#like sorry for having symptoms bitch. quit crying and do your job lmao

[ink-asunder]

Part of the ProblemTM with doctors is they see a patient who is unable to work, go to school, or even leave their house due to insane chronic health issues and they go "oh, you stay home? You stay home and do nothing while I sold my body to the grueling trials of med school and work 26 hour shifts?? Meanwhile you stay home and do nothing? You are my personal worst enemy, actually. Die immediately."

[sylvie-writes]

Uncalled For

request: hey! if you take requests, i have one for Ransom Drysdale x Reader. Something like angst stuffs because the reader is pregnant with his baby. Lots and lots of feels and angsty stuffs please thank you - anon

a/n: Thanks for the request hon! I love it! sorry for the wait. 

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, nervous first-time father Ransom, angst but it turns to fluff! 

summary: this story is quite deceiving hehe. I can’t say anything or it will ruin the element of my mini surprise. (lmao I can’t write plot twists without solving them right away.) 

Pardon any mistakes!

Ransom Drysdale, the man who was your boss turned boyfriend.

In the beginning, you were his glorified maid working under the title of personal assistant.

Although the man was a mess, he was good to you. Even when you weren’t dating.

For a few years you’ve worked for Ransom, but recently the two of you have started dating.

It was nice no longer having to drive around your ass to get to your elbow just trying to show up at his house on time for work.

Now you spend your mornings waking up under Ransom’s heavy arm that protectively laid over your waist.

Needless to say he was a changed man, and was now taking the whole “dating thing” seriously.

One morning you woke up, the urge to rush to the bathroom becoming stronger.

Unable to contain your nausea anymore, you hurriedly threw off Ransom’s arm waking the man, who saw you in a panic.

Your figure flashed passed him, causing the man to throw off the bed covers and storm into the bathroom.

Just as he was about to give you an earful for the theatrics, he saw your head thrown over the toilet bowl, awful sounds falling from your lips.

At the sight, he squatted down, holding your hair from your face and rubbing your back soothingly.

Once the contents of your stomach were emptied, you sat back, Ransom standing to get you a glass of water.

You leaned against the wall, feeling absolutely disgusting. Slurping the water, you knew the reason for all of this happening.

All of your previous symptoms came together in your mind, forming the conclusion that you were pregnant.

“Hey angel, how are you feeling?”

Ransom sat on the floor beside you, placing a hand on your forehead.

Somewhat irritated, you pushed his hand away, shaking your head.

“I feel like shit.”

There was no sign of amusement on your face, and Ransom just nodded.

“What do you think caused this?”

He was absolutely clueless, causing you to bitterly laugh.

“You.”

Ransom’s face contorted into annoyance and you placed a hand on his chest to calm him.

“I meant you knocked me up, Ran.”

You offered the man a small smile, who looked like his world had just been turned upside down.

Before you dated Ransom, he often had pregnancy scares with other women, but with you his reaction was different.

With those women, he just threw money at them, leaving them to their own decision, but with you, he looked extremely worried.

You’d never seen Ransom like this before.

“Uh. Are you sure? Actually, no. Wait right here, I’m going to go get a test.”

Before you were given a chance to speak, Ransom just rushed out.

His demeanor had shifted and it was unreadable.

Was he mad at you? If he was, you weren’t gonna stand for it.

Whatever Ransom was feeling, you’d work with it.

If he wasn’t going to be in this child’s life, then so be it.

You were a smart woman, who could make anything work.

Twenty minutes later, Ransom came back with four different tests, all different brands.

He smiled sheepishly at you and handed you the boxes, “I wasn’t sure what to get.”

Following the instructions of each, you went to go sit on the bed with Ransom, who was staring into the abyss.

He hadn't said a word. The only thing he had done so far, was open his arm so you could lean into his side.

As you waited for the timer, Ransom ran his hand over your hair, soothing you and probably himself.

In no time, the timer went off and you walked into the bathroom. Ransom sullenly trailing behind.

You paid no mind to his attitude as he’d open up to you when he was ready.

Reading the tests, they all read positive.

Excitedly, you squealed and threw your arms around Ransom’s neck.

“Whoa! What does this mean? It’s negative?”

“No! It’s positive. I’m pregnant, Ransom!”

Happily, you kissed his lips, a smile on your face the whole time.

When you pulled back, Ransom looked a bit spooked.

“Hey, honey, what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me.”

Ransom just shook his head and backed away.

“Nothing. It’s nothing, I’m fine. I’ll see you later, alright?”

