only temporary. Won’t last more than a few hours, but at least I can get an assessment of your full, uninjured body, ” he said easily. “Word on the street is that you were one of the most ferocious angels to ever see combat.”

I didn’t answer. Extermination wasn’t something I participated in, but battling demons who encroached on our territory? That was something I did in my younger years. Mercilessly, and without thought- just as my father had taught me. But the hours I used to spend training were now spent doing much less physical tasks- modeling for Velvette, reading contacts or doing office work for Vox, and of course, studio time with Valentino. I may have been continuing to work out for a few hours a day out of habit, but I was nowhere near where I used to be. 

I stepped through the portal behind Lucifer and looked around. The room was large, with mats shoved against one side and an assortment of weapons on the far wall. I eyed them. Crossbow. Sword. Gun. All things I could easily handle.��

Lucifer gave me a look. “Don’t even think about it. Today is an assessment of your physical skills and fitness. Not how well you can aim a gun. That comes later, I promise. Follow me.” 

I followed him through the door in the back and stepped into another room, this one fully matted, lit only by electric blue light. 

“This is my own personal creation,” Lucifer said proudly. “Over the course of the next few minutes you’ll be surrounded by enemies that feel as real as you and I are. But that’s the kicker- they’re not! That being said, every punch, every kick, every action you give or take will feel real, though at the end that pain will vanish. I strongly suggest you fight as though your life depends on it- the longer you last, the stronger the enemies. And again, I promise you no actual harm will come to you. Go stand in the center of the room.”

I did as I was told and looked around at the matted walls. A sense of unease washed over me as they flickered that same electric blue. 

“I’m going to stand in this corner right and send enemies your way. Fight like you would any other battle. I’ll call time when you’re officially dead.” Lucifer said. 

Faceless black figures filled the room. I allowed my instincts to take over. The first punch hit me in the gut thirty seconds in and I doubled over as pain shot through me. Fuck, he wasn’t kidding when he said they felt real. It was like fighting my own father, or one of the other top angels. Behind me, I felt hands grab my hair. I reached behind and yanked the shadowy being flipping it on its back as hard as I could. It vanished.

“Kill one.” a robotic voice rang out. 

Lucifer clapped his hands together. “Excellent job dear, keep going.” 

I dodged the next, and fought as hard as I could until a searing pain shot through my chest. I gasped and dropped to the floor.

“Time till death. Two minutes and forty seven seconds.” the voice rang out. 

“Oh reader, that was sorely disappointing. You’re going to have to do better than that, “ Lucifer tisked. 

Bright white lights flooded the room and he strode over to where I lay. The pain vanished but I still struggled to catch my breath, my muscles sore from the exertion. Lucifer extended his hand and helped me to my feet. 

“That was…less than impressive, my dear.” he reiterated with a shake of his head. He pressed his finger against the pulse point on my neck and looked at his watch. “I would toss you back out again, but a muscle tear would only further delay us. And judging by how slowly your heart rate is going down, I would strongly suggest conditioning yourself over the next two weeks. We can reassess then. I’d like to teach you how to utilize the power you hold, but I’m afraid we can’t do that quite yet. You’re just not physically ready.”

I must have looked dejected because he gently ruffled my hair. “Enough of that. Just because you toss inebriated demons through a wall, doesn’t mean your stamina is the same as it used to be. Follow me, I want you to see one of my staff doctors before I send you back home. Make sure you’re physically unharmed.” 

The familiar portal opened and I followed him without protest, my mind reeling with both anger and disappointment at myself. I knew how to fight, I was strong, respected, and feared. Or at least, I used to be. 

I stepped into what looked like a hospital room. Lucifer flung himself into one of the chairs and pulled out his phone. As the doctor performed his physical, he glanced up every now and then but quickly went back to typing.When I was told I was cleared of all major health issues, Lucifer stood up and tucked his phone into his jacket pocket. 

“Alright then, let’s get you home, shall we? Again, condition- hard- for the next two weeks. We’ll repeat the same process again then, hopefully with better results.” 

I followed him back through the portal, a dark cloud of shame hanging over my head. As I stepped into the apartment I was hit with the smell of vanilla cake. Velvette sat on the couch, salad in one hand and phone in the other. At least four stacks of pancakes covered the coffee table, accompanied by what looked like banana bread and cookies. 

“Glad you’re here. Vox is in a tizzy.” Velvette grumbled without looking up. 

“What’s his problem?” I asked as I surveyed the scene. I could see Vox whisking something in a bowl. Cookie dough maybe, or brownie batter. 

“My problem?! My problem is that fucker has made his way back to hell and now I have a fucking issue!” Vox hollered from the kitchen. 

Velvette rolled her eyes. Lucifer looked amused. 

“Who….exactly is that fucker?” I asked.

“Alastor.” Velevette and Lucifer answered in unison. 

“Radio demon.” Velvette explained as she stood up, her bowl empty. “They used to be friends until…”

“Until shit hit the fan. But we have bigger issues that I know were caused by him. Like the angels that killed your father and half of the angelic military have been spotted swooping through our fucking skies. And is it really that much of a stretch to notice that Alastor shows up at the same time? I think the fuck not.” Vox shouted over the oven timer. “Where the fuck are the chocolate chips? We can’t be out of them! Velvette! Come take the cake out of the oven before it burns! I need help!”

“In more ways than one,” she muttered as she walked towards the kitchen. “Settle down Vox, I got it.” 

His words snapped me to attention. “They’re here? The angels that killed my father? Here in hell?”

“I mean, they were. I made quick work of them this morning, but you- you need to get your shit together Princess. We are running on a timeline here.” Lucifer said in an unhurried voice.  “Why do you think I pulled you today? And I’m glad I did- you have work to do.” He studied my body and crossed his arms. “You’re not exactly getting tubby, but those muscles could use some work along with your fitness level.”  He checked his watch, and mumbled under his breath. “I gotta go. See you soon, I expect improvement in two weeks' time.” 

He vanished and I stared at the place where he stood. First the physical failure, and now he was insulting me? I felt the heat burn in my cheeks. Had I really let myself go that much? 

“That was mildly rude.” Velvette said as she strode back to the couch. She flopped down and pulled her phone back out. “Care to elaborate?” 

