#late night posting... it was just something on my mind. ill reblog it tomorrow for those already in bed now

[charrfie]

I've been coming to peace with art being difficult for me lately.

[tizzymcwizzy]

wip game!! :D

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!)  I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? Dnd campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!

thanks @zivazivc @anna-scribbles and @carpisuns for tagging me! this is really good timing cause i have SO fucking many wips that im working on rn hddhhd

also! im gonna be leaving for vacation today! so! i may answer your ask tomorrow and not rn cause i need to get on a plane! dhdhhdJDJDHFG please feel free to send lots of asks about multiple tho, there's too many of these

(some date back to around 2019 some are very recent as of like, yesterday)

DIVIDED BY FANDOM AND TYPE:

miraculous ladybug

ART WIPS:

adrinette cuddle hours

horror

jumpscare

recognized

marichat cuddles

rings (on makeup file)

marichat painting nails

dump and stuff

digital redraws

chat noir comic

DUMP (sketches)

DUMP (memora)

whose woods these are marichat

tizzy's wips

disguise

more dump

letters

fashion kids

thinking of family

trapped

ladymonk designs

marichat romeo juliet

ghost of your past

don't ask me what this means

nightgown adrien

mlb x toh crossover

FICS:

asnyr (a stranger's new years resolution)

FINALLY THE LIBRARY AU

plus one

memora

the whisps decide her fate

villain au 2.0

when i wake there you are, just for me

it's you

of flowers and feathers

he could handle this

"we're not like everyone else," felix said

adrien bitching at his dad blurb

"god, and the fact that I would let her,"

ladymonk

POETRY:

oh to the truest love of things

how i knew it was over

ladynoir kissing poetry

she says i love you

oh dear god what is it to be a man in love

the owl house

ART WIPS:

hollow mind

hunter sketchdump

get yo girl bitch

outfits

lumity kiss

mlb x toh crossover

toh and at dumps

hunter redraw doodle

waffle house

(the following are from the past week)

truama talk

sandwich

give me your hand

makeover

makeover dump

hit him in a heartbeat now

something that you once where

white boy wednesday

he's a hunter

leave him alone

FICS/CONCEPTS:

late night walks through a green wood

memories of most exquisite anguish

"oh my goodness, Philip? Is that you?"

hexsquad motorcycle

hunters journey down the knee notes

POETRY:

there's this string that ties us together

is this what it's like to be loved without condition?

personal/other

skid and mari

untitled

snales

ocs

class 3

him

SNAIL WIP

last girl

the seamstress

weird

danny testing

class 5

stuff

GUY

whatever the fuck

marcie

dilves

CHRIST that was long,, anyway there's no way in hell i can tag enough people so ill abstain dfghhhff feel free to do this if you want to tho!

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

A Clarification On My Feelings Re: Fantastic Beasts

First of all... hi. I know that I don’t really use this blog that much anymore, I have a new blog that now operates as my main blog over on @alwaysahiccupandastrid, and I rarely make original posts here - most of the posts on here these days are reblogs of stuff I’ve either posted or reblogged on my main blog, just because I want to keep this blog alive still.

The reason I’m making this particular post is because I wanted to talk about some stuff that’s been on my mind, specifically in regards to the new Beasts film since the full trailer is releasing tomorrow, and I want to express my feelings without it being written off as just hate or whatever. I originally wrote this as a thread on twitter but it was a) constrained by the twitter character limit, and b) written while I was in the middle of an all-night Lord of the Rings Extended Edition Trilogy marathon in London last night, so my mind wasn’t quite with it to say the least. But because of circumstances, I feel I should probably post it here too, though with hopefully much clearer reasoning and the like.

So, I’ll be honest: I want to be excited about the new film. I do. Any of you who’ve followed this blog since 2016 will have seen at least one post from me proclaiming how much I love the series, how much it means to me etc etc. I’m not going to go on about that because frankly it’s been said to the point it’s tiring. If you’d said to me three years ago, “guess what! Secrets of Dumbledore is the third film! Trailer incoming!”, I would have lost my mind and been so hyped. Part of me is. But there’s also a part of me that, to be honest, isn’t excited and I want to explain it as best as I can because it’s been on my mind.

To be perfectly blunt, I’m not sure I want to go back to the person I was when I was a Beasts fan.

During late 2016-early 2019, I grew a following for being a Newtina fan and fanfic writer - I got attention for it, not all of it necessarily good. At first it was nice comments, an avalanche of follows, new friends... but then I will admit that I let the “popularity” get to my head. I was not in a good place already - huge life change because I had started my first year of uni just before the first film came out, my nan was sick, my mental health was already bad - and it began to reflect in my behaviour towards both myself and many others. Even though I loved the films and they gsve me joy, I was so desperate to be seen as - for lack of a better phrase - “The Ultimate Number One Fan” to the point that I actually made myself ill. I was ignoring my university work in favour of writing fanfiction, I was replying to anon hate messages I received and making it worse by fanning the fire, I would ignore my real life friends/family so I could watch Beasts repeatedly or obsess over it online, and I even slacked off at both uni and work by hiding in the restrooms to make fan posts.

During this time, I had a Beasts instagram that is still up and running; I don’t really post on it that often nowadays, and I mostly use it to keep in touch with a small circle of Eddie fans. But during this particular period - namely between the release of the first movie and the release of the second - what started as a fan account just to post pictures on so I didn’t appear weird or annoying to the uni people following me on instagram became something very toxic in my life. I was so desperate to post exclusive pictures and interviews and news first on my page, and I felt awful if someone else did it before me. I wanted the attention of being the “Best Fanpage”, I wanted to get likes and follows because the attention boosted me up and made me feel validated. 

It wasn’t just about the followers, of course, because I love the franchise! But I would see accounts with more followers and feel irrationally jealous. I would make myself feel awful by comparing myself and my posts, would make myself feel awful because I perceived it as me being “not as good” as others at being a fan, which is of course complete bullshit. I was like a petty child. I did the same with my fanfiction too, comparing myself to other writers in the fandom and getting angry for no reason if my fics did “worse” in terms of comments or likes.

At the time, I claimed Beasts was helping me through my mental health problems, but I used my mental health and love of the series as an excuse to dismiss people when they called me out on my negative behaviour and hid behind the “I’m just a huge fan and it saved my life, you can’t be mean to me!” mentality. While it’s true that it did help me at that time, I definitely did use it as a shield to pretend my behaviour wasn’t poor.

I’m not placing blame on the franchise for this, by the way, this was me and me alone. Looking back, I do not like the person I was during this time, when I was at my most obsessive, and again that’s on me alone. While I maintain that the fandom in general is a toxic place to be, and that I didn’t deserve hateful messages telling me to end my life nor the ones mocking me over the death of my grandmother, it is my fault that I didn’t remove myself from the situation and instead added to the toxicity. 

To be honest, I was a horrible person because I let the attention I suddenly received go to my head. It was so bad that at the CoG premiere, I cried and was extremely depressed DESPITE meeting Eddie, Jude and Ezra, all because I hadn’t gotten another certain cast member to meet me (we all know who that is, let’s leave it at that). I was extremely ungrateful at the time, and looking back I’m so ashamed that this was my reaction to being lucky enough to meet THREE actors from this series, however briefly. 

Shortly after the second film, the tumblr purge happened and my account was temporarily disabled - obviously I’ve since recovered it, but it took several months and I had to start a new blog (which I tagged already). It felt like a blow as this account has been active since 2011, and I went from about 3000 followers to having to start from scratch. At the time, I was completely devastated. Now looking back, I realize that it was a blessing in disguise.