The man gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek, once again rushing out, and not giving you a chance to question him.

With Ransom gone you had no clue when later meant.

So, taking a deep breath, you just moved on, trying not to become angry at Ransom.

You always told yourself that you could not just assume things until you knew for sure.

For now, to keep your mind off of things, you got showered and dressed, deciding to take yourself out for lunch and some shopping.

Around four o’clock, you came home, smiling to yourself upon finding Ransom’s car back in the driveway.

Held in your hand, was a small paper bag, having found a cute little onesie for the little one at a store you visited.

On the front, inscribed were the words, “daddy’s little angel.”

He always called you that, so you only found it fitting that he’d call your baby the same.

“Ransom?”

Walking around the house, it was seemingly empty. No sounds anywhere except a strained, “shit!” coming from upstairs.

You heard the sounds of a creaking floor, something that would only come from one moving furniture.

Immediately, your mind went to the worse and you were now seeing red.

Angrily, you threw down the back and stomped up the stairs.

The guest bedroom door was slightly cracked.

‘At least he had the decency to do it in another room,’ you thought to yourself.

Getting closer to the door, you heard a muffled feminine voice, and more stings of curses from Ransom.

With great vehemence, you threw the door open, eyes shut, but with a loud yell of Ransom’s full name.

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale, I swear if I find a woman in there, she better be decent!”

“What?”

Ransom sounded utterly offended, shutting off the youtube video, and standing to pry your hands from your face.

He looked at you with a smile, holding your wrists to his lips, placing kisses on them both.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, to find his goofy grin and a remodeled guest room.

At the sight of the room, you started crying.

Happy tears to be exact.

In the guest room, the white walls were now covered in different paint swatches, bookshelves mounted on the wall, and plastic covered the carpet, protecting it from the upcoming paint job.

Behind Ransom, was an unfinished crib, and his phone playing a youtube video, showing a woman assembling the thing. (The voice you had heard through the door)

It all clicked in your head and you felt like a complete idiot.

You snuggly wrapped your arms around Ransom’s neck, starting to laugh at the misunderstanding.

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch!”

The man just tightened his grip on your waist and smooched your forehead.

“It’s okay, angel. I know I don’t have the best track record.”

He looked down shamefully and you pulled up his chin to look into your eyes.

“No, that doesn’t justify my actions. I’m sorry, Ransom, and from now on, I will put more trust in you.”

You hugged him in a loving manner, hoping to get your words through.

“Well, I’m sorry too. For running off this morning. I was just scared, but then I had this… clarity. That everything was going to be okay.”

Ransom smiled at you and placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I see that now,” you giggled slightly, “To see the great Ransom Drysdale building something must mean that he cares.”

“You bet your ass I do! You have no idea how draining it is to build one of those things.”

The two both of you in entire bliss, you leaned forward to place a teasing kiss on the man that you absolutely adored.

“I’m sure I can give you some motivation.”

Ransom smirked at your words, and deeply kissed you once more, walking you down the hall, still lip-locked.

Sooner or later that crib would be finished.

[fusion-ego]

So... 2019, huh?

((LONG post ahead!))

This year has really been something, hasn’t it? I had to quit my second job ever because of my back problems (along with other shit lol), I hardly wrote anything all year, and I started in on my Bachelor’s degree. I moved 1600 miles cross-country to Arizona and I’ve been down here for six months now! I had to leave my Markiplier Nudes Calendar™ back in Illinois because I forgot to take it off my wall before I left and it probably got thrown away by the landlord :c, I let my parents borrow a credit card for the move down here and went into debt as a result of almost single-handedly financing the move, had several breakdowns, and despite my best attempts I haven’t been able to get a job yet, but I’m still trying!

A lot of things happened this year.

I turned 20.

I started liking myself again after years of literally hating myself and that quickly advanced to me loving myself again. Turns out I’m pretty cool, even if I am annoying as fuck.

Turns out that having primarily depressive episodes and not having the motivation or desire to take care of myself doesn’t make me any less of a person. It doesn’t make my struggles invalid just because I’m the one not taking care of myself. It turns out, taking care of yourself is fucking hard sometimes, especially if the combined symptoms of your mental and physical ailments put you in a position where everything feels like too much.

It also turns out that taking care of yourself is difficult when you’ve spent your entire life (or at least the parts where you actually had friends) putting all of the wants and needs of your friends and loved ones above your own.

Taking care of yourself is hard when you were raised to be The Strong One, who doesn’t break down and who doesn’t have any issues, thanks. The one who, sure, they haven’t showered in a week and they feel like crap because they haven’t eaten, but you don’t need to know that! You just go eat and take a shower, hun, The Strong One is okay.

It took until this year for me to learn that being The Strong One didn’t mean I couldn’t break down sometimes. It didn’t mean I couldn’t take time for myself and that I had to be available all the time for my friends. Setting boundaries has been a learning experience for me and everyone else in my friend group, I think. I think I’ve cried more this year than I have since I was a kid, and you know what that is? Growth.

And honestly, I’ve really gotta thank my lovely fiance @goreyglitches for some of that. I am petrified of crying when anyone can see or hear me. I was raised to be The Strong One and The Strong One doesn’t cry. I conditioned myself to not be a “crybaby” and to never, ever, ever cry. And I know that’s bad - repressing negative emotions just makes it worse in the long-run. I figured that out with anger and tried to fix it long before I tried to fix the crying issue, and this year? This year Tobi’s helped a lot. I trust him, and I feel safe with him, so when he shuts the door and pulls the covers over us and holds me and tells me it’s okay to cry, I cry. And I am so grateful to him for that I don’t think I even have words.

And @ashencreations has been a wonderful friend this year, as always, even if both of us have been having issues this year. They’ve, I think, been one of the people I vented to the absolute most and they’ve been a real peach about it and even if I don’t have a whole lot of energy to talk sometimes (most of the time) they still love me and are accommodating of my issues. That’s pretty cool! I know a lot of people who can’t talk to people they’ve dated in the past and I have to admit I wouldn’t have been surprised if we fell out this year, but here we are - finishing another year as best friends. They let me have my space and they check in to make sure I’ve eaten and slept and showered. And I try to do the same but my check-ins have been a little lackluster this year while I find my boundaries so oops for that. I’ll try harder next year!

And really, I have to thank everyone who’s stuck with me through this year. My friends and my followers and even just folks who know me because I’m mutuals with someone they’re friends with - all of you. I know this year has sucked and I’ve been really annoying and I’m constantly asking for money, so thank you for sticking around. I’m trying to get back into the old swing of things and I’ve put in about a billion applications and I’m in University, can you believe that? You guys being patient even when I’m annoying has been really helpful. This is especially true of the folks in Lexi’s server who have to see me venting all the time. Y’all are darlings and I’m sorry I keep dragging my shit in there lmao I’ll try not to so much next year.

I’m especially thankful, though, I think, of the people who are still with me after so many years of knowing me. Like Ran and Ness and Zare and Comedy and even Em, even if we don’t talk. I mean, Em probably the most - she knew me when I was such a shithead that it’s kinda laughable now and yet she’s willing to be mutuals with me now. That’s pretty funny. (Hey, Em, guess who’s still trying to figure out how to write that TMNT thing and make it as interesting as the original idea was?) And of course I’ve known Comedy since elementary school but we didn’t really get close until high school and then I dropped off the face of the earth for like a year lol but she’s been a peach the whole time I’ve known her. And Ran’s been around for a while, we’ve known each other long enough that he probably still remembers when I went by Al. And Ness, who doesn’t have tumblr to my knowledge, well I’ve known her since diapers and she’s going to be the Maid of Honor at mine and Tobi’s wedding when we have the money to do a real ceremony - I would have filled that place at her wedding, too, if her sister-in-law wasn’t a needy bitch who had to have that position or she’d pitch a fit and ruin the entire wedding. And like, don’t even get me started on Zare, who was there when I was the worst shithead I’ve ever been and somehow still likes me even all these years later. I introduced myself to this man as Prussia, y’all. I introduced myself to him as a fallen kingdom because it was easier to pronounce than my legal name.

(It may have also been because I was into Hetalia and projected onto the character really hard because of all the “I’m awesome!” and thought it would help me be more confident, and also perhaps because my legal name being mispronounced led to a lot of people knowing me as a different fallen kingdom so it was a haha funny joak to me)