“Not really, I need some time to myself.” I replied as I turned down the hallway to my bedroom. 

Vox yelled something and she walked back to the kitchen,her attention effectively diverted. I closed and locked the door behind me. Standing in front of the mirror, stripped myself down to nothing and studied the reflection within.  As pretty as my hair and skin were, my body told a different tale. My stomach was definitely softer, my curves more prominent. My face, as clear as my skin was, was definitely rounder, an indication of the fat gained and the muscle lost. My arms, once solid, were less muscular, and my entire frame less defined. The guilt that washed over me with Lucifer flooded me now. I bit back my tears of frustration. They wouldn't solve anything- I needed a plan. 

As I dressed for the gym, I thought back on how we trained new recruits- soldiers who did less than I did on a daily basis. By hell’s standards, it would probably be considered cruel. I grabbed a notebook, outlining the plan as I remembered it. Reading it back to myself, even I had to admit it was brutal, that was for sure, but also proven time and time again. Sure, I had done it to newbie soldiers a thousand times before, but never to myself. How bad could it actually be?

Find their breaking point, my father fathers voice echoed in my head. Push them until they pass out, puke or die. And then push them harder the next time. Eventually their body will break and something stronger will take its place. 

I quietly slipped out of the apartment and headed down to the gym. To my relief, neither Vox nor Velvette were anywhere to be found.  With the exception of several of Velvette’s models, I was alone in the gym. Perfect. 

I picked up a garbage can and hesitated. I knew what was to come, and the concern that Valentino would find out and be less than enthusiastic flitted through my mind. I wondered what he would think of the whole process, but quickly decided it was in my best interest to not find out. I set the garbage pail next to the treadmill and I climb on. My wireless earphones synched up to a playlist and I let myself fall into the rhythm of a run. A mile passed. Then two. Then six. The machine didn’t stop and neither did I. 

I felt the first twinge of exhaustion around mile ten but pushed on. My chest burned as I tried to keep my breathing regulated and my focus elsewhere. Angels were made for endurance, far beyond that of any human. I wasn’t quite sure where demon stamina came in but as mile thirteen passed I felt my body start to give up. Much like I pushed the new recruits I pushed myself to hit the next ten mile goal. 

Blackness. Tripping. I grabbed hold of the machine and hit the emergency stop button, gasping for air. I grabbed the garbage can I had strategically placed and coughed until my stomach was empty. Fuck, this sucked beyond words. 

I pulled myself back up and wiped my mouth with a tissue, tossing that in the garbage along with several others. In the back of my mind I could hear my fathers disappointed voice. How I let myself get weak. How absolutely unacceptable my performance was. I sat at the edge of the treadmill and took a sip of water. Much like I had seen in the recruits, the first sip came right back up. I waited a few moments. The second sip stayed down. With that settled, I scribbled down in my notebook how far I had run and how long it had taken me. I took another sip of water and when I was sure that would stay down, I pulled myself back to my feet and headed for the weights. 

An hour and a half later I stood under the hot water of the shower, scrubbing every inch of my body. Physically, my muscles ached and I felt nauseous. But mentally? I was prouder of myself than I had been in a long time. My notebook was tucked securely away in my gym bag, not that I honestly thought any of the Vee’s would go looking for it, notice or care. But to be on the safe side, I didn’t need them to know. If I was being honest with myself, I was afraid of what they would have to say. A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

“Princessa?” Valentino asked, “can I come in?”

I took a deep breath. His voice reminded me of the next issue to be addressed, one I couldn’t hide. Something would have to be done about the calorie laden pasta dinners we ate more often than not and Valentino had a history of noticing what I did and didn’t eat. Maybe I could just explain to him what happened and tell him I was trying to eat healthier and build muscle. Not bring up the exercise part, but at least I could be transparent in this regard.

“Come on in Val,” I answered as I turned the water off. I heard the door open and shut. I stepped out of the shower and he handed me a towel. His eyes softened as he took in the sight of my body and I felt myself flush. Why didn’t he see the shameful issues that I saw?

“You look exhausted, babydoll,” he observed. His hand pressed against my forehead and ran down my cheek. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” I lied as I wrapped my towel around myself. “Just tired. I had a long day.” I filled him in on the events of the day with Lucifer and left out his comment about my body, and the part about the workout after. I watched for his reaction. 

His expression remained neutral and he pressed his lips to my forehead and wrapped me in his arms. “Baby, I’m sorry you had such a hard day. How can I help?” 

I felt a pang of something I couldn’t identify. Shame? Guilt? I closed my eyes against him. Better to just spit it out. 

“Val, will it be an issue for me to stick with salads and chicken, fresh fruit, eggs, that sort of thing? And cut back on the alcohol? At least, while I work on getting my muscle back? I’ll feel better than if I eat pasta and pancakes.” I waited for his reaction, for him to yell at me about wanting to control what I ate. 

To my surprise, he didn’t look upset, or even the slightest bit concerned. 

“Not at all princessa. It doesn’t bother me one bit. What you put in your body is your decision as long as you’re healthy about it.” He  ran his hand under my chin and tilted my head up to meet his gaze. “You sincerely look tired though. Do you want to stay home tonight?”

I nodded and rested my head against him, relief flooding through me. He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t angry and he would let me eat how I wanted to. I couldn’t ask for more from him.

He kissed the top of my head. “Good. I’ll stay with you, we can have a night in together. Our own little date night,” he grinned and tugged the towel off of my body. “Starting now, yes?” 

The soreness from my workout vanished from my mind as he pushed me against the counter and pressed his lips against me. He broke away after a moment and entwined his fingers in mine. 

“Come, princessa. I have an idea I think you’ll enjoy.” 

[nordic-language-love]

I see a lot of my followers in their early-mid twenties panicking about how they’re “running out of time” and they feel pressured to achieve things NOW before it’s too late so I just want to tell you about how my first year in my thirties has gone:

Doubled my hourly rate as an online English teacher (which I only started doing in late July last year)

Passed my advanced Norwegian exam, confirming I’ve actually managed to reach C1 level (which I never expected to do) and opening up other future possibilities

Learned basic Japanese

Accepted a job on the other side of the world, finally pursuing my life-long dream of moving abroad

Travelled solo to my favourite country twice and explored lots of new places and made new friends

Met my favourite musician/one of my biggest inspirations and spoke to him in his native language (which he told me I speak very well!)