In February 2019, things shifted completely: I watched the entire How To Train Your Dragon trilogy for the first time. I was working at a cinema, and we were showing the third/final film which had just come out, and I accidentally saw the ending of it while on shift - for some reason, seeing what looked like an emotional heartfelt ending to something I’d only ever been vaguely aware of made me want to watch it, so I watched the first two films at home/online before scoring a free ticket for the final film. Like with Beasts, I quickly became invested and obsessed with HTTYD - but my experience with it was different, fresh, positive.

I didn’t feel pressured to be the No. 1 fan, even when I made a HTTYD fan account. I didn’t feel like I had to prove I was a fan. The HTTYD fandom accepted me with completely open arms. The author of the original books loved the tattoo I got in dedication to the series. I’ve interacted online with some of the voice cast. The voice of the main character Hiccup (Jay Baruchel) has been especially lovely to me and I’m so thankful to him because having him like my replies to his tweets, and most importantly him wishing me a happy birthday this year meant the world to me. HTTYD made me so indescribably happy and still does. For the first time in a long time, I started to heal and feel okay again.

HTTYD was just the start of my healing and becoming a better person than I was; since putting my obsession with Beasts on hold for a bit, I’ve managed to graduate university with an Upper-Second class, and I now work a new job with an agency that supplies staff to schools who need it - teaching/TA work is not what I want to do with my life, but it’s something to get me by and I’m happy with it for now. I’ve started writing two original books, started streaming video games, and I even take part in community night streams with friends, one of whom I worked with extensively on my drama degree at uni. I have a better relationship with my family, cut out a toxic/narcissistic best friend from my life after years of suffering, and I feel I am a much happier human being. I’ve found love in so many different fandoms, in listening to a new band, in drawing.

Since this, there’s also been a lot of drama within the Beasts fandom as well as with filming/production: Johnny Depp being unjustly fired, leaks about certain characters not getting screentime/being shafted, delays, the author being a massive TERF... Gradually, the excitement I once had for the rest of the Beasts films and for the two films already released just faded away. There is so much negativity towards the next film from Depp fans, people who already hated the Beasts films, former fans who are rightfully upset about JKR etc, and the fact is that I don’t want to be surrounded by that. Already I feel the toxicity and negativity invading my mind, and I don’t like it. I don’t like that again I’m starting to panic and feel pressure to update my fan account the second the new trailer drops tomorrow, like if I don’t then I suck as a fan.

I don’t like that people in this fandom - and this is very much a Twitter problem - take things so seriously and like something said or even NOT said indicates if someone is a good person. I’m tired of drama being made out of nothing. Just these past two days, there’s been a whole ass drama on twitter because Tina fans (like myself) have been annoyed by multiple leaks of Tina have like 60 seconds of screentime, and not being in the teaser added to this; somehow, certain fans took this as an attack on Eulalie Hicks (a new character) and started saying Tina fans are racist, which is bonkers to me. Wanting to see more of a character we already love and know doesn’t mean we hate a new character. I’m all for calling out actual cases of racism, homophobia, ableism and other bigotry, but at this point it’s a literal joke because I haven’t seen a single person make such a comment in regards to this new character - either I’ve blocked every single person I should, or people are just looking for drama and clout.

It just strikes me as odd that in all the fandoms I’ve been in over the years - Glee, Marvel, Witcher, HTTYD, TLOU - Beasts is the only one where I feel both excitement and utter dread at the prospect of new content. Literally all of the fandoms I’ve mentioned have had toxic aspects about them, and yet it hasn’t impacted me like all of this Beasts stuff does. I don’t know if it’s me being scared of the negativity and arguing that ALWAYS arises, no matter what - because there’s now always comments saying we should boycott the film for one reason or another, always comments abusing a certain character or fans of a character - or maybe if it’s something else. Maybe it truly is to do with me not wanting to go back to how things were before.

I want to be clear that I have made good friends in the Beasts fandom, namely other Eddie fans - in fact, I met up with two when I went to see him in Cabaret last week and we had a fantastic time. On Instagram, I am surrounded by lovely mutuals and even here, I know wonderful fellow fans who I adore. Twitter, though, is far nastier and I’m not even actively in the Beasts fandom on twitter, like not even in the slightest and yet it’s still affecting me. There’s mutuals I have on twitter, including people I’ve met in real life, who were involved in said drama mentioned above, and it’s left me torn. On the one hand, I do understand where they are coming from, but on the other I’m afraid to engage in polite debate or discussion with them when I don’t agree with them (like above incident) because I’ve seen how they react to people even just saying “I don’t think this was this person’s intention”, and I don’t want to lose anymore mutuals/fellow fans than I already have.

Honestly, I am so conflicted about whether or not to support Beasts sometimes, whether I want to engage in liking it and the fandom again, to the point that a part of me doesn’t even WANT new content. Things have been so peaceful and quiet with no content, and now before the trailer even releases there’s already nastiness going around and it’s not good to see. And I feel awful for saying that, but it’s honestly how I feel sometimes - of course I want to have more films and to support most of the cast members, but the toxicity and ridiculous fandom-nonsense that comes with it make it almost not worth it. Even though a part of me still loves Beasts, I am a much healthier person since putting distance between it and myself.

As I’ve mentioned, this isn’t just to do with the fandom, there is also a LOT of problems with Beasts, and at the top of that list is the fact that JKR is literally a shitty transphobe who, to be honest, isn’t actually a good writer. This is a whole other post, but honestly upon growing older and reading other books - especially fantasy books - while the ideas behind Potter/Beasts resonate with so many of us, her actual execution/writing of them are dreadful. Her writing is filled with ableism, antisemitism, racism and many other problems - but the Beasts fandom that remains doesn’t discuss it, and trying to discuss it often rewards you with an instant block. For some reason, critical analysis of things we enjoy is frowned upon - it’s like you have to blindly love it completely in order to be a fan; similarly, there’s this assumption that liking Beasts/Potter means you agree with JKR and her views, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Again, topic for a different post, but I’m in a position where I want to love and enjoy the Beasts films still while also not wanting to support JKR; I’m even at the point where I’m extremely close to trying to get cover-ups of some of my Beasts and Potter tattoos, which says a LOT given that I have an IT (2017) tattoo of the word “LO\S/ER” that I regret less than the FB/HP ones.

Yet again, it’s late, I have to get up for work in the morning, and I feel like I’m rambling. I would love to have meaningful discussion and debate about all of this, but my fear is that what I’m saying is just going to lead to more fighting/drama/negativity, which I don’t want. If something I’ve said is unclear or needs clarification, then please feel free to drop me a message and let me know/so we can discuss it.

[shanastoryteller]

Saw your post mentioning reading your favorite poems and I was wondering what they were? I've never really liked poems but I really liked that one by Emily Dickson you put in the front of that teen wolf fic so you probably have really good taste in poems, and I've been trying to find some to like.

Good Bones by Maggie Smith

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.Life is short, and I’ve shortened minein a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,a thousand deliciously ill-advised waysI’ll keep from my children. The world is at leastfifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservativeestimate, though I keep this from my children.For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,sunk in a lake. Life is short and the worldis at least half terrible, and for every kindstranger, there is one who would break you,though I keep this from my children. I am tryingto sell them the world. Any decent realtor,walking you through a real shithole, chirps onabout good bones: This place could be beautiful,right? You could make this place beautiful.

~

Because I could not stop for Death (479)

Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no hasteAnd I had put awayMy labor and my leisure too,For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children stroveAt Recess – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed us – The Dews drew quivering and chill – For only Gossamer, my Gown – My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemedA Swelling of the Ground – The Roof was scarcely visible – The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – ‘tis Centuries – and yetFeels shorter than the DayI first surmised the Horses’ HeadsWere toward Eternity –

~

this one is an old nursery rhyme:

One bright day in the middle of the night, Two dead boys got up to fight. They turned their backs and faced each other, Drew their swords and shot the other. One was blind and the other couldn’t see, So they chose a fool for their referee. A mute eyewitness screamed with fright.A cripple danced to see the sight. A deaf policeman heard the noise.He came and shot the two dead boys.A paralyzed donkey passing by,Kicked the copper in the eye, And knocked him through a rubber wall, Into a ditch and drowned them all.If you don’t believe this lie is true,Ask the blind man. He saw it too.