Also, this year, a certain vine-man turned youtube-man made a video that really, really spoke to me. Thomas introducing Remus and having an entire episode about intrusive thoughts and ‘bad’ creativity was - it meant a lot to me. Because since 2018, when I started writing Ego stuff, I haven’t... Well, I used to write a lot of dark stuff, y’all. I wrote violent shit because I wanted to and it was kinda just my Thing™. But after I started writing Ego stuff I started feeling like that was problematic, like it was a bad thing that I wanted to write nasty stuff like that. No one did anything to make me think that! It was just that, well, that kind of violence just... Seemed out of place. I’ve been in the process of writing a 146K+ word, 43 chapter fic containing ritualistic cannibalism, murder, unsafe sex, and various other nasty things since 2017 and I spent a terrifying amount of time feeling... Bad for that last year and this year. I’ve had to re-learn that it’s okay to write nasty stuff (no matter the moral issues other people take with it) because exploring not-so-great things in fic, especially to cope, is one of the many points of writing fic. And I’ll be honest, my dumpster fire fic was something I was writing to get through my associate’s degree because it was a new and terrifying experience and the prominent theme of running away was a feeling I was dealing with in tandem at the time. Remus’ introduction reminded me that dealing with intrusive thoughts and exploring the ‘bad’ creativity doesn’t make me a bad person, it just means I have nasty ideas and even the best people can have those. At least I can turn them into something I’m proud of writing.

So, going forward, I’m not going to shy away from writing my nasty stuff, and in 2020 I’m going to try and finish Trial and Error. I haven’t updated it since August, 2018, guys, it needs a new chapter.

And on that note, I don’t usually make New Years’ Resolutions. I never saw the point in the past and it wasn’t something super encouraged by anyone around me, so it never seemed important. But I’m making a resolution this year.

Over the years and years of writing, I’ve encountered something I think every writer encounters - I stopped writing. Now, I’m not saying I don’t write. Obviously I do, and have been, for a long time. I’m saying I don’t write like I used to. In 2013/2014 I wrote a 36-chapter Sly Cooper fic featuring an OC that still gets hits to this day, and I wrote it over the course of three months. I started it in November 2013 and it was done and put aside by the third of January 2014. It’s still one of my favorites! But the chapters are short, the storyline needs work, I didn’t spellcheck anything or even remotely try to keep my timeline completely straight. It was the first multi-chapter story exceeding 10 chapters that I ever finished. I wrote a chapter a day, as long as I was capable of doing so, I posted it, and I never looked back. It’s not a great story, but it’s one of my favorites. I loved it then and I love it now. And that’s something I don’t do anymore! When a fic doesn’t live up to my expectations, I don’t love it like I love that old fic, which did not at all live up to my expectations. My perfectionism has developed over the years and it has killed my creativity. I can still make cool stuff, can still make things I like, but it’s not the same anymore.

So my resolution is, in 2020, I’m going to write.

I’m going to write like I used to, but I’m going to put all of my experience into it.

I started writing in 2008 or 2009, maybe even before that - if I can recapture the love I had for it then, then I will be in great shape. I didn’t spellcheck back then and frankly I kinda sucked at writing even in 2013/2014, but if I can love writing like I did then and put all of what I’ve learned into it? Holy shit. I mean, I’ve been rewriting that old Sly Cooper fic for the past couple weeks, so it’s not exactly a mystery how much better things will turn out if I pour my much better spelling and grammar, my better ideas, my better commitment, into my fics going forward. All I need to make them great is to love doing it.

So in 2020, I’m going to write.

2019 has been a wild ride, and I’ve written less than half of what I wrote in 2018, not even counting all of my Ego requests for either year. I’ve spent the last three days in a mad dash to reach 100K written this year on AO3 by writing 30K before midnight tonight. I have 5K left! But even breaching 100K I won’t be halfway there. In 2018 I wrote 225.6K on AO3, not counting Ego stuff. And I think that’s because I haven’t loved doing it like I used to - the fact that I’ve loved the fic I started in order to make my “30K by tonight” goal and I haven’t let myself have enough time to agonize over whether it’s “good” or not has a lot of effect on how much I’ve written. My wordcount per hour has, like, doubled because I actually wanted to work. So I’ll reach my goal by tonight and still have time to celebrate at midnight.

So, again, thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me through this crazy year. Things haven’t been great, I’ll be honest, but I’m hoping next year will be better. They’re already off to a good start - my dad and I have a plan for him to start paying me back for how much money we spent moving here, and if I can get a job it’ll only get easier and it’ll only get better. And on top of that me and Tobi have plans to legalize our Marriage™ in September. It won’t be anything big - we’re waiting to have a real ceremony until we have the money to make sure Zare and Ness and Ran can come. But if all goes well, on 9/20/20 we’ll have the legal shit sorted out and Tobi will officially be my husband so that’s just another thing to be looking forward to.

Happy New Year, y’all! Hope you all have a good one. I speak a good 2020 into existence and I won’t stop until I get it.