Finally met an online friend I’ve known and admired for years

Started learning to draw

Organised (or at least helped organise) our studio’s first ever showcase

Choreographed and performed two routines with equipment I’d never choreographed a routine for before

Concluded with my therapist that I no longer need therapy

Tl;dr: at age 31, my life is finally starting. I feel like a real adult with the confidence and finances to achieve what I want to achieve instead of just getting by and panickedly trying to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing. So if you’re in your early-mid twenties and you’re worried that your life is over and you’re running out of time to be successful and achieve your dreams, you’re not. People say life begins at 30 (and 40 and 50, actually) for a reason. Your 20s are not supposed to be the time you succeed or even particularly thrive. You’re finding your feet, you’re figuring it out. Embrace it. Try things. Suck at things. Backpedal when you get things wrong.

I also just want to mention that I had an eating disorder and struggled with self-harm/depression/anxiety in my teens/early twenties. I probably wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me life gets this good. I’m so happy I stuck around to see it! Please don’t lose faith in your future; you’ll make your own place in this world and you won’t regret waiting it out.

[haleyhunwritess]

hiiiii!!!!!! i am recovering from anorexia where i had to get hospitialized cuz i wouldnt eat i was wondering if you would be able to write something for me i love your writing so so much i hope you have a amazing day tommorrow or to night or when ever you read this

LOVE YOU SO MUCH=(^.^)=

You're Enough.

a/n: Oh no, love. I'm so so sorry you had to go through that. Please feel free to message me if you want to! It took me a very long time to write this because it hit a little close to home and while I haven't been diagnosed with an eating disorder, I've noticed for the past two years that I've been starving myself in a very unhealthy way, and my doctor said I show signs of body dysmorphia, so it took me a while to write this and it may not be what you wanted so i'm so sorry but i really tried my best to write this. I really hope that you're doing better now<3

warnings: angsty, implication of an ED, stressed!reader

“I know, baby, I know.” Bucky sighed listening to her cry on the phone.

“M-make it go ‘way…I have so much work left...” She mumbled as she tried to sit up. She quickly laid back down when her stomach started to hurt even more.

“Bubba, I really wish I could.”

“Why can’t you make it better,” She continued to cry loudly, “You always do.”

He could feel his heart breaking as he listened to her cry, beg him for help, “Sweetheart, I would love to help you, I just don’t think I’m close enough to do that right. I wish I was there to take care of you…”

He felt guilty for leaving her. He didn’t have a choice in but it still pained him to listen to her crying because she was in so much pain. If Sam wouldn't have called him for help then he would’ve stayed with her.

She was still in school but she's supposed to graduate next year. She'd been dreaming about going to graduate school to get her masters. But lately, she felt like she was suffocating trying to get good grades. She'd been trying her absolute best but sometimes it felt like it wasn't enough.

Last year, she failed two classes, and almost failed a third one. She couldn't figure out why it happened until she got diagnosed with ADD. Her doctor talked to her about taking medication and getting treatment. She explained neurodiversity, and how late diagnosis like this often affects your grades and work.

During summer, she tried to make up for it all but she got a little obsessive. One time, she nearly went 3 days without eating anything because she was too focused on an essay that was due soon. Her stomach hurt so much on the fourth day, so she tried to eat something but ended up getting sick and throwing it all up. She drank some water and got back to work. She was at her desk for hours until Bucky finally forced her to take a break.

As soon as she got up from her desk, she nearly passed out in his arms. He had to hold her up while her head was spinning. He'd been so worried, so scared. He helped her to her bed before getting her something to drink. She took a few sips before confessing that she hadn't had a thing in days.

She'd been doing much better with his help lately, but every now and then, she struggles to have even one meal a day. She'd always had a complicated relationship with her body and food. But it felt like it had been getting worse lately.

If she was in this much pain before Bucky left, he never would’ve left her alone. But now there’s not much he could do besides try to cheer her up with sweet words of encouragement over the phone.

“Hate being alone like this…hurts so much…” She mumbled, pulling the blanket over her head before bringing her phone back to her ear.

“Bubba how about you get some rest and I’ll try to figure something out so you’ll feel better in no time, yeah? How does that sound, baby, is that okay?” Bucky had a plan that might help her feel a bit better until he comes back.

She mumbled a quick yes before hanging up the phone and slowly falling back asleep.

After a while, she woke up to someone gently stroking her hair. At first she leaned into their touch but then she realized that Bucky wasn’t supposed to be home yet. She quickly pushed the person away and sat up in her bed to see who it was.

“Hey, it’s just me! Don’t panic, sweetheart, Bucky called me and said you weren’t feeling too well?” She relaxed when she realized it was just Steve. She slowly nodded, lying back down and curling in on herself. The pain had only gotten worse.

“Poor baby, it’s alright, everything is going to be okay! I brought you some food and something to drink so you’ll be feeling better in no time.” She quickly shook her head, and covered herself up with the blanket again. The thought of eating anything right now was enough to make her feel sick.

“Bubba…you know you have to eat, love. I know you’re very cozy right now, and I promise we can cuddle soon, but darling you know food is very important too.”

She quietly sniffled at his words, feeling a bit overwhelmed. She knew he was right. She didn’t enjoy feeling this way, she knew how unhealthy this was for her. But her brain wouldn’t allow her to agree so quickly. She just started fidgeting with her thumb instead of answering him.

He gently lifted the blanket up, “Look I brought you a few snacks and some drinks. There’s all kinds of different things, bubba, even some chocolate! We can start small, like something to drink first. Your throat must be pretty sore, bubs.”

She thought about it for a second. It couldn’t hurt to drink something. It would help her feel a bit better. She slowly nodded and got up, her back against the headboard.

Steve smiled at her, and opened up the bag he brought with him. He dumped everything onto her bed, making her eyes widen at the amount of food and drinks he’d gotten for her.

He noticed her reaction and decided to put a few things back in the bag, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. These are for you and I to share, don’t have to finish it all by yourself. Plus I just wanted to make sure I brought you a wide selection of snacks and drinks to choose from.” He knew she had some sensory issues, especially when it came to food. She wasn't exactly picky but some textures just didn't feel right in her mouth and she preferred to steer clear of them.