~

She swearsshe will nevergive birthto a daughter.Won’t evenplant a garden.— Adira Bennett

~

Do not go gentle into that good night

Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,Because their words had forked no lightning theyDo not go gentle into that good night.Good men, the last wave by, crying how brightTheir frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,Do not go gentle into that good night.Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sightBlind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,Rage, rage against the dying of the light.And you, my father, there on the sad height,Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.Do not go gentle into that good night.Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~

My mouth is a fire escape.The words coming outdon’t care that they are naked.There is something burning in here.

— Andrea Gibson

~

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

By Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weepI am not there; I do not sleep.I am a thousand winds that blow,I am the diamond glints on snow,I am the sun on ripened grain,I am the gentle autumn rain.When you awaken in the morning’s hushI am the swift uplifting rushOf quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.

~

Never regret thy fall,O Icarus of the fearless flightFor the greatest tragedy of them allIs never to feel the burning light

— Oscar Wilde

~

Annabel Lee BY EDGAR ALLAN POEIt was many and many a year ago,   In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know   By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought   Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child,   In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love—   I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven   Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago,   In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling   My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came   And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre   In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,   Went envying her and me— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,   In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night,   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love   Of those who were older than we—   Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above   Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,   In her sepulchre there by the sea—   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

~

self-parodies & psalms for shit-scared twenty-somethings by gyzm

is perhaps my favorite poem and just gut punches me whenever i read it but they are a tumblr person who’s poem deserves more attention so please reblog/comment on their poem directly :)

1.

most of what i’ve learned in the first half of my twenties is to embrace statistics i’m not smart enough to verify; theones about black holes and how much of the universe is justempty space: between atoms and from one planet to another.it makes it easier, to stare at my overcrowded sink and thinkthat to get from the floor of this filthy kitchen to the neareststar would take more lifetimes than i could borrow or steal.maybe there is a single withered raspberry molding beneath every single plate i own but in the scheme of things that’s insignificant, a non-event in the life of a non-event, and so canwait until tomorrow, when this hangover is gone.

2.

please, god, don’t let me die before i turn thirty. i’ve heardthat that’s when it all comes together, and i know those’re allfish stories, probably, the lies of those who need to pretend justlike me, but hell, i choose to believe. because the thing is, god, if idie tomorrow, a few years from now, i can pretty much guarantee it’ll be in torn underpants, on a bad hair day, in a bra that doesn’t fitthe way i’d like it to; please, god, don’t let me die before i work outhow to drag myself out of bed in time to dry my hair every morning. i’vebeen promising myself for years i’d learn to get off the couch on monday nights and do laundry, god, okay, i don’t mind living in dirty jeans but i don’t want to die in them, i’m begging, i thank you, i’m sorry, amen.

3.

there should be a page at the back of every baby book thatsays “baby’s first moment of cold realization that they are an gigantic shitheaded asshole.” it’s important, as milestones go. iknow it’s not as glamorous as a first word or a graduation but i’dargue that developmentally, it means at least as much — god knows i put more thought into the bleak portrait of myself at two a.m., staring haggard out from the filmy surface of my mirror, than i did in my ham-fisted infant attempts to say my father’s name. it would benice, is all, to have a warning, to flip through pages of childhood accomplishments and see that placeholder, at the end; to know that the future was coming, inevitably, to make dipshits of us all.

4.

don’t put liquid soap in the dishwasher. don’t put your vibrator in the dishwasher. don’t forget that your mother is coming over until fifteen minutes before she shows up and put every scrap ofevidence that you are a disaster zone living underneath a veneerof overdone eye makeup and slapdash dreams of better tomorrowsin the dishwasher. don’t put your grandmother’s china, that vase you bought at the flea market, a bowl half-full of aged guacamole,in the dishwasher. on the mornings that will keep coming — when the shower does not seem like enough, when you can feel your long history of mistakes pockmarking your face and oozing out from beneath your armpits — don’t put yourself in the dishwasher.

5.

the human body replaces skin cells so quickly that two weeks from now, every part of me will be brand new, and i will still feel as though i have spent my first quarter-century on this planet touching both too much and not enough. that feels profound atthis moment but the human body replaces humiliations fastereven than skin; two weeks from now i will remember saying this,stare at the ceiling above my bed and think: no one has ever been as big of an asshole as you are. there are billions of stars in our galaxy and billions of galaxies in our universe and my ceiling is the only clean part of my apartment. i know it’s a fish story, but c’mon, god, okay — i’m just asking to believe i’ll make it to thirty better dressed; less selfish.

[eponymous-rose]

This isn’t a post I really wanted to make, and I feel kind of shitty making it because parts of it aren’t my story to tell, but not talking about it isn’t working, so hey. Weirdly comforting internet void, please don’t reblog this. 

There’s discussion of mental illness below, but not (directly) firsthand. This is mainly discussion of the impact mental illness is having on my family. Please avoid this post if this is a topic that is likely to cause you pain or discomfort. I think I just need to have it out there.

About a year ago, my brother was diagnosed with Bipolar I. His seeking out a diagnosis was the direct result of the way his mental health was horrifically mismanaged when he lived in the US in his late teens: he was misdiagnosed as schizophrenic and, a few months later, a pharmacy error cut him off anti-psychotics cold turkey. It was absolutely horrible, and he wound up leaving school and moving back in with my parents for a time just to recover. That diagnosis was still on file for him almost a decade later, but recently his job finally had decent enough benefits that he could afford to go in for a barrage of psychiatric testing to rule things out. Bipolar I wound up being the diagnosis that fit.

And I think, for him, there was a sense of relief that came from that initial diagnosis, because a lot of things started to fit. Our immediate family is very close and very loving, but also almost comically controlled and disciplined and logical and isolated. As a kid, he would frequently spiral over something small (I clearly remember being baffled by the fact that my teenage brother would still have full-on tantrums), and my parents and I would just be staring wide-eyed in silence because strong emotion??? what do????? He was comforted and loved, and outright tells us all the time that he loves us and feels really lucky to have had such a supportive family, but I can’t help feeling like we were just... overwhelmed by inertia and kept thinking “this is probably healthier and more normal than the way we repress our emotions”.

I suspected depression was always there, and I’d reached out to him a little about that based on my own experiences, but mania hadn’t even occurred to me, even when he was sending us e-mails at 5 AM about the new opera he stayed up all night writing. It’s incredible what starts to feel like normal when you’re in denial like that.

Regardless, that’s where we were last year: he called us up when I was visiting my parents and we chatted for about an hour about what we all knew about this illness and how he’d be going forward. We all assured him that we loved him a lot and were here for him in whatever way he needed us.

And then, in typical us fashion, we repressed it. My dad yelled at a server out of nowhere for bringing the wrong drink that afternoon; this is the most empathetic man I know, who’s raised his voice maybe three times in my life that I can remember (he called the server over afterwards to apologize and tipped hugely for having to put up with him). My mom’s anxiety spiked. I stopped sleeping well. It took us a few months to realize we were all struggling because we were so worried.

My brother tried a few different meds, none of which had a really strong impact. We all got together for the holidays, and when he arrived, he was furious in a way that felt familiar, like back in high school when he’d be so angry it was like he wasn’t fully in control of his body, wasn’t hearing the things he was saying. It was weirdly a bit of a relief, because I realized then how much he must have been putting on an act before: after high school, he’d always been extremely quiet and positive every single time I talked to him (always for short visits with big chunks in between). He was finally comfortable not being perfect around us. 