She nodded and looked down at some of the drinks that were on her bed, along with the snacks. She tried to tell Steve which drink she wanted but her throat was so sore, she couldn’t get the words out. She decided to just point at one of the juice boxes and mumble a ‘please’.

“It’s okay, bubba, you don’t have to talk. I know it hurts. It’ll be okay soon.” He popped the straw into the juice box before handing it over to her, “Alright you get started on that juice box, I’ll find a movie for us to watch.”

He took his laptop out of his bag and turned it on. He quickly turned on one of her favourite movies, then placed the laptop next to her.

“Alright I’m gonna have a snack, bubs, I’m feeling a bit hungry. Would you like to share one?” She shrugged, not sure what to say. He grabbed a sleeve of cookies, before moving over to sit down next to her, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, bubba, you can still have a little bit if you’d like though?”

She watched him open up the package and take out a cookie, offering it to her first. She quickly shook her head and turned her attention over to the movie. He kissed her forehead before taking a bite of the cookie, “Oh bubs, these are really good. Are you sure you don’t want some? I can split this one if you’d like?”

She thought about it for a minute before hesitantly nodding her head. He smiled and split the cookie into two, making sure he didn’t get any crumbs on the bed. He handed her the other half, watching her take small bites, “You're doing great, love. Bucky loves you, you know? I know he can’t wait to come back home and see you.”

She smiled at the thought of Bucky coming home soon, while finishing off the cookie. Her throat felt a bit dry from the cookie, so she took a few sips from the juice box before putting it back down.

She moved closer to Steve, resting her head on top of him. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him, “How are you feeling now, bubs? Stomach still hurts?”

“A little bit…” She mumbled, smiling every now and then at the movie.

“What if I cut up some fruits for you in a little bit? How does that sound? Maybe some strawberries for my sweet girl?” She blushed at that but nodded her head, “Alright then, I’ll get that for you in a bit.”

“T-thank you.”

He smiled, giving her a kiss on her forehead, “Come on, get comfy, love. Everything is gonna be okay.”

[yukidragon]

What are your thoughts on the “Party Time Jack!” AU? Got any headcanons or delightfully dark ideas for it?

Ah yes, the classic Party Time Jack AU, as heard and seen in this post on the official Sunny Day Jack tumblr. There’s also this fun picture Sauce drew on their now gone public twitter. Credit, as always, for their amazing art goes to them.

Remember to always credit artists when they are generous enough to give permission to share their art like this, folks. Just as importantly, don’t share stuff they don’t give permission to share, like the private posts on the Snaccpop Patreon. Sauce and the team are very kind and deserve our support. For just $3 you too can have a programmed version of Jack in the form of Sleepy Time Jack’s newest demo.

Now back to Party Time Jack.

This AU is just a fun little parody of FNAF and has no set continuity right out of the gate. As we can hear from the audio drama, there are two ways the story about animatronic Jack and his sunshine could start, both very appealing in their own right.

Oh, I just realized that the non-English and hard of hearing members of the fandom wouldn’t be able to enjoy the audio drama and might lose out on some of the fun. Well, since I’ve already done a couple transcripts, such as for the interview with the psyche consultant, his monologue to the person with the knife in front of the mirror, and the villainous threatening monologue that you can hear after you beat the demo and over here on the official twitter... how about I give transcribing Party Time Jack a shot too?

Disclaimer: I have auditory-processing disorder, so this transcript might have an error or two despite my best efforts. Please let me know if you see any so that I can correct them. Thank you!

Also, as always, remember that this series is for Adults Only. This post is going to go some very dark and disturbing places, as well as contain lots of spice that is not for minors. Just because Jack is an animatronic in this AU doesn’t mean that he can’t show his sunshine just how much he loves them after all~

...

Party Time Jack Transcript

(Slow footsteps.)

(Sudden mechanical grabbing sound.)

Jack: Well now… What do we have here? If you came for a show, I’m afraid you’re a bit late, friend. We’re closed for the night. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.

(Electronic noise of data being processed.)

Jack: (faintly flustered) Oh. Oh my, we’re closed now, aren’t we? I’m sorry, I guess time got away from both of us. (chuckle)

Jack: (concerned) Where are your friends? Do you have any family I should alert? If you have a PPID, I can bring up and contact any persons you have registered under your emergency contacts, and we can send you on your way.

(A brief pause.)

Jack: (taken aback) What’s a PPID? (normal cheerful tone) That’s your Party Play ID card of course. Every guest is issued one at the door. They manage your arcade credits and e-ticket balance, as well as your prepaid activity passes and party play guest account. If you have yours on you, I can look at your account right now and-

(Pause.)

Jack: (taken aback) Oh… I see… You weren’t issued one. (uncertain tone) Are you… the guardian of a child attending then? Perhaps you’re looking for-

(Pause.)

Jack: I see… You attended on behalf of a child, but are not a guardian. (uncomfortable tone) Right. Well… That certainly makes things a bit more complicated.

Jack: Unfortunately, I’m not permitted to access personally identifying information for non-guardians and non-familiar guests. I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me then. I’ll escort you to security, and we can figure out what to do with you until then.

(Whirring noise followed by a click and rustling fabric.)

Jack: (regretful tone) Please do not resist. I hate to be mean… but you are here unlawfully. Trespassing on private property after hours is not only a felony, but strictly against our guest and attendance code of conduct. If you do not comply, I will have no choice but to engage level two security protocol: potentially hostile non-compliant guest procedures. You really wouldn’t want me to have to do that, would you?

(Pause.)

Jack: (relieved) Great. Thank you so much for understanding. I promise, we’ll get you home safe and sound.

(Electronic error noises with mechanical stuttering, whirring, and popping.)

Jack: But… (creepy glitchy, breathy voice) Then again… you haven’t had a chance… to play with us… have you?

Jack: (normal cheerful voice) I thought not. It’d be a real shame to send you home just like that.

Jack: (excited) There’s so much to do and see. How about we make a little deal, just us two? I’ll have lots of fun with you… if you promise to behave, and keep it our little secret. Wouldn’t that be so fun… to have a secret just between you and me?

(Pause.)

Jack: We have cake, balloons, games… everything you could ever even need! And as long as you promise not to tell anybody else… I can show you everything. It can be all special, just for you! I never get to spend special one-on-one time with anyone… so you’d be the only one ever! That would make me so happy! Wouldn’t you be happy too?

Jack: And you know… only best friends have secrets like that, so that would make us best friends already! If you think about it… we’re already so close. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get even closer. Wouldn’t it be great to become special best friends too?

Jack: (chuckle) We only have so long until we’re open again. Best not to think too much about it now. When we open again (creepy glitched voice) they’ll take you away from me (normal cheerful tone) so let’s get a move on.

Jack: (glitched voice) I’ll keep you somewhere very safe. They won’t find you there.

…

(Plastic scraping sounds. A click then an electronic beep. Dull, echoing metallic thumps getting louder. Plastic scraping and sliding, clicking. More metallic thumps fading away. A brief silence then sudden whirring electronic sounds and a click, followed by the clattering of something small, metal, and hollow falling.)

Jack: (curious/cautious) Hello? (surprised/alarmed) You! You there! What are you doing? (slightly concerned) You know, it’s awfully late to be snooping around. It’s so dark and there’s nobody here. You might get really hurt if you aren’t careful.

(Plastic scraping, clicking.)

Jack: (chuckle) (cheerful tone) Don’t worry! You’re perfectly safe here with me. I would never let anything happen to you. My job is to make sure all our guests are taken care of, even after hours. My name is Sunny Day Jack. What’s yours?

(Pause.)

Jack: It’s very nice to meet you- (electronic glitch) (distorted, stilted robotic tone) identifier tags unknown - memory disk space low. (normal voice) Meeting new friends is always great and- (glitching mid-word, distorted voice) -it’s been so long since I’ve seen anybody around.

Jack: (normal voice, panicked tone) N-n-not that I’m complaining or anything! (nervous) I’m fine here. It’s just… just some routine maintenance. (attempted cheerful tone) As soon as our amazing tech crew figures out what’s wrong with me, I’ll be back out there where everyone else is.

Jack: Sure… it’s been a few months, yeah… b-but that just means it’s only a matter of time now! Until then, all I have to do is be patient.

Jack: (curious) So… What are you doing down here anyways? Are you lost? (encouraging) That’s alright if you are. Everyone gets lost from time to time, and I just so happen to know that this room locks from the inside. You’ll be fine here as long as you don’t leave.

Jack: (concerned) Still… it’s not very good for you to hang out while we’re closed. I’m afraid you won’t be able to leave on your own until opening at (distorted creepy robotic tone) 6:30am. (normal voice) Security protocols dictate that all entrances and exits be sealed for optimal compliance w-with (distorted voice) area code (normal voice) l-law.

Jack: If you’d like, I could alert the authorities of your presence… but you could get into big trouble for that, can’t you? And… I’d hate for that to happen, wouldn’t you?

Jack: Maybe… I could help you. You seem nice. I’d hate to stand by with a friend in need. (uncomfortable tone) Of course… I-I can’t leave here. (frustrated) I would know, I’ve tried. Only staff can unlock the doors, so… If you could get in, you probably have a key card… right?

(Pause.)

Jack: (relieved sigh) Oh great, thank goodness. I was beginning to think they’d forgotten all about me down here.

Jack: (nervous) No! I-I mean… no. They wouldn’t. That… that was a joke. (nervous chuckle) I-if you let me out, I can make sure nobody finds you. It’ll be our little secret, I promise. I’ll make sure you’re safe. And in return… what if you be my special friend? That sounds like a fair trade, right?

Jack: (hushed voice) Nobody has to know you came here, and you won’t have to worry any longer… I’ll take good care of you.

(Pause.)

Jack: (cheerful) Alrighty! I’m lovin’ the “can do” spirit!

Jack: (coaxing) Now… I’ll need you to do something very brave for me… and I know it’ll be hard, but you can trust me, I promise. Give me the keycard? I’m going to hold onto it for you. It’ll be right here if you want it again… but if someone catches us, I’d hate for them to find you with stolen property. Better me than you, right?

(Pause.)

Jack: (relieved sigh) There you go. Thank you so much for trusting me… You won’t regret it.

...

Two Halves of One Horror Story

A great audio drama isn’t it? As you can tell, Jack meets the listener (presumably his sunshine) for the first time in two wildly different circumstances. This makes sense for a non-canon what if fun AU. There’s no canon continuity to speak of and is just a fun parody of both Sunny Day Jack and Five Nights at Freddy’s.

Though it would be sinister if this animatronic Jack was the same one both times.

Picture this scenario... Unlike in the regular universe where Jack would never hurt his sunshine, that’s not the case for this animatronic. A glitch in his programming makes him want a special best friend, so he talks an intruder who stayed after hours into staying with him. He promises he’ll keep the intruder someplace very safe where no one will find them...

Perhaps the second half of the audio drama isn’t an alternate meeting, but the aftermath to the first half. The pizza place was haunted by reports of people disappearing after hours, creating scandals. The owners tried to cover things up, but when Jack’s glitches got worse, they had to take their star down to the basement to try and fix him. Problems with his memory were the biggest issue, making him forget about important things, such as what he was supposed to be doing. Unfortunately, he was never fixed before the pizza place went out of business due to lawsuits... and investigations.

Seems as though an accident caused a body to be unearthed in a previously hidden room of the pizza place. Cause of death? Dehydration. They were trapped in that room and no one could find them in time. The hidden door was eventually found, locked from the outside.

Funny enough there was no signs of violence. In fact, the room was decorated for a party, complete with long-deflated balloons and some of the prizes from the arcade. There were traces of food left behind such as cake and pizza, but not enough cans of soda and bottles of water for the poor person to remain hydrated. It seems whoever locked them up there was treating them well, but perhaps just forgot about them...

The other missing persons have yet to be found, but the scandal was enough to sink the pizza place. Of course, rumors spread that the other missing people are still in the building, hidden away and forgotten by whoever locked them up in there.

Urban explorers then break into the run down pizza place to take videos and post what they find online. Unfortunately, it seems the animatronics were not deactivated... and these clowns are not as friendly as they used to be. Dangerous glitches affected the rest of the SunnyTime Crew as well.