The precipitating factor for this particular blow-up was one of his coworkers e-mailing him and asking for one more article even though he was on holidays: dick move, sure, but in no way deserving of flinging his luggage around and teary-voiced ranting at the restaurant we took him to for dinner. We made sure he knew he was being heard and understood, and we sympathized with him, and we set up an hour that evening so he could just sit quietly in his room and work out how he was going to reply to the e-mail. And then things were fine again. He told us stories about how great that same coworker was the next day.

My parents stayed at an airbnb, mainly because my place is a little small for four, and he and I stayed here and just had a wonderful time. I realized how much I’d built things up in my head in a worrying way: this was still my brother, who I love very much, who’s sensitive and feels things deeply and sometimes gets upset, but I knew how to talk to him and I hope I could help him feel better; he certainly helped me feel better. We watched old cartoons and played NBA on the Switch and got milkshakes and ordered in pad thai and had a fantastic time just chilling and talking about whatever crossed our minds. I never once felt nervous or weird around him in the three weeks we were here, and I very clearly remember thinking, “Hey, future self, remember how natural this felt next time you’re catastrophizing: this is one of the few people in the world you’d happily have as a roommate.” We get along so, so well, and some of the new initial tension between him and my parents (that awkward combination of “well-meaning” and “absolutely out of their depths” made for a couple of baffled moments before they hit their stride) just never bled through to our friendship.

It came out during that trip that he’d accrued some pretty hefty credit card debt (overspending being an extremely common thing when you’re in a manic phase... and also in your twenties living alone in a big city when a big chunk of your job involves socializing every night); my parents very calmly and supportively told him they’d help him pay it off on the condition that he cut up those cards and take a serious look at the gaps in his budget. He was more embarrassed than anything, but my mom’s no-nonsense, logical attitude broke through and soon they were happily sitting down and setting up a budget.

He went back home, and things started getting worse. His landlord was an asshole who wouldn’t let him and his roommate control the heating and insisted on controlling it from off-site, so he’d come home to a sweltering apartment every night and couldn’t sleep. He took a sleeping pill to help him get some rest, and that triggered a major depressive episode. Through a series of accidental events (mainly getting stuck on hold with a crisis line for 45 minutes and calling 911 out of desperation), he wound up getting picked up by the cops one night and brought to a mental hospital, which he said wasn’t his intention, but he was glad it happened in the long run (the hospital, not the cops, obvs).

He was only there for one night, after which point they set him up with a social worker and amazing outpatient care, including psychiatrist visits every week and a new set of mood stabilizing meds, and I cannot stress enough that this would have been a much shorter story if he’d lived in the US. With my parents’ help, he wrote a letter to his landlord threatening to go to the city if he didn’t fix the heating situation, and his landlord caved (thank goodness, because there’s no way he’d be able to pay rent anywhere else in that city). Things stabilized, a little.

Now, though, it looks like he may lose his job. He disclosed his illness right after the diagnosis, and after some initial missteps, they started putting in effort to work with him on it---in my brother’s e-mails to us, the HR person went from an obnoxious jerk to a determined ally, if only to avoid liability issues. But on his new meds, while he feels great in the mornings, he’s exhausted by the afternoon, and he often has minor depressive episodes in the evenings, so clearly the dose isn’t right yet. He’s up to missing a couple days of work a week, and they’re clearly trying to lean on him to switch to contract work so they can let him go without running afoul of legal protections. It doesn’t help that what started as a wide-open, exciting startup (he still says the first eight months were his dream job) has turned into an ad revenue-grabbing mechanism where all his colleagues are white homophobic tech bros who ignore him at best and resent his “special treatment” at worst.

A lot of his friends happened to move away around the time of his diagnosis as well, and now a lot of his remaining friends are distancing themselves. A common factor in his last few jobs toward the end was people telling him, “You just looked miserable all the time,” and it sounds like it’s starting to impact his personal relationships. His time online is spent in the deepest of “cancel culture” discussion, where being mostly good but fucking up once is almost more reprehensible than being wholly awful (he quit Facebook for a while, but wound up reopening his account to let people know about his hospitalization... and now he’s just back there again). He and his boyfriend broke up. His friend who initially suggested he apply for this job now ignores him at work.

It’s that awful combo of “people are being assholes about my illness” and “my illness makes it hard to believe that someone who initially reacts poorly will ever come around, so I’d better shove them away first”.

My parents are understandably so worried for him. They’re going out to visit him for three weeks starting tomorrow, staying at an airbnb nearby and occupying themselves with their own retirement pursuits so he can come visit if he likes, or ignore them if he needs space. They’ve told him that, if he’d like, he’s welcome to come stay with them for a few months (they live on the other side of the country); they’ll cover his half of the rent while he’s gone, and he��ll have a bit of an opportunity to just heal, considering he went straight back to work the day after his hospitalization. They’ll also help him strategize about whether he wants to switch to part-time on his current job and see about picking something else up. I suggested they bring up the possibility of going back for a master’s---I know it’s an absolute minefield for mental health, but in his particular case, a flexible schedule plus project-based creative work with specific deadlines has always been a pretty good fit, and he excels academically.

They’re also preparing for the possibility of moving him out to stay with them on a more permanent basis, but they obviously don’t want to disrupt his care (his current appointments are at the best mental health facilities in the country). They can’t afford to live in his city on their pension, but they’re also talking about giving up their retirement condo and buying out his roommate’s half of the rent, and just being there to help him out when he needs it. I don’t think he’d go for that unless things really deteriorated quickly, but a few months away from the city definitely sounds like what he needs.

And I’m just... so angry. I’m pissed off that so much of the stress weighing on him (and so many others!) right now comes from him being nearly 30, in debt, without a hint of a way to start saving for retirement, with these little one- or two-year gig jobs with two-hour commutes full of toxic people stretching out into eternity. I’m pissed off that this awful disease has made it so my parents probably aren’t in a place where they’re going to be able to do their big retirement trip, and they may be giving up their idyllic retired life for good. I’m angry with myself for that little burrowing resentment that, because my parents are older, I could wind up a financial, medical, and emotional caretaker for them and/or my brother at a moment’s notice, and I don’t feel ready to take all of that on. I’ll never feel ready.

(As a bonus, bipolar I has a genetic component, and now I’m thinking back to that one time I stayed up all night determined to save the world by learning all of biology in eight hours, or the time when as a grown-ass adult I started crying like a ten-year-old because I felt left out from an activity friends were doing, and I’m thinking, is this it? And then it’s not those extremes, it’s every normal human emotion that was previously muted by my own situational depression years ago. Is this it?)

I feel so, so entitled to the life we should have had as a family, and so frustrated at all these external factors that’ve brought it crashing down. More than anything, I’m scared for my little brother. I know bipolar isn’t something that magically disappears, and that things are likely to get worse, but I want those external stressors to go away and just leave him alone for half a minute so he can heal and find the right combination of meds and maybe, maybe get to think about thriving rather than just surviving. I’m so grateful to my parents for finding the right things to do and say to help him recover. And I know that, if something goes horribly wrong, I can try to fill those shoes.

I’m still losing sleep, but only every now and then. People at work occasionally comment that I don’t look so good, but that’s much rarer than a couple months ago, and the people I’ve confided in are very kind and check in on me even when things seem to be going well.