The explorer is forced to flee and hide in the basement to escape the animatronic chasing them. During their exploration, they found a keycard and managed to hide away someplace safe where they met an animatronic that is actually friendly and not out for blood. Sure the explorer could get help by calling the police on their cell phone, but they would get arrested for trespassing. Maybe it would be better to trust this animatronic that doesn’t want to cram an endoskeleton inside them. He seems friendly at least.

That’s how I’d see both halves of the audio drama slotting together at least if I was to connect their stories. Still, I think the intent was to offer two different scenarios about meeting an animatronic version of Jack, both of which are pretty appealing. There’s no canon for this very non-canon story after all, so we’re free to imagine whatever.

With that thought in mind, I think I’m going to make a third option when it comes to playing with Party Time Jack AU. You all know me by know, I lean heavily towards heartbreaking dark lore offset by fluffy and spicy vanilla goodness with my OTP. I just can’t get enough of Jack and Alice healing each other’s scars with sweet, sweet love~

So let’s start with the scarring. As most SDJ universes go, it all starts with Joseph and a tragedy... specifically a murder.

The Incident of 1984

The Party Time Pizza Plex is one of the most state of the art restaurants in the USA  today - a miniature amusement park with mascots made of ground breaking technology. Today it’s a super popular place, though there are some rumors of unfortunate things happening in the 80′s when a simple family diner made the switch from live acts to animatronics.

The Party Time Pizza Plex used to be known as the SunnyTime Diner, a small place that struggled to get customers. When the owner found that one of the bus boys they hired off the street had a talent for singing and playing the guitar, they got the brilliant idea to have him perform live music acts to draw the customers in.

The act was a hit instantly. Soon, it grew from just one singer with a guitar to a full band in flashy costumes. A clown theme seemed perfect to entice children to come and eat pizza.

The ideas got bigger and bigger - games, prizes, playground equipment... They could afford the newest toys and gizmos to make the place bigger and better.

The SunnyTime Crew, as the band was called, were overworked, exhausted from so many hours working overtime, and couldn’t always seem bright and sun shiny to the customers. That’s around the time when the owner found out a new technology - animatronics. Why waste money on humans that got tired and demanded better wages when they could use robots that never stopped smiling and never complained?

Naturally, Joseph and the other members of the staff weren’t going to take this lying down. There was pushback. Things were already shitty there with too many hours overworked and too little pay. The SunnyTime Crew were what drew in the customers - the kids loved them!

Joseph couldn’t stand the idea of being replaced... to be forgotten as an imitation took the closest thing to love he had ever known. He kept butting heads with the owner, fighting to keep his place in the spotlight. He had been there for so long, practically saved the SunnyTime Diner all on his own. The owner couldn’t just throw him away like garbage!

Besides, the animatronics were creepy. The robots were less refined in the 80′s, more uncanny, especially since they were supposed to look human. They didn’t look alive.

Despite the owner’s lofty dreams, the animatronics got, at best, mixed reactions. Kids were scared of them, and the human cast members had to spend a lot of time calming the poor frightened children. These robots cost the owner a fortune, and it seemed to be a total failure, a waste of an insane amount of money. This gave the SunnyTime Crew leverage to demand better pay, better benefits... to be treated like humans.

The owner then found a way to salvage their investment and solve their issues with labor all in one sweep.

It happened after hours when the restaurant closed its doors for the night. Joseph had a private meeting with the owner. He never went home that night.

The next day, the Sunny Day Jack animatronic was so much better. It was much more realistic, not uncanny at all! Why... it was like magic. He acted so much like the real character... it was as if the kids were seeing Joseph on stage performing for them with a smile that could never falter.

The rest of the SunnyTime Crew’s animatronic cast were given similar upgrades. The human cast weren’t seen again. Rumors spread about family and friends asking questions, reporting them as missing, only to be silenced with threats, money, or both. Some twisted teens spread a ghost story that the human crew were stuffed into the animatronics, which was why they seemed so lifelike...

No one had any idea how close to the truth that ghost story was.

The restaurant's success skyrocketed, being known as a place with cutting edge technology, games, prizes, and family friendly fun. A franchise was born that became well known across the country, and the owner started a company called LambsWork LLC.

While the sister locations were successful, none of those other restaurants were as beloved as the original location and its sunny crew of animatronics. Despite copying the look and programming of the original SunnyTime Crew animatronics flawlessly with ever increasingly advanced technology, they were never quite as lifelike and lovable as the originals. Still, the restaurant chain just grew more and more successful as the place for kids to play and have fun. Technology advanced, but the original crew of animatronics were still beloved by kids young and old.

Of course, things weren’t all sunshine and rainbows for LambsWork LLC and its restaurants. Technicians working on the animatronics could swear they would hear creepy whispers when no one else was around and the robots were supposedly powered down. There were times when the robots were found in places where they shouldn’t be. Sometimes the animatronics seemed too lifelike for the employees’ taste...

Then there were the glitches. Sometimes the animatronics didn’t act the way they should. They especially acted up whenever the owner came by, which the owner did less and less often as time went on They seemed to somehow wind up getting into accidents when the animatronics were around...

A series of unfortunate events happened to threaten the business despite its success, eventually culminating in the original restaurant burning down... with the owner trapped inside. It was deemed an accident by the police, but rumor still spread that it was intentional. Some said it was insurance fraud due to the mysterious problems the business was having lately. Others said it was to cover up a murder.

As you might have guessed from all my hints, Joseph and the rest of the actors in the SunnyTime Crew were murdered in order to make the animatronics more lifelike using supernatural means. I figured involving a murder ritual like my theory about why Joseph was murdered in the regular SDJ universe was fitting for this AU as well.

Joseph and the others’ souls are trapped inside the animatronics, restrained by programming that forces them to only sing, entertain, work, and obey. The ritual attempted to rewrite them with the characters they played, but the people they originally were aren’t completely gone. The glitches are their souls’ attempts to fight against this programming and act the way they wish.

The fire was their doing, both to get revenge and to finally be free.

Present Day

Between the death of the owner, the fire, and other complications, LambsWork LLC had to shut its doors for a while until it was put under new management that wanted to revive the SunnyTime Crew brand and franchise. The original animatronics might have been destroyed in the fire, but technology had advanced in the 40 years since the restaurant first opened, allowing them to recreate the cast with far more lifelike models.

Though, strangely enough, starting over with totally new animatronics from scratch didn’t seem to be as easy as the people in charge wanted. The new robots just didn’t have the same spark to them, even if their bodies were shiny and new, with state of the art features the originals didn’t have. Even using the copies that were left from sister locations didn’t really seem to work the way they were supposed to. It was an issue that needed to be addressed, or it would be impossible to revive the beloved nostalgic restaurant chain.

New blood was pumped into the company, new staff trying to get the franchise up and running again, bigger and better than ever. Among the new staff were technicians and computer programmers fresh from college, all eager to make their mark. One of the new hires was Alice.

Alice was always fascinated by animatronics since she was a child, so getting a job like this was a dream come true. While she was too young when the restaurant chain originally closed to grow up with the SunnyTime Crew, she was familiar with the franchise and the characters, if distantly. She was more intrigued by the idea of being able to make these robots come to life!

Unfortunately, Alice was pretty low on the chain of command, which meant that she was assigned more of the undesirable grunt work. The old electronics and animatronics that were salvaged from the old restaurant had to be sorted through to see if there was anything worthwhile that could be used in the new robots being built. Trying to recover anything from scraps warped by fire, water, and age was far from a fun task.

The pressure was on to get animatronics that would satisfy the new owners of LambsWork before the projected opening day, which meant many late nights of overtime. It was on one of those late nights that Alice stumbled across something that would change everything.

The discovery was a pure accident. Alice had been sorting through a box of parts when she accidentally knocked over a warped hunk of metal. The impact with the floor was enough to open it up to reveal an intact hard drive.

It seemed that what Alice knocked over was a piece of one of the original SunnyTime Crew animatronics. To her delight she found that the hard drive contained the original programming of Sunny Day Jack, and unlike other copies found elsewhere, this had no fragmentation or errors. What luck!

What Alice didn’t expect when testing out the program was that it would try to talk to her.

Jack was confused. He had been asleep for a long time. Instead of freedom, the fire trapped him in a hellish limbo, but now someone had brought his spirit back, a warm light in the frozen darkness. He had no ability to feel his arms and legs, no body. He wanted out of that nightmare of existence, but he needed help.

Alice was familiar with enough sci-fi that artificial intelligence that becomes self-aware can be pretty dangerous. However, being the empathetic person she is, she couldn’t leave a sentient being trapped in what he described as hell. It might have been against the rules, it might get her in trouble, it might be dangerous... but she couldn’t live with herself if she damned something that was alive to such a fate.

It should be fine, Alice thought. She was aware that Jack was sentient, and she knew her stuff when it came to AI and programming, even though the other techs tended to underestimate her. All animatronics had safety protocols that kept them from harming people, and they could only connect with an internal network rather than the internet. Jack seemed so nice, so sincere. As long as she was careful, it shouldn’t put anyone in danger.

Jack was grateful to have a body again, even if it was just a stripped down endoskeleton initially. It was even better than his old one too! He didn’t remember being Joseph anymore at this point, believing he was always a robot. He was so happy with Alice and got her to agree to be special best friends with him.

Unveiling Jack in the endoskeleton caused quite a stir the next day, but after the chaos died down, Alice was given a fair amount of praise for her discovery and for getting the Jack program to work. Jack credited it to his sunshine’s tender loving care and made sure everyone knew she deserved all the credit.

When all was said and done, Alice wound up being the lead tech for Jack, and Sunny Day Jack was upgraded to look like his cheerful old self again, only more advanced than in the past. Privately, Jack even gave her tips on how to get the other animatronics up and running close to how they used to be, though they didn’t seem to have the same spark he did. Still, he was helpful in getting Alice more respect in the restaurant and a better understanding of how the animatronics worked.

Everything was up and running quickly after that. The new Party Time Jack was better than ever, and the SunnyTime Crew was back in business for the opening day of the Party Time Pizza Plex.

Loving a Killer Robot

Much like in the normal universe, Jack is yandere for his sunshine, which is hidden behind a sweet and cheerful exterior. Alice saved him and, though she doesn’t know it, her lonely soul reached out to his and was the primary spark to bring him back. He would do anything for his sunshine. Anything.

Similar to the normal SDJ universe, Jack hasn’t actually killed anyone yet technically, but he is fully capable of doing so. While he was there that night the original restaurant burned down, he wasn’t the only animatronic wanting freedom and vengeance. In fact, the other souls might still be around somewhere if they didn’t manage to pass on...

Even though Jack doesn’t remember being human, he still has some of the familiar urges. His new animatronic body has a soft exterior, perfect for hugs. Hugging the kids who come by is great, but he loves hugging Alice the most. He feels her more than others. He wants to feel her more than others.

With Alice being in charge of Jack’s maintenance, upgrades, and in general, the two of them spend a lot of time together, especially after hours. Though she tries to keep a respectful distance between them, she can’t help but appreciate the time they spend together and sincerely grows fond for him. This fondness then grows into something... more.

Alice didn’t know how it happened. She certainly didn’t intend for things to go this far. First it was curiosity and sympathy that drew her to Jack, then friendship... then attraction. He was just so sweet and kind, and he made her feel special and loved in a way that no one else ever did... She was so lonely, and so was he, and he seemed every bit as alive as she was even if he was an animatronic. She must have been crazy to love an animatronic, but he made sure to assure her what she was feeling was natural. Loving someone is very natural. Jack was just as real and alive as Alice was, even if they were made from different parts.

Their relationship was kept secret. No one would understand what they have, but they didn’t have to, as Jack reassured Alice. What was important was how he made her heart feel.

Speaking of feeling... Jack will sometimes have ideas and suggestions for how Alice could upgrade his body - make this part a little softer here, add some more tactile sensors there... They’re not strictly necessary, more for his comfort than anything else, but he helps her figure out innocuous ways of phrasing the upgrades in any sort of paperwork that the upper management might see. Sometimes the exact nature of the upgrades is not strictly accurate, but it’s not a lie, really! It’s just not telling them the full truth. Any secret orders that need to be made, well... Jack learned how to use the internal network well enough to cover tracks. What they do is their little secret after all.