After the move this fall, I’m going to find someone to talk to professionally about this. In the meantime, just typing this all out makes me feel a bit better. I am finding better ways to cope; I had to mute him on social media because my overwhelming tendency to overthink his posts was very dangerous (turns out that famous self-deprecating millennial sense of humor is terrifying when you’re trying to work out if someone’s in danger). I have a generally positive attitude about this, and I can now usually catch myself when I’m starting to spiral. I send my brother goofy links, and he sends me funny stuff in return. I’m going for runs and eating better and playing video games and hanging out with friends... 

... and I’m genuinely very happy a majority of the time (not just content, but happy), which wasn’t true even a couple months ago.

I’m scared and angry and coming to grips with it being okay to be both of those things, as long as I’m also supportive and loving. This is my little brother. This is my family. They’re the best. 

And all we can do is take it one day at a time.

[vanishcd]

[[ So i’m gonna post this whole thing but I just. NEED to analyze the entire discussion between Morrell and Stiles in Battlefield. Because its such important character stuff besides being INCREDIBLY well-written.

Included are my thoughts on my Stiles and my perspectives on how he thinks, especially when it comes to how ADHD/anxiety makes you perceive things. Likes are appreciated but PLEASE ask to reblog since this feels very personal for me and my muse

Stiles: You know when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. But then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore. It's - it's actually kind of peaceful. 

So this whole thing starts off with his anxiety. His way of describing things in details with both feelings and facts that makes it incredibly visceral and real. You can feel yourself underwater, you can imagine that moment he’s talking about. The pain and then the relief. (Fear and pain. Big threads in some of his emotional beats. He also FOCUSES in on those details when he’s afraid, classic anxiety symptom.)

Morrell: Are you saying you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments Stiles: I don't feel sorry for him.  Morrell: Can you feel sorry for the nine - year - old Matt who drowned?  Stiles: Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one. 

He has no sympathy for Matt. Not after what he’s done to everyone. Not for what Stiles perceives as a dumb, if awful, fluke and Matt’s personal offense/inability to get over it.

The punishment should fit the crime and his noting of "one by one" points out that Matt has been calculating this. For something ambiguous and one time, if traumatic. It's a conflict with Stiles' sense of what justice is. Matt also attacked him, his friends, Scott, his dad, and Melissa. That alone means Stiles can’t excuse, reason, forgive, or sympathize. But then--

Stiles: And by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. And not just of her though. I mean, he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing. You know, like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train. 

here’s the thing. Despite having general/social anxiety and ADHD, Stiles isn't forgiving of mistakes/cruelty because of mental illness. Yes, even though he fully knows his own issues have caused shit. Even knowing it's a POWERFUL motivator. But he has a LOW opinion of someone who uses trauma/illness to lash out purely for revenge. Especially over something that as he said was the result of kids being stupid

Even without this, he would hate Matt simply for being a creepy af stalker, not only CREATING this delusion of him w Allison but ACTING ON IT. Anyone who pulls that shit is LOW. And it was toward one of his closest friends.

He also happens to be deflecting, talking about others instead of himself (which is of course the whole point of a counseling session). He’s not just rambling cause he’s angry/disgusted and has a tendency to. He’s JUSTIFYING himself through it, which means he’s on the defensive and doesn’t want to open up to Morrell.

Morrell: One positive thing came out of this, though. Right? Stiles: Yeah. Yeah, but I still feel like there's something wrong between [him and his dad]. I don't know. It's just like tension when we talk.

The first moment he opens up, maybe because the guilt of STILL not saying anything about the supernatural to his dad is TOO MUCH. It's one of the heaviest burdens he's carried. So even though Stilinski got his position as sheriff back, Stiles still feels like he's to blame.

Interesting thing to note is that the topic of his dad is the one thing he consistently opens up to people to. Showing vulnerability doesn't matter when it's his dads ANYTHING at stake. And he's ok showing that to Morrell both cause it's not focused on moving forward and his own feelings, but because it's actually something that he feels he needs help with. Because their relationship means too much.

The tension could also be alluding to the hallucination he had at Lydias party (despite the fact that he obviously doesn't TELL her about it) I can write a whole essay on that scene but the scene, real or not, clearly weighs on Stiles. And with anxiety, it's easy to fall into the mindset that your fears are real, they just aren't being SPOKEN. Even when you KNOW without a DOUBT that the person doesn't feel that way, it sticks in your mind and messes with your perception. Stiles is aware his perception could be skewed from stress.

Stiles: [Scott’s] got his own problems to deal with though: I don't think he's talked to Allison either. But that might be more her choice, you know. Her mom dying hit her pretty hard. But I guess it brought her and her dad closer. Jackson? Jackson hasn't really been himself lately. Actually the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia is the one who seems the most normal. 

As Morrell is about to silently observe by asking about him, Stiles is once again deflecting the topic to everyone elses trauma and avoiding talking about how he feels. Just what he’s observed and his judgement about it. And his comments can be perceived as pretty neutral despite how much he cares for 3 of the 4 people who are going through hell with him.

Morrell: And what about you, Stiles? Feeling some anxiety about that championship game tomorrow night? Stiles: Why would you ask me that? Ah. Uh, no. I - I never actually play. But hey, since one of my teammates is dead and another one's missing, who knows, right? 

AGAIN he deflects. He knows she's digging for “im feeling anxious” and admittance that HE isn't ok. And not only denies it on reflex but then takes the leading part and uses that for the topic. Again he talks about others and uses dry sarcasm to make himself more comfortable.

Morrell: You mean, Isaac. One of the three runaways. You haven't heard from any of them, have you? Stiles: How come you're not taking any notes on this? Morrell: I do my notes after the session. Stiles: Your memory's that good? 

Deflect; and this time because she doesnt give up, he turns the topic to HER. Most people will let you ramble about others but when you start making observations about THEM, particularly what they’re doing at the moment or their professionalism, they get defensive. Even if its a word or two, it’s enough to give him an “advantage”. 

And it’s, as becomes the ultimate point, him fishing for time.

Morrell: How about we get back to you? Stiles? Stiles: --I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible's about to happen.

And there's the moment he finally breaks. He knows she's not gonna let him go, she's directly observing his anxiety. And there's a slight pause before she says his name. For the first time, shes directly giving him permission to speak, instead of asking prying questions. He could deny it. And he does, but in the obvious way that's just a lead in to his feelings.

He's at a point in the conversation and the situation that he doesn't have any other option. And even though his tone is harsh, it's honest. Because he's scared and suddenly realizes they covered everyone, and no one is left to help.

Morrell: It's called hyper - vigilance, the persistent feeling of being under threat. Stiles: But it's not just a feeling, though. It's - it's like it's a panic attack. You know, like I can't even breathe. Morrell: Like you're drowning? Stiles: Yeah. Morrell: So if you're drowning, and you're trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment, what if you choose to not open your mouth? To not let the water in? Stiles: You do anyway. It's a reflex. Morrell: But if you hold off until that reflex kicks in, you have more time, right? Stiles: Not much time. Morrell: But more time to fight your way to the surface? Stiles: I guess.

He has a way with words. He's been rambling this whole time. But his description of a panic attack is the last vivid bit for several lines. Trying to get across his desperation.

Then he goes to simple answers. "Yeah" and "I guess" because when he feels so lost, he gets quiet.

Stiles is very pragmatic AND emotional. He thinks with both but rationalizes. "It's a reflex" and "not much time" is his logical side kicking in, but in that way it's counterproductive because anxiety. You search for an answer, a relief from your fear, and when it's GIVEN, you don't quite know what to do with it. So you rationalize your own helplessness because you've fallen into that pattern of logical thinking combined with fear. That's what makes an anxious mind spin out.

Morrell: More time to be rescued? Stiles: More time to be in agonizing pain. I mean, did you forget about the part where you feel like your head's exploding? Morrell: If it's about survival, isn't a little agony worth it?  Stiles: But what if it just gets worse? What if it's agony now and then - and it's just hell later on?

Stiles fears pain. And I think it's not the pain specifically, it's the idea of it being the last thing, an extended thing. Emotional or physical (who wouldn’t?) And then he rationalizes with facts again to prove his point. This is the crux of MANY anxieties. That you aren't strong enough to get through, that it won't end, that there's no hope.

Morrell is having none of it. She won't let him give up on HOPE.

Morrell: Then think about something Winston Churchill once said - "If you're going through hell, keep going."

Know why that got through to him? Because it's simple and factual and makes him realize--it's the only thing you CAN do. It's not exactly hope for him but determination. Will to keep going for a little longer

And the truth is, that's all you CAN do in some horrible situations. You feel hopeless, useless. But to quote another favorite tv show "believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing."

Hope, hope for hope, will get you through. It can be more painful than anything in the world, but it's also the ONE THING that lets you get thought when EVERYTHING ELSE has failed.

And as Morrell says, if you can survive, isn't it worth it?

[gh0stpkmn]

ok uh. yooran gaming channel au - part 2

@misfireezreal reblogged the ‘yoosung has a gaming channel au’ post and wrote a really cute lil addition that inspired me to add some more ideas to this mess of an au..... and i got really carried away

their addition / reblog post is here !!  tho i’ll also put a screenshot of it under the cut... along with more headcanons/ideas/whatever for the au/scenario

 god this is so cute omfg. ok so..

●  yoosung liking comments that say nice things abt saeran?? so good. honestly the sweet comments probably rlly do a lot of good things for saeran’s self esteem!! they cheer him up when he’s feelin sad i would think? definitely helps a lot on his rougher days.

●  misfireezeal mentioned donations so i started thinking about what donation money would go towards... when theyre not goin towards yoosung’s tuition (if he even stays in university at this point?? idk??)  or his cost of living, or equipment for the channel, they go to charities.

yoosung wants to help animals so they donate to animal rescue organizations and stuff like that. he wants to contribute help to other causes too so... he wants saeran to have some say where the money goes (and i mean saeran is the meme bringin in a lot of it so. ye.)

it’s important to saeran that they donate to organizations that provide help for mentally ill people--especially mentally ill youth. also organizations that help children in foster care or like... help kids that have been abused idk.. idk! idk...  things that can help young people that are going through some of the same things saeran went through

yoosung doesn’t announce the donations or anything because like... he doesn’t really feel the need to???? neither of them see a point in posting/talking about it. it just feels good to do nice things.

other stuff:

●  it comes up in passing that like. saeran as a knack for hacking and everyone’s like “how could u do this?? cant believe ur a dirty hacker”

saeran’s like “ lol dont worry. i only cheat at games when i play against my brother because he’s a shit and never plays fair ”

chat is like “whoa we didn’t know you had a brother!!!”

and they talk about it a little and yoosung is like “yeah his brother is ____”  (whatever his username is? i forget. hacker god i think?)  “he usually plays on the shooting star server “

viewers are Shocked that yoosung knows #1 on shooting star. they demand to have him as a guest star

it’s... debatable whether saeyoung agrees to it or not?? he has to lay low and stuff.. either way, they tell saeyoung about it and he’s so amused omfg. he watches yoosung and saeran’s streams sometimes (and is so proud of his bro. he cries probably) but not super often? when he does watch, he also uses a random throwaway name

but after the chat asks for him, he logs in once or twice w/ his LOLOL screen name and people are all over omfg. chat goes wild and saeyoung is Living for the attention omg

saeran is like “you’re so dumb god i hate you”

and saeyoung’s like. “ok but are you actually planning on coming home some time soon??? tomorrow maybe? becaaauuuuuse..... i miss you”

it’s cheesy and lame and Embarrassing. saeran’s just.. “GO AWAY asshole im doing a thing....................................... also, yes. please order pizza for dinner”

yoosung thinks its funny n cute and so do the viewers.

●  and ok even if... saeyoung is never a guest star, they probably bring like. mc or zen on once or twice and it’s great. a lot of viewers recognize zen (i imagine he’s a bit more famous at this point) and they are... so excited and surprised that he’s friends w/ yoosung and saeran.

i can’t really see jaehee or jumin on the show but like..........

..... the idea of them tricking jumin into trying to play a video game on the stream is so fucking funny to me????

like Somehow they manage to convince him to come over?? idk maybe by asking him to  ”help them work on a big project that’s essential to yoosung’s career” or smth “that requires nothing less than jumin han’s skill and expertise”  and because he’s a good friend he agrees. then they just. put a controller in his hand and he’s like “what am i supposed to do with this”

and ok jumin has probably owned a gaming console at some point but i honestly, truly can’t bring myself to believe that he uses it for anything other than like.....netflix

so he has no fucking experience and it’s. so good. yoosung and saeran are trying really hard not to laugh (and yoosung is failing)

idk what they make him play specifically but for some reason wii sports is flashing through my mind holy shit..... but actually its probably LOLOL or fallout 4 or something. idk. either way, he’s bad at it and they struggle to teach him how to even hold the controller properly

●  saeran likely moves in some time after they’ve started the channel where both of them play games together. which happened pretty far into the relationship anyways i think?

and even then it happens quite a while after they start the channel. maybe when it’s been going for a year or something? maybe two??

(i have no idea???? idk how long these kinds of channels stay big??? i only watch like... fairly well known youtubers like game grumps that have been around for a long time. and mcleroy stuff on polygon idk.)

anyways

how they decide to move in is basically like... ok.

i imagine they probably get questions about their relationship a lot when they come out as a couple or when new viewers first find out about them. the flow of questions dies down after the initial reveal that they’re together but they still pop up every now and then

sometimes the questions get slightly intrusive like asking about their plans for the future which they kinda just ignore those until it becomes a really frequently asked question so they Have to answer it.. so they just say they don’t feel comfortable talking about it for the time being (because tbh they dont know lol)

and so...

probably a specific question that people ask A LOT (and have since saeran’s early appearances)  is if saeran lives with yoosung, or if he’s planning to.

because he’s at yoosung’s place so often. he has been since the channel’s early days, and they post videos and stream together fairly regularly, i guess?

there’s obviously more content of just yoosung doing his thing because it is his channel after all but content featuring saeran is definitely a frequent thing (even when it’s not their duo let’s play channel or whatever... saeran can still be seen in the background in a fair amount of yoosung’s usual LOLOL streams, too. )

so uh

at some point they’re just hanging out.. (off stream, not on video or anything. just them together.. like a date night or just to spend some time together. i dunno)

maybe cuddlin’ in bed or on the couch watching a movie, having a nice time. there’s comfortable silence

and yoosung never really gave it a lot of thought before, but lately... he and saeran are just really close and their relationship is so GOOD and he loves him a lot. he’s thinking over all this stuff and how often people ask if they live together and...

i mean, he thought about it on his own before he really took the viewers’ questions seriously.... them bringing it up isn’t what sparked it necessarily. 

he considered the possibility before, but he was always scared that bringing up moving in together would be too forward or pushy, and that saeran wasn’t ready for it, and that they would be rushing into things--going too fast. yeah. 

he got that ball rollin’ and was trying to take it slow but recently, everyone bringing the idea up jsut. fuckin. kicks that ball. so hard. it’s going full fuckin throttle. max speed. it’s out of control and he can’t stop it

and so in this... really comfortable quiet moment he just kinda blurts out

“why haven’t we moved in together yet?”

saeran is surprised obviously. he wasn’t expecting that at all

he has briefly entertained the idea of living with yoosung before, because he’s over so often anyways, and he wants to spend even more time together.... but he’s also scared for various reasons? 

such as his mental health issues, obviously. he’s also anxious that yoosung will get sick of him, or that he won’t be able to handle being around yoosung 24/7 and vice versa. he doesn’t want to get so easily annoyed and snappy like he does at home with saeyoung? he also doesn’t want to rush into things. idk. there’s a lot more reasons but those are some of them.

so when yoosung says this, he has no idea how to react??? so he just kinda mumbles “oh... uh.......”

yoosung panics like

 “god, im sorry, that was so stupid. um. it’s just... been on my mind a lot lately, i guess..? god! ah... forget about that! it was dumb...”  

he covers his eyes and kinda... hunches over. all embarrased and nervous and a little guilty because he doesn’t want to make saeran uncomfortable. he can’t even look at him. poor boy omg

saeran stays quiet for a long time, furrows his brows and chews the nail of his thumb and looks like he’s concentrating on something. after a while he pipes up, so quietly that yoosung can barely hear him

“i don’t think it’s dumb”

yoosung is. shocked. but also immediately hopeful! he perks up!!! looks at his bf incredulously like “you don’t?” 

saeran kinda... talks slowly bc he’s thinking hard about his words and says that he didn’t expect yoosung to bring it up really but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it before

so they have an Important, Serious conversation about it and they both make sure that the other is %100 on board with it and ready to just. jump in and do it.

celebratory smooches ensue because they’re cute and happy and excited.

... i forget if yoosung’s place is a dorm or not. if it is, he gets his own apartment.

if it’s not, he stays in his apartment and saeran moves in there.

it’s small and kinda cramped and very far from a “forever home” but they make it work for now!! they’re happy that way... (maybe in the future they get a bigger place, which is nice because it makes it easier for saeran to have some privacy when he needs time alone.)

●  yoosung definitely takes short little videos or vlogs all the time and posts them on youtube and other social media

he takes one the day after they have the conversation mentioned above. and it’s just. “you guys.... i asked my boyfriend to move in and he said yes!! god, i was so scared! tell them how scared i was, saeran!” he points the camera at saeran who is reading a book and he just. 

idk he either just flips off the camera bc he’s busy and doesn’t want to be disturbed...

or

he looks it right at the lens and says “he was scared shitless. he literally shit his pants. it was gross. i had to h---” 

cue video going blurry as yoosung turns the camera away real quick paired with. shocked, loud shrieking. “SAERAN!!! DON’T SAY----” and then the video jsut kinda. cuts off there. 

(he still posts it but with some caption along the lines of “that didn’t actually happen. saeran’s just being a dick”)

and of course, there’s definitely multiple videos of the day they move saeran’s stuff in. yoosung records a bunch and puts them on his snapchat story or w/e... other social media too, so they can look back on them later... 

just cute little clips, like one of saeran’s room with all his stuff in boxes..... one of saeyoung and saeran (and maybe mc) loading stuff up into the car.... one of them putting the boxes in yoosung’s apartment....  a dumb one of saeyoung goofin’ off at yoosung’s place and mc doting on him..

one of saeyoung giving his brother the biggest bear hug ever. just. completely squeezing the life out of him and dramatically pretending to be all emotional (even tho he really is genuinely emotional inside omg) and saeran being annoyed and trying to push him away “god, let me go! you’re suffocating me!”

one where... they’re bringing in the last box.

and finally like. one w/ yoosung turning around to show his whole apartment, boxes everywhere, some of them already half unpacked. “phew... finally finished! the hardest part, anyway”

it’s cute.

●  the little videos are probably a thing that happens every now and then, even after that... he probably snapchats a lot of things in general bbbut a lot of the time it’s just. dumb, random videos of saeran.

some of them are stuff like:

 a close-up of both of them, taken with yoosung’s phone where they’re like “streaming in fifteen! we’re gonna play ____ today.” .... real cute stuff.

or just. shitty phone videos yoosung takes of saeran where like… yoosung says something really sappy joke or pickup line? idk. something really cheesy and terrible and wants to film saeran’s reaction.  and saeran looks over and his expression is just. dead inside. the camera zooms in real close on his face and he whispers “………………. im so sick of this Shi–”  the video cuts off there

probably lots of them chillin and having fun with the whole rfa crew

and. maybe one where the two of them are hanging out with saeyoung and mc and other pals and.. idk. one of them says something funny and they’re all laughing but yoosung zooms in on saeran who just.........ok i imagine that sometimes his more subdued laughs come out as like?? this huffy, kinda wheezy little giggle. he covers his mouth w his hand. and the video captures that. when yoosung posts it, ppl Freak out about it because it’s so uncharacteristically adorable...

there’s videos of them going on trips or just new places in general... going for hikes and exploring maybe.. idk. lots of cute stuff.

saeran takes one of yoosung when they’re at the spca?? or some place like that. idk (i dont like pet stores but maybe a pet store).. and.. yoosung just has his hands and face pressed to a glass partition/window/whatever that has a puppy behind it. maybe multiple puppies. and yoosung turns around w/ the Most desperate, pleading expression anyone has ever seen. (saeran knows he has to say no but it’s so hard omfg)

and obviously there’s lots of little clips of video game stuff. teasers of the game content itself or their playthroughs. maybe a video of one of them sitting on the couch or a computer chair playing a game and getting angry lol.... (or saeran getting frustrated w/ a handheld game that’s supposed to be really calm like... animal crossing. idk sorry i just love the idea of saeran having a 3ds and playing chill games like that to help him relax when he’s anxious omg)

.... there’s also lil videos yoosung takes but he decides that they are private, for his eyes only... little moments like one where they’re getting ready to stream and saeran’s adjusting one of the microphones 

and yoosung quietly says hey to get his attention, and saeran looks over and smiles real big and genuine w/ lots of love and tells him to “Stop goofing around. C’mon, put your phone down and help me finish setting up.” and it’s. sweet and happy and cute... yeah.

.

BUT uh...

yeah!

that’s all for now !!

[angelwithoutleave-moving-blog]

Not a Doctor | Castiel & Sam

Pulling my thread with thexboyxking over here from the archived blog~ My next response will be reblogged directly from your blog to this new one!

To say Sam Winchester was miffed would have been an understatement.

Of course that wasn’t to say he didn’t like what he was doing for the Morningstar Law firm he was interning at but he didn’t like THIS part of it. He didn’t like that he was stuck on research duty. Scratch that. Sam LOVED research. It was a passion of his and why he got stuck with the job more often than not. What he didn’t like was that he was stuck researching THIS.

The fact was, try as he might, medical terms just weren’t his thing. When it came to medicine, dosages, side effects, or even just medical law terms Sam always blanked. He’d even tried to explain that to Ava and Jess but they’d both just shrugged and told him they all had to do their fair share of work…which was their way of saying they hated this case too and didn’t want to have to spend hours looking through medical crap.

Heaving a sigh Sam closed the book he was going through and rubbed at his eyes. The issue with the case was that the incident happened ten years ago and the research done hadn’t made it past a few medical journals here and there, none of which had been posted online. It meant a lot of books, a lot of notes, and Sam was still coming up empty.

Getting up he grabbed the copy of the journal he’d just finished skimming through and made his way back down to the medical section of the library, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. He’d find something soon and then he could go home and pass out, that’s the mantra he fed himself anyways as he walked the now familiar path.

                    “Excuse me, sorry. I just need to put this back.”

He offered what he hoped was a friendly enough smile to the man in the row of shelves with him but he doubted it looked anything more than an exhausted rehearsed attempt at politeness.

Spending long nights nestled between the shelves of the school library was par for the course for Castiel Novak. Even when he was an undergrad, he could be found among rows of books more often than in his own dorm. It wasn’t that he had so much more work than the average medical student – though the program for neurosurgery was particularly rigorous – but more Castiel’s own habitual research tendencies that kept him immersed in large reference volumes until one of the librarians shook him awake.

A few of the professors who found his lengthy essays either intriguing or bothersome mislabeled it “overachieving.” Really, it was just insatiable curiosity. He couldn’t seem to shake an obscene addiction to footnotes, no matter what the topic was. If he hadn’t taught himself to speed-read a very long time ago, his reading list would be unmanageable – it nearly was already, seeing as it was never-ending.

He knew he was already collecting information he couldn’t use. His paper was on the effects of malaria on the brain, and he’d somehow ended up skimming a chapter on the life-cycles of trans-organism parasites. His internal clock told him that it was already late, and it had an unfortunate tendency to underestimate.

The shadow caught his attention first, suddenly casting the fluorescent-lit page into darkness. He’s barely looked up before the tall man was pardoning his passing, and Castiel nodded with an accommodating step back. He watched as his fellow student replaced a book on a shelf and stared at it under thick eyelids. He looked like someone trying to read a foreign language through a haze of exhaustion.

Hesitantly, Castiel cleared his throat. “What are you looking for?” he asked. He didn’t work here, but he probably knew the medical section better than anyone who did.

Sam tore his eyes away from the books in front of him and looked at the man offering to help. From the looks of it he was a fellow student but not one bearing a name tag indicating he worked here in particular. What Sam did notice though was the fact that he was not only in the medical section but was reading a book on it too so maybe at the very least he could point Sam in the direction he should be going.

“Umm well, I don't know really.”

He heaved a sigh and dug the palms of his hands into his eyes rubbing away a combination of frustration and sleep.

“I’m looking for a medical journal written by Dr. Robert Calvin. It never made it past his journals but the research is on a radical sleeping pill he’d developed and tested on a small group of volunteers with insomnia. It’s just…it didn’t pan out so there’s not much written about it but I need that journal for a…”

A case.

Already he’d said too much more than he should have been.Their library had the journal, at least it had Calvin’s full collection and he really needed the notes from that particular study and some of the subject’s names in particular. The problem was there were ten journals and no one seemed to know which one it would be in.

“I guess unless you've read these you probably can’t but hey, thanks for the offer.”

It wasn’t often anyone around here offered to help anyone else. Most people, Sam included, were too weighed down with their own work and studies to do much more than utter a quick apology when bumping in to someone else.

Castiel had already ascertained that this wasn’t a medical student, and that was precisely why he offered to help. These texts looked like Greek even to undergraduates in his degree program, let alone people who had never read a diagnostic manual – and who clearly belonged in a bed rather than a library.

He stepped just a little closer to hear the man’s explanation, his brow furrowed with concentration. As soon as he mentioned the name, Castiel’s expression eased, and he straightened, waving off the student’s dismissal.

“Insomnia studies are indeed found in this section, but Dr. Robert Calvin was a psychologist. He was observing the effects of sleep deprivation on mental health, specifically anxiety disorders. His experiments were ahead of his time, though, and unfortunately, he lacked the proper equipment to find the results he was looking for.”

He paused, realizing that his nearly encyclopedic knowledge of anything pertaining to the brain might sound… pompous. Clearing his throat, he finished, “He never found a correlation between insomnia and neuropsychology, so those journals weren’t published independently. The collection of his journals is in the psychology section, though. Three rows that way.” He pointed to indicate.

Dropping his hand, he averted his eyes and stepped back. “At least, I hope that helps.”

Sam wasn’t sure if those studies would be of particular use or not but he was willing to look through them and see if there was any information on the medication their client insisted had made her ill. It there wasn't anything in the ones he was being directed to then they could very well lose their case on unfounded basis and Sam didn’t want that to happen,especially not because of any leads he left unturned.

                     “You seem to know a lot about this stuff.”

He grinned and put back the journal he had started pulling out.

                     “I know you probably have your own stuff                      to be getting to so thanks for the help. I’m                      Sam by the way, Sam Winchester.”

It wasn’t always exactly easy to make connections around here unless of course it was with the other student interns helping around the office. Usually in the library he would keep to himself but this guy had been nice enough to each out and say something to him first which made him a nice person in Sam’s mind.

                     “I should go find those journals.”

Castiel was trying to make it seem like he was more interested in the book he still had open in his hands, but it was difficult to keep his eyes off of the handsome stranger. He felt anxiety lurch in his stomach at the comment. “You seem to know a lot” wasn’t usually a compliment, in his experience. But when the man flashed him a smile, Castiel was surprised, and he tried to return it a moment after that window of socially appropriate response time had closed.

“I’m… Castiel,” he answered the introduction, trying to catch up. “Castiel Novak. I’m a medical student in the neurology–” He stopped himself before he kept Sam up talking about himself, like so many of his classmates had an unbearable tendency to do. “Anyway, I read here a lot.” Once he said that, it didn’t sound like a sentence. “Good luck,” he added with a nod, “finding what you’re looking for.”

He went back to staring at words on the page in front of him, though not reading them. Social interactions never really came naturally to him, but being complimented by someone attractive reminded him that he really wasn’t completely certain he belonged to this species.

It was about two hours later that Sam had finally found what he was looking for. It was at least enough to swing their case in the right direction and he’d only found that because of the other student. As he was packing up his books about to leave he’d considered swinging by to say another thanks and see if maybe Castiel wanted to hang out sometime. When he didn’t see him in the same section Sam gave up and decided to just leave instead. He still had some work to do at home before their meeting tomorrow morning with the client.

Later when he looked back at the situation he’d blame the lack of coffee and the over tired rundown feeling of needing a good night's sleep for not seeing the dog. Besides who kept a dog on campus anyways?

He’d barely hit the thing but Sam knew from its whining it was hurt and he knew from picking up a stray two weeks ago that there wasn’t a decent vet within half an hour of the campus which all bus sucked. Pulling off his over shirt he wrapped it around the dog lifting it into his arms and debating what the hell to do.

Maybe someone in medical…he didn’t have a lot of friends though. Castiel…the kid from inside had mentioned something about being medical though. Something about neurology but still…that was something at least.

Setting the dog in the passengers seat he turned and headed back to the parking lot throwing the car in park before dashing into the library.

             “Cas?? Castiel? Hey,has anyone seen a medical student              named Castiel?”

He was being too loud, hollering for Cas and earning looks everyone trying to get work done and god if it was reversed he knew he would be heated but he had to find Castiel again if he was in there.

If nothing else, his run-in with Sam reminded Castiel that the book he had been reading was barely even tangentially related to his research. When he tried to go back to it, he couldn’t remember what footnote in which manual had gotten him to the chemical effects of bactrim in the first place. He put the book back in the pathology section and returned to the small table, tucked in a corner between the anthropology and environmental sciences sections, that he may as well call his desk.

He had to reread his progress and, after trying in vain to find follow-up studies to support his hypothesis, came to the unfortunate conclusion that he needed to restart his paper with a different one. By the Time he finished the outline, his eyes were puffy and heavy. It was only more disappointing to know that this outline, which seemed rough and sloppy now, would probably look like complete nonsense in the morning.

He was just collecting his things when shouting from the main lobby made his brow furrow. People sometimes failed to contain their outbursts even within the sacred walls of the library, but not usually at this time of night. Immediately after irritation flared in his blood, concern crept up Castiel’s spin right behind it.

And… those syllables sounded familiar. But why would anyone be calling for him?

Abandoning his belongings at his tucked away table, Castiel strode to the stairs and reached the top of them in time to confirm that someone was indeed shouting his name. By the time he reached the first landing, he registered the very new voice.

“Sam?” he asked, quickly crossing the open room as soon as he reached the bottom stair. “What’s wrong?” He was almost surprised by the degree of calm control in his own voice. Adrenaline was flooding his veins, and Castiel was now wide awake.