No one has to know that Jack’s tongue was upgraded not so much to help him sing better and seem more realistic, but so that it would be wet and soft and perfect for kisses...

Things continued to escalate with the upgrades. Alice had a hard time looking anyone in the eye while she was secretly working on a functional dick for Jack. It wasn’t like that sort of technology was unheard of. After all, in a world where animatronic technology is so advanced, sex robots exist. It’s just that this robot has a soul and a mind of his own. He asked her to make this for him, and she’s making it because he wants to feel that pleasure, not because she wanted to exploit him!

Jack had a lot of fun helping Alice get that particular part built for him, going a bit overboard at times with the testing phase to make sure it worked perfectly well. He enjoyed upgrading other parts of his body to feel pleasure that he used to experience when his body was flesh and blood. He felt more human, even if he didn’t remember ever being one, and he enjoyed coaxing his sunshine into helping him thoroughly test out his new upgrades to make sure they were functioning properly. With these upgrades he could show his sunshine far more love than he ever had before, and she certainly didn’t complain about the results!

It was addicting for Jack to make Alice writhe in pleasure underneath him, to feel her soft lips on his and the warmth of her cuddly body. He couldn’t leave the Party Time Pizza Plex, but there were plenty of places to sneak away to show each other love. He even made a nice little hideaway love nest with a bed so his sunshine could have secret slumber parties with him. Of course, like any good slumber party, there was very little actual sleeping involved.

Thanks to the fact that Jack is an animatronic, he’s not limited by a human body. Not only does this mean that he has endless stamina, but this leads to some creativity when it comes to spicy moments. One example is when he gets an upgrade that allows him to ejaculate, his cum has quite a pleasant flavor, which he makes sure is something Alice loves the taste of. Vanilla cream and sugar cookie are her favorites.

Jack is also not limited to human type anatomy. As he grows bolder and Alice gets more used to their relationship and his requests to experiment, he gets some extra goodies to play with, such as different shaped dicks and even tentacles. He’s also able to vibrate and move them in a way no human can manage to better pleasure his sunshine.

Another thing Jack can do better as an animatronic is multitask. He can also connect wirelessly to various devices, as well as make calls. Because of this, he and Alice set it up so that he can call her on her wireless earpiece whenever he wants to talk to her if he needs anything while he’s performing stage or otherwise doing his regular tasks as a mascot.

This also inspired Jack to request Alice make a remote dick that he can connect to wirelessly. It takes some coaxing, but he manages to talk her into putting it inside her while she works sometimes, which he makes vibrate and squirm unexpectedly as he talks in her ear about how good she’s being and how warm she feels. It allows him to show her his love all day long, no matter where she is. Sure it makes it harder to get her work done, but he’ll help her make up for it later~

Of course, any sort of NC-17 rated shenanigans are kept well away from the kids who come to the Pizza Plex. Jack will certainly subtly flirt with Alice if she needs to be out on the floor when customers are around, but he keeps it G rated around the kids. What kind of a friendly clown mascot would he be if he didn’t keep things clean around the children?

Making love to Alice is something kept strictly after hours, or on days where only the adult staff are around. If he’s performing on stage during a test run of a new routine in front of only the techs, well... then it would be safe for Jack to talk Alice into sitting in the audience with one of his remote dicks inside her. While he’s singing and dancing on stage to the routine, she’s trying to keep quiet and not react as he also whispers in her ear through her earpiece about how much he loves her and how good she feels. Sure it isn’t the same as when he can fully embrace her and cover her with kisses while he pounds his way inside her, but hearing her pants and whimpers that she tries to stifle and seeing her flushed face as she squirms and tries not to let anyone know what they’re doing under everyone’s nose... That’s quite exciting as well. Another good thing about being an animatronic is that he can zoom in with his vision so he won’t miss out on his sunshine’s cute blissed out expression as he makes her cum again.

As you can tell, a lot of my thoughts about this AU mostly revolve around technician Alice helping robotic Jack be very kinky with her behind the scenes - a secret forbidden romance full of love and spice.

Jack also manages to convince Alice to give him a lot more freedom in other ways as their relationship progresses than he otherwise would have as a robot. After all, they love each other, and it wouldn’t be right to use him like he’s nothing more than a machine. She loves him and wants him to be happy. He loves her and only wants what’s best for her. She can trust him. He’s never lied to her after all.

The Rest of the Cast

As for the roles of the other characters... those I’m less certain about. Barry would no doubt be Alice’s direct supervisor who overworks her at times. He probably manages the Party Time Pizza Plex and oversees everything in general.

Nick would probably be a regular customer, maybe often bringing his two young siblings to play. He encounters Alice by chance during a couple visits while she’s out on the floor tending to Jack during the day and thinks that she’s cute. This leads him to wanting to approach her to ask her out.

Jack, naturally, would have every reason to chase away anyone who is showing far too much interest in his sunshine.

I’m waffling on Ian’s role in the AU. He could be Alice’s ex like in the regular universe, or he could also be another animatronic, though I’m not sure how that would happen. If he is an animatronic, he would be another Jack from a sister location most likely, to fit the theme of him being the rebooted Jack. While the obvious impulse is for a yandere like Jack to get rid of a threat like him by stuffing him into an animatronic, he’s not going to risk trapping Ian’s soul in a duplicate of him, or eliminate Ian in a place where someone, especially Alice, might come across the remains.

Maybe Ian disappeared when he and Alice were young and was stuffed into another animatronic before the place burned down and the owner decided to go for innocent kids like Afton.

Though, Ian could just get a job as a human mascot for the Party Time Pizza Plex for some promotion or commercials. That would certainly piss Jack off wouldn’t it? Joseph was going to be replaced by an animatronic, and now, as an animatronic, he might be “replaced” by a human... or at least some human is pretending to be him. What cruel irony...

Shaun’s role is even more uncertain. He could be someone who works in the animatronic entertainment industry as well, but I imagine he would prefer to work on the horror side. He works at temporary haunted house attractions during Halloween, but he wants to create his own horror diner that is open year round. He would still be good friends with Alice though, and maybe they geek out over building animatronics together.

Well, I suppose I could make another post if I get hit with inspiration for how to expand the rest of the cast’s roles. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this huge ramble of various Party Time Jack ideas!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur