#me projecting what it was like to get migraines basically every week from middle through highschool

[thelampisaflashlight]

Worry Me, Worry You

[Dew is sick Swiss has some feelings about it. Contains discussion of being sick both in the sense of being unwell as well as in the physical sense. A fair bit of angst with a mild resolution at the end.] Below the cut.

When Dew gets sick, It starts with a weakness in his fingers, an inability to grip things in his hand without it feeling... off.

His muscles and joints feel loose and wrong, so he clenches his fists tighter, strains and tires himself without realizing until he can't manage simple tasks anymore.

His hands shake, and his sight goes to static at the edges, save for a strange, drifting clear spot in his vision, that has a filminess to it like a soap bubble without the rainbow sheen.

The pain doesn't set in right away, but the inability to focus his vision, combined by the sudden loss of his fine motor tells him it's only a matter of time before it does.

So when his hand refuses to close around the pen he's been using to scribble down notes with, he knows something's wrong... and he needs to deal with it before someone sees him.

Dew wets his lips, grateful to have caught things in the early stages, before his stomach has a chance to turn, before he feels that familiar numbness in the back of his throat...

He drops the pen onto the desk and closes his eyes, trying to strategize how exactly he's going to make it from his desk to his on suite bathroom without jostling himself too much.

He only needs to make it ten feet.

Why does that seem so far away now?

With great difficulty, Dew stands on unsure feet for only a moment before feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"Shit." he staggers uncoordinatedly in one spot before carefully lowering himself to the ground, knees pressing into the hardwood, and crawls to the bathroom instead.

He can barely reach the handle from the floor, but when he does, the door refuses to budge, and Dew bumps against it weakly with his shoulder, accidentally knocking his head and wincing.

He really needs to get this thing fucking fixed.

His head and the damned door.

Dew grunts awkwardly, smacking his hand uselessly against the flat surface.

It doesn't even make a sound when his hand slaps it, looks more like he's drunkenly petting it if anything.

Fuck.

His eyes water, clouding his already hazy vision as the pain starts to really set in.

It's like someone stabbing him repeatedly in the head with a metal fork, but lifting each time to scrape against the insides of his skull, and the only thing he can think to do is press his face to the floor and hope it's cold enough to soothe the persistent pulsing in his brain.

He tries to breathe normally, keep himself from clenching his jaw, but it's hard.

His body feels impossibly heavy.

He shivers.

Across the room, he can hear his phone buzzing.

Someone's calling him, but he just closes his eyes, trying to block out the noise.

It's not easy, and the grating sound of it rattling against the desktop feels like a knife in his ear, but, eventually, he's more focused on keeping his stomach settled and his head cooled that he's too out of it to realize his bedroom door is opening.

.

.

.

When Dew opens his eyes again, he's in his bed, bundled up in a sweatshirt too big to be his own, propped up on his side by a pillow wedged under his back, and a blanket covering him from the waist down, so his legs stay warm, but ensuring that his tender stomach stays relatively cooler.

A cold compress falls from his neck as he lifts his head, looking around the room tiredly.

He's dully aware of two things as he comes back to himself.

His mouth tastes like... peppermint.

Whoever put him here also brushed his teeth, and...

There's a distinct smell of artificial lemons in the air, like the floor cleaner they use specifically for the wood floors when there's been a spill so it doesn't leave a stain.

He tries not to think about what the person needed to clean up besides, ya know, him.

Dew sniffs again, but something about the action causes a fleck of spit to go down the wrong tube, and he lets out a little cough, which quickly turns into a groan as the muscles in his abdomen contract.

"Ah, you're awake."

Dew makes a small, befuddled noise in the back of his throat, followed by a weary chirp when he sees Rain walk into the room, smiling at him.

Dew drags himself up into a sitting position, and Rain is quick to rearrange his pillows to keep him upright.

"...Did you clean up my... the mess?" he croaks, his throat feels painfully dry, "Ow..."

"Mm-mm." Rain shakes his head, uncapping a water bottle and handing it to Dew.

"Nah, that was Swiss, he's the one who found you on the floor. Said he was coming to show you something stupid he bought and... yeah."

Dew tries to lift the bottle to drink, but his hands are too shaky and he spills a little down the front of his shirt, pouting.

Seeing his predicament, Rain steadies the bottle enough for Dew to drink a few good sips of water before taking it back and setting it on the nightstand beside the bed, "Better?"

"Mn..." he clicks his tongue, "I feel like... a rock... a rock made of shit."

"That's... I have no idea if feeling like a coprolite is better or worse than you felt before, but I'm going to assume that means you're feeling... relatively okay?"

"Ehn." Dew shrugs, "...my head doesn't hurt anymore, but my stomach's being a bitch..."

"Do you think you're going to throw up again?" Rain asks, worriedly eyeing the bathroom door.

"No... it's just sore now." he says, sinking back into the pillows, looking around the room curiously, "...Where'd Swiss go?"

"To take a shower." Rain says, glancing at the floor.

Ah.

"...'m sorry." Dew mumbles and Rain just smiles sadly and pets his hair.

"If you want to apologize to properly, you've gotta rest up and get better, okay?"

Dew nods, purring sleepily as Rain scratches around his horns.

"Any idea what made you sick?" Rain asks and Dew shrugs.

"Mn, migraine maybe... dunno..." he tugs at his shirt, "...Whose is this? Is this a unicorn riding a... riding a motorcyle, what?"

"It's Cirrus'."

Dew pinches his eyes shut and grumbles, "How many of you saw me all... gross and shit?"

There's a brief pause of consideration before Rain responds.

"Uh... When Swiss found you, he kind of shouted and..."

Dew covers his face with his hands.

"...Fuuuck..."

"We didn't know what was happening and-" Rain cuts himself off, watching tears dribble down Dew's chin, "Dew? Dew, does something hurt?"

"'m fuckin' embarrassed, what the fuck..." he whines, turning away from Rain and smushing his face into the pillow.

"Dew, it's-"

"'s'not okay..." Dew mumbles, "...I don't even remember what happened between being on the floor and now, and you all... that's fuckin' stupid."

"How's it stupid?"

"...I'm stupid. This is stupid-"

"Dew-"

"-My body's fucking stupid!" Dew cries, whipping around and throwing the pillows off his bed in a fit, flopping back down only to kick the sheets off as well, sniffling angrily when they refuse to untangle from around his legs.

"I'm a fuckin' demon! I'm supposed to be tougher than this!"

"Dew." Rain says a bit more firmly, grabbing his knees, forcing his legs to still, "Dew, I know it's upsetting, but we've got this, yeah? We're gonna take care of you."

"I don't want that..." Dew wipes his eyes with the sleeve of Cirrus' sweatshirt, "Don't want it..."

"Don't want us to take care of you or..." Rain tries, lowering his voice.

"Don't want..." Dew rolls onto his side again, "...I don't... I don't like..."

Rain tilts his head and waits.

"...I don't..." he can't finish the sentence.

He doesn't even know how he's supposed to articulate what he's feeling right now aside from sick.

His brain feels like pudding and all he can keep thinking about is how all of them...

...All of them...

"...Don't like it when you see me... see me like that..." he says finally, picking at the mattress, "Just leave me on the floor next time, pretend you didn't notice-"

The door creaks open and Swiss enters with his arms crossed.

"You... you know we can't do that, right?" he scoffs, holding his hand up when Dew opens his mouth to argue, "Sorry, baby boy, but I... we don't like seeing you suffer as much as you seem to want to hide it, so, like, no."

Dew hisses, but feels the fight leaving him when Rain sends him a sympathetic look and kneads his shoulder soothingly.

Swiss enters the room fully and shuts the door part way, leaving it ajar, before sitting down on the end of his bed, just out of kicking range in case Dew throws another tantrum.

"...This is fucking humiliating..." Dew huffs, staring daggers at his ceiling fan.

"Which part? Your sweet new sleep shirt curtesy of Cirrus, or the fact that we all love you so much we wouldn't let you lie on the floor in agony?"

Dew tilts his head down to look at the shirt again.

"...The latter."

He does have to admit he likes the design, but that's not the point.

"Well, too bad. We love ya, and you're going to have to get used to that." Swiss teases, "But, really, dude... We were really worried."

Rain nods.

"I would have been fine..." Dew whispers, "Not my first rodeo with this shit, so..."

"And you know that's more concerning, right?" Swiss points out, "Cause here's the thing; I don't care if you don't care about your own wellbeing, I mean, I fucking DO because you should care, but that's not even... What I'm trying to say is, if you're not doing well, you can tell us, you know that, yeah?"

Dew frowns, returning to glaring at his ceiling.

"Dew..." Swiss sighs, "I..."

He takes a deep breath and leans forward to hold his hand.

"Have any of us... ever made you feel like it isn't safe to talk about this stuff?" he asks.

"...No."

"But, do you... feel like it's not safe to talk about it?"

Dew doesn't answer right away, but when he does, his voice wobbles a bit.

"Yeahh..."

Rain returns to petting Dew's hair, "We've got you."

Swiss gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

At some point, Dew falls back asleep.

His dreams are nightmarish and provide little to no respite.

.

.

.

When Dew wakes, Rain is gone, but Swiss is lounging on his bed beside him scrolling through his phone, and Dew angles his head to take a peek at his screen.

"...Is that a dog or a cat?" he asks, his words a bit slurred from the way he's squished.

Swiss startles and almost drops his phone, "Jesus!"

He places a hand on his chest.

"I thought you were asleep!"

"I was." Dew mumbles, "...And now I'm awake."

"Thank you for the rundown, Captain Obvious.... Geez... You're scaring me a lot today, you know that?" Swiss pinches Dew's cheek and gives it a pull.

"Aughh diiidnth meean tooahh..." Dew says, "...'m thorry."

Swiss lets go of his face and sets his phone off to the side.

"You really did though." he says, ruffling Dew's hair, "I got scared seeing you on the ground like that, I didn't know what to do, and if... if something..."

He shakes his head.

"Actually, let's talk about that later, when you're better... How're you feeling now that you've slept some more?"

Dew yawns, "Weirdly more tired..."

Swiss snorts, "Yeah?"

"Yeah..." Dew wriggles closer to Swiss, looping his arm around his midsection and bumping his head against his chest.

"Whatcha doin' there, bud?"

"Lay down." Dew nudges him, "Sleep."

"Well, since you asked so politely..."

Dew lets Swiss go in order for him to get settled, resting his head on the pillow beside his.

"I'm still upset with you." Swiss informs him, but still allows Dew to snuggle up against his side, "...Glad you're not dead though."

"You thought I died?"

Swiss hums.

"You weren't responding when I called your name or shook you, so... yeah... yeah, I did." he says, resting his chin on top of Dew's head, "Aeth came running, made sure that... that you weren't... ya know."

"...Ah..."

"I..." Swiss swallows, voice cracking, "...Everybody was scared, but then you woke up! And we got you to answer some questions, and then... then you..."

"What did I do?" Dew asks nervously.

"You, uh, you... it was like the meme... You were just standing there, like dumbfounded about it, and meanwhile I'm over here like, 'BRO'..."

"This clears up nothing."

"You ruined my crocs."

"Oh. Ohhh..."

"Yeah."

They sit in silence for a moment while Dew processes this new information.

"...In hindsight, that's... that's at least a little funny." he says, "...Who brushed my teeth?"

"Oh that was Aeth and Rainy, they had a hell of a time getting into your bathroom, so they took you to Cirrus' room and got you all cleaned up. That's where we got the shirt and the shorts."

Dew lifts the blankets and stares.

Pink with white polka dots... what kind of cursed wardrobe is Cirrus hiding in her bedroom?

"After that, Mount made some weird tea and made you drink it, which, like, I don't know what was in that stuff-"

"Peppermint and chamomile with a sprinkling of ginger and two ibuprofen on the side!" Mountain calls from the other side of the wall.

Swiss blinks, "Damn the walls in this place are thin..."

"Anyway, you drank, like, two cups of that and zonked out, and that's about it. Still embarrassed?"

"Little bit... Less now that I know what happened... that's the scariest part." Dew confesses, "...It's the idea that something happened and I don't remember, but other people do, combined with... I dunno, not being able to stop it from happening to begin with..."

"Well... maybe a trip to the doctor is in order to help with that last part." Swiss says, rubbing Dew's back, "...Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, Dewboy."

"Love you, too."

"We all love each other, now go to bed already, some of us are trying to sleep!" Cirrus chimes in from across the hallway, sending a pillow through the open door.

"You're all ruining the moment!" Swiss complains.

"If everyone is awake right now, can someone get me a glass of water?" Sunny inquires.

"Didn't I already get you-"

Swiss gets up and closes the door.

"Bedtime?" he asks.

"Bedtime." Dew confirms, holding his arms out for Swiss to collapse back into.

[kojinnie]

AOT Characters’ Modern Jobs Headcanon; The Vets Edition!

The jobs that The Vets would have in modern!au, their workplace antics and their back story. There might be some inaccuracies when describing the job as obviously I don’t work at these industries to know its intricacies. Most of the jobs are office jobs. Enjoyyyy!

My Masterlist .::. Pt. II: Zeke Yeager’s Modern Jobs Headcanon   

Most recent work: Dream Me Home (Before Shiganshina) | reader x erwin smith

A/N: I really need to finish a presentation deck due tonight for an early morning meeting tomorrow but of course, this comes first hahaha 

erwin!

A/N: Basically lawyer!erwin is the way to go, innit?

He's in his 40s, so he may have a settled career

He came from a white-collar, middle-class family. So he wasn’t silverspoon-fed, but his parents had enough money to put him through good school

Got a scholarship to go to one of the nation’s finest law schools

Kept it lowkey in college’s social circle, graduated with summa cum laude, developed a strong academic relation with his professor, and got recommended for an internship at top law firm at the capital city

Starting his career as a corporate lawyer, but then built his expertise as white-collar crime attorney

In his early 30s, he represented a union suing against conglomerate corporation in a big case that had national coverage, from then on he began to know his calling

Expanding his portfolio and became well-known for defending workers, consumers and civilians against corporate fraud scheme

Currently doing a lot of pro-bono cases for deprived victims of big corporate fraud. You would see him frequently gracing your local newspaper we love us some socialist king

On the side, he often writes for law journal and fills in as guest professor at local universities for summer courses

Established his own law firm with some of his partners, specializing in white collar crime and labor & employment law

He’s damn accomplished, but never really had any time for self-indulgence. Even after he becomes a household name in the country, with tens of attorneys working under him, his employees would still see him working on New Year’s Eve

He was always attentive to his employees, though. Although he has a very strict, borderline no-life work ethics, he never forces his employees to follow his habit, in fact he despises when his employees works on holidays and can be seen blaming himself for it a bit of a hypocrite but thats ok

He still takes metro to work. He prefers a very lowkey, ordinary lifestyle because he fears if he shows any knack for indulgence, he will be susceptible to gratification from potential enemies or crooked politicians

Definitely a sight to see at the workplace, for he's tall and always oozes a sense of authority in the way he speaks and carries himself generally

His emotional intelligence is top-notch, you would never meet someone who is able to be very objective and calculating, while being kind and compassionate at the same time

His fellow attorneys put a lot for respect for him, and hundreds of applicants come to his considerably small firm every week, because a lot of aspiring attorney find him inspiring to work with

He wasn’t oblivious to his shiny reputation, but he’s trying his hardest to not let the compliments get to his head. Sometimes he doesn’t give himself enough credit for it

Was approached by one of the political party’s committee to run for local senate, but turned it down

basically he’s perfect if you like a man who’s never home for christmas

Hange!

A/N: Ok ok, I really wanna see Paleontologist!Hange because it has always been my fave dream job, but I want Hange to be out and about with people so here it is

Hange is the type to be incredibly good at one thing, that she will dedicate her whole life for that pursuit, but will be awfully oblivious to a whole lot of things (not intentional of course, they just have a very limited attention span) (they wouldn’t know who kanye west is or what tiktok is)

Like Erwin, they came from a middle-class family. While Erwin’s parents might have been teachers, accountants or other common profession, Hange came from a family of academician and researchers

Hange studied Human Geography at uni, but later found passion specifically in its relation to industrialization and urban development

Hange aims to advocate for a better living condition for workforce, and nearby inhabitants of industrialized city detroit would be a beautiful city if only they let hange designed it

Hange is a professor at university, where they also led a non-profit research think-thank that also serves as pressure group for better government policy.

The university that Hange teaches in, is also the uni where Erwin teaches in summer. They’re close-knitted colleagues as they share similar passion. Erwin relies on Hange a lot for some intellectual insights to help his cases  

Hange is relentless in their cause, you may find Hange everywhere! From street protest to a hearing in the government court. They are passionate and will do anything for the cause they believe in

Hange was once hired by the government as an independent consultant for a new housing project, but left because they grew to be frustrated by the government’s bureaucracy and their outward reluctance to follow Hange's recommendation

Hange spends a lot of time overseas, consulting and advocating development in newly industrialized countries

On Hange’s birthday, her fellow researchers surprised them with a ‘pampering day’ where they took them to an optometrist because Hange had been complaining about their eyesight for a YEAR that gave them a lot of migraines, but was always either too busy or too lazy to go

Hange never really considers themselves as working, because they enjoy their job very much. Hange likes to spend months observing a community, talking to people for hours, and trying their best in understanding their problem

Out of so many great qualities that Hange has as a researcher that meets different set of people everyday, prejudice or preconceived judgment is completely absent in Hange’s demeanor and perspective

Hange doesn’t get a lot of free-time, even if they do, they’d wander around the city to do a little observation. But when the weather’s bad and they’re stuck at home with their pet lizard, they would logged into Quora to answer random internet questions

They’re an avid writer for National Geographic, and one time Hange won a pitch to make a documentary about an industrial city project they were working on

After the docu-series got broadcasted, Hange gained a small but passionate and loyal fans on the internet. You could even find a subreddit dedicated for Hange’s works

for real I want to be Hange. I want to have that kind of passion in life

levi!

A/N: I spent a lot of times thinking about Levi’s job in modern!au. Because here’s the thing, either we adopt his unfortunate childhood into its modern!au equivalent, or let’s just recreate his whole upbringing. But I think his personality stems from a specific things he experienced during childhood, so let’s not dismiss that.

Levi came from a struggling working class family. I reckon his parents might have had worked multiple jobs to sustain their living expense. Unfortunately they both passed away when Levi was very little, and left little to no inheritance

Levi’s parents were not close to their extended family, so when they died, Levi was admitted to the system and had to brace several foster families who didn’t really pay attention to him

Little Levi had come to realize that life’s all about survival and so he had been able to fend on for himself since very young age, he never asked for things

His uncle, Kenny, finally won custody over Levi when he was in elementary. Kenny made money from small-scale racketeering here and there. Levi never asked what he did for living, as long as he got food to eat and tuition paid off

Kenny was emotionally absent, but he loved spending time with the oddly quiet little child, teaching him a lot of crafts, from carpentering to how to flay pig’s skin

Levi didn’t really care about getting into college, and thought that he’d probably end up working for his uncle, so he put his bare minimum throughout school, although he was really good with numbers, especially in math, accounting and finance

One time in high school, Levi’s teacher asked him to sign up for the olympiad team, Levi turned it down because he thought that was a rich kid thing

He didn’t even apply for college, and worked odd jobs after high school. Probably working as cashiers or assistant to retail shop’s owner for couple of years, enough for him to afford a cheap studio apartment on his own

One of his bosses came to acknowledge Levi’s talent, and trusted him to handle the company’s accounting

By sheer luck, the company hit it big, and Levi found himself running the day-to-day accounting of mid-sized business with over 300 employees

He made good money already without a college degree, but with a new-found confidence Levi applied for uni, where he chose to study accounting (of course)

Although he was confident with his skills, he understood he needed to widen his horizon and network -- thus uni

Levi was one of the oldest members of his cohort in uni, but graduated with highest distinction

After graduating, with his skills and experience, it wasn’t hard for Levi to score a job at top accounting firm

There, he discovered an interest for forensic accounting, where through audits, analysis and investigation, he basically finds out if a company is doing fraud and embezzlement or not

This is where he came to know and get acquainted with Erwin and Hange (yippie they’re together again)

The firm he works for was assigned to investigate the finances of a troublesome company that had been sued by its workers for a jeopardizing working condition. Erwin was on the case, and Levi helped him with evidences for legal proceeding.

By chance, Erwin introduced Levi to Hange. At first, Levi would find Hange annoying and overtly energized, but after learning the things they have done, Levi grew to appreciate Hange’s passion (and secretly wants to have more of his positive outlook)

Levi is fucking good his job. In short amount of time, he could get a really ideal position in the office. He was almost foolproof, finding even the tiniest bit of discrepancy in his audit. He’d get assigned to the big league case/project.

Although really good at his job, he’s not a social person, especially in his office. He couldn’t understand the lavish lifestyle that finance and banking people often lead. He will only show up to office party if it is really necessary for him to show up (usually to receive some kind of informal awards for, again, being so fucking good) 

He leads a no-bullshit attitude at the office, largely because of his background. He is a self-made man, and is not easy to impress by some young executives from posh school that talk bigger than they can chew

His cold, seemingly dismissive attitude gained him a reputation of being scary, when actually he is very considerate

One of the things he enjoys doing is to actually teach, he really likes when a new kid at the office come to him with none of that pretentious, big talk, and really asks for his guidance. He would love to teach you a thing or two

He would frequently check on his mentee, just to keep up with their development

And he doesn’t take credit too. When his mentee makes a milestone, he believes it’s 100% your work

If you’re his mentee, he probably doesn’t give a crap about your personal life, so don’t expect him to make small talk about that (and don’t ask him about his personal life either). But he really cares about your skill and career development

Same with Erwin, he leads a very ordinary lifestyle. He doesn’t go out often and would rather reading detective novel with his cat on the couch

He likes to spend Sunday at Uncle Kenny’s house, because he finds himself worried about the old man very often. They became close as Levi grew

Overall, Levi is a really kind and caring person if you know how not to push his button

[magnus-sm-writes]

Lessons in Humanity Camp NaNo 2020 Wrap-Up

I’ve finished Lessons in Humanity from a Future Physicist and y’all know what that means! Yes, it’s time for one of those huge, all-inclusive posts about my WIP that exactly no one asks for! (And the crowd groans at the migraine-inducing thought of another one!)

(Check out my WIP intro and WIP page for Lessons in Humanity if you’re interested in learning more about the story!)

A Brief History

Lessons in Humanity began as an avenue for me to talk about my depression and anxiety as a 12-year-old. Basically, I just made these characters’ lives miserable, and then I got super attached to the characters and thought man, they deserve an actual narrative. And thus, six years later, I’m projecting my fear of going off to college on my own and my mental illnesses onto these characters. I like to say that, as I have matured, so has this story. This book holds a piece of my soul help.

The Purpose of the Rewrite

This particular pass-though was more about changing a couple things in Lessons in Humanity than fine-tuning things like most of my novel rewrites. There were a couple big things I edited, including the setting and tweaking some of the subplots. (I feel like there are still issues with the middle and a couple stylistic problems with the prose in places, but I’ll fix those at a later point.)

What I’ve Learnt

This runthrough of Lessons in Humanity has made me realize that I am good at writing complex dialogue between these specific characters. Because Lessons in Humanity used to be from Kam’s perspective, I was sort of blinded from the nuance in my own story (Kam has very little situational awareness/ability to read subtext). But this re-write has made me realize: these characters are very nuanced and have a lot of complex moments between them. And the character dynamics are just as complex as the dialogue. It turns out that I am better at writing subtext than I thought I was, which is awesome!

Highlights!

It was difficult to find non-spoilery highlights, but these are some parts I take particular pride in. 

Vic likes to go on late-night drives all the time. Sometimes, he would take Gerard and Kam with him, when they weren’t busy. In the wintertime, as Vic drove them outside of Dayton, the snowflakes would catch in the headlights, making it look like they were heading through space at warp drive instead of down 70  in the general direction of Columbus. They were purposeless drives, through the rain or snow or clear nights, stars more visible the further they got from their city, while Vic played whatever music he wanted. Sometimes they would talk, other times they wouldn’t.

Zach doesn’t go on purposeless drives the same way that Vic likes to. He’s more worried about gas, about gas prices, about gas mileage, always so worried about something. 

Kam likes that worry. Zach without his anxieties wouldn’t be Zach at all. Ruth once said it’s the imperfections that make people worthwhile when defending a character in a book she’d read. Zach, without every imperfection of his-- without his stutter, without his uncertainties, without his need to cling to other people-- would not be worthwhile.

For the rest of the ride home, Kam stares at the picture. They’re in their graduation caps, smiling so hard it looks like they’ll be stuck like that forever. Zach has spent that entire week talking about nothing but the future, beautiful in its hypothetical as anything. He’d go to college and live in a studio apartment with his love, doing what he loves, for the rest of his life. He and Kam talked about NASA internships in Florida, in Texas-- wherever they could get them together-- with the same giddiness they talked about what college to go to and their favorite Star Wars characters. Their senior year was full of dreams and hard work.

Zach was still in love with Chai. Kam was still okay. They were living at their homes. A lot has changed since then. Kam shudders at that thought, but then he looks at Zach, at how he’s sneaking glances at Kam, checking out how he likes the playlist, and there’s that feeling again, the sweaty-palmed, gravitational pull, and he thinks, I think I can be okay with this. 

Zach closes his eyes. His face is wet from crying, raw from rubbing at it, red all over. Even then, even after what’s happened, he still looks almost beautiful. There’s something about the lighting in an art museum that makes everything look like art, even raw emotion. It rounds out like the patheticness of breaking down in public into something artful. Zach doesn’t look anything like a model, but he does look like art.

Stars will continue to form and break, making black holes and neutron stars and supernovas. The Earth will continue to orbit the Sun, the Moon will continue to orbit the Earth. Life will continue. 

Why? Kam wants to ask. It’s a question he’s been acquainted with ever since he was young. Why?, he would ask, pointing to objects as a child. Why?, he would ask, when he learned the simple sciences of the universe and wanted to understand how exactly they worked. Why?, he would ask, when someone would tell him not to do something that made sense to him. 

And the Jams

The Lessons in Humanity playlist is pretty lit and I recommend it.

What Comes Next? 

I’m likely going to work on either He’s Like An Ocean or Midway Through Summer’s Bullshit, which are two works I highly highly recommend keeping up on!

Who’s Interested?

@aelenko​ & @lrosesc​! (You can always ask to be added to/subtracted from the taglist!)

[biavenger]

The Lives I’ve Loved You;

ENSummary: History repeats itself.

A/N: A cute fic!!! A little angsty. I’ll be doing a part 3 to Girl Crush and a part 2 to Christmas Lights eventually, I just felt really inspired by this idea I had. 

New York

April, 1861

“Steve Rogers here to see you, ma’am.” 

Y/N didn’t bother to turn to see the man who was just introduced, for she knew exactly what he news he had come to deliver. The entire country was on the brink of war with itself, half of it threatening to withdrawal from the entire Union, and it was only a matter of time before the government started asking for the able-bodied young men to enlist. 

“So is that the kind of greeting you find appropriate for a proper enlisted man?” Steve’s voice sounded quite proud as he attempted to gain the woman’s attention. All it managed was to get Y/N to face him, a cold expression on her face. Of course, Steve had probably one of the first in line at the registry to enlist. “Y/N, the papers are saying they need all the men they can get, that-” he started, but his impending speech was cut off by a callous wave of her hand.

“Don’t lecture me on patriotic duty,” Y/N nearly sneered, “You lied to me.” Rumors of a war had been spreading like wildfire since the election of Abraham Lincoln as president, and when Y/N asked Steve if he would enlist, he only expressed mild interest at the idea, but said he wouldn’t.

“It’s to keep the Union together, Y/N,” Steve said, “And more importantly, it’s for freedom.” 

Y/N knew, deep down, that there was no way Steve would have let his neighbors go to war without him marching alongside. He was a stubborn, stubborn boy, and always had to have himself in the action. It did not lessen the sting of potential loss, though, at the revelation of what she knew was coming all along. The idea created an ache in her that made it difficult for her to suppress the tears welling in her eyes any longer. At the sight, Steve strode across the room. 

“Don’t cry, my love,” Steven took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb along the backside of it, “They say it’ll only last a few months- at most. Then I can come back to you.” 

“You can’t promise that,” Y/N’s voice shook as the tears began to flow freely. She stared at the mud that encrusted his boots, refusing to make eye-contact with him. The moment she looked into his stunning, ocean blue eyes, she knew it would be over for her. 

“I can promise that we’ll be together, forever,” Steve began, using his spare hand to reach into his back trouser pocket and pull out a delicate silver ring, “And I can promise that I’ll love you forever, if you’ll have me. Y/N- will you marry me?” At the last words, he dropped to one knee. He held the ring at the tip of her finger, not quite sliding it on in case he was rejected. 

“Yes, Steve. Yes.” 

June, 1863

My love,

I want to begin this letter by once again professing my eternal love for you. As I’m writing this, my regiment is on its way to intercept rebel troops at the border of Maryland and Pennsylvania. The battle that’s been going on there is into its second day now. If you’re reading this letter, my darling Y/N, I want you to promise me not to be afraid. I promised that I’ll love you forever, and I fully intend to keep that promise.

Steve Rogers 

73rd New York Volunteer Infantry Regiment

“We’re very sorry, miss,” one of the soldiers in her parlor said, although both of the men refused to make eye contact with her, “All they found on him was this letter, and a picture of you. We had thought that you would have liked to have them both, ma’am.”

Washington, DC

1945

“This is the best they could come up with?”

Y/N asked the question that everyone in the room was thinking. Dr. Erskine had spent months trying to find the most suitable candidate to be the next Super Soldier. After so many previously failed attempts at getting the Super Soldier Serum to work, there were extraordinary amounts of pressure on the entire team to make Project Rebirth an unquestionable success. 

“I picked him out myself,” Dr. Erskine shut down any other potential criticisms as they continued to assess the man in front of him-Steve Rogers, Y/N believed he was introduced as.

There was something familiar about the shag of his blonde hair that fell into his clear blue eyes; there was a trustworthiness there at Y/N undoubtedly bought into. Still, he was a scrawny man. His uniform hung loosely on his frame, and his bones pointed out in all sorts of odd directions. He was still handsome, though, with beautiful eyelashes that brushed against his prominent cheekbones. 

Not that his attractiveness mattered when it came to determining whether or not he would be a success for Project Rebirth, or if he would ever even get injected with the prototype serum that Howard Stark had been helping them to develop. “Dr. Y/L/N, you will be running preliminary tests on him. Please, get a full record of his vitals and health history. The usual, as you know,” Dr. Erskine ordered, pushing away from the table. 

Y/N could feel the shocked look that consumed her face, causing Dr. Erskine to give her a look. While she usually never took vitals- that was generally left for the nurses to do- she was fully capable of doing it. 

“Sorry, ma’am,” Steve finally spoke after a moment, “I’m sure you have better things to do.” Y/N simply gave him a half smile in response as she begun measuring things like his weight, height, blood pressure, etc. 

“I’m surprised the army let you in at all,” Y/N commented to herself under her breath, but Steve must have heard her due to their close proximity.

“I tried to enlist so many times,” he chuckled, “I think I just wore them down.” 

“Why did you want to enlist so badly? Like-why didn’t you just decide to help the war effort from the States?” 

“I think it’s important to fight for what you think is important, ma’am,” Steve explained, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts, “And freedom and this country is something I find to be very important.” 

Y/N nodded, soaking in his words. “I think we have a lot to learn from each other, Mr. Rogers.” 

The weak and fragile man had been replaced by a hulking giant, his once baggy uniform straining to contain the muscles they covered. Y/N had been basically ordered to measure his every step to help the doctors determine what about him made him the first successful recipient of the Super Serum, which practically forced the two to become close.

In fact, they were so close that the careless eye may mistake them for lovers. The two were often caught laughing together and having deep talks when they thought no one else was looking. Y/N kept her heart guarded, however. She knew how the war separated people, and refused to let herself get hurt.

Steve continued to try and push through her walls, though, despite her best efforts to hold him at a distance. 

They did kiss once. It was after Steve received his first real military assignment and they were saying goodbye. Y/N felt small as he leaned over her, dipping down to gently press his lips against hers. 

“Maybe under different circumstances, we could have really been something, doll,” he whispered, his eyes soaking in her features. 

Y/N cried when she heard the news that that was the last time she would ever see Captain Steve Rogers.

New York

Present Day

Y/N had spent her entire life living in the shadows. She avoided cameras, people, and anything that might out her as a mutant. While society was gradually becoming more and more accepting of people deemed “gifted”, she didn’t feel ready to accept the responsibility it could put on her shoulders. Groups like the Avengers and different vigilantes like Daredevil put pressure on the gifted to adopt the role of savior, and that was something that Y/N wasn’t ready to commit to. 

The treat of being outed always hung heavy on her, though, especially after the incident with all the aliens in New York. And when she saw Tony Stark sitting on the shabby couch in her tiny Brooklyn apartment, she knew that day had come.

“In conclusion? Welcome to the team,” Stark finished the tour of the infamous Tower. He had explained the bare bones of the Infinity Stone issue, and why Y/N’s particular...skill set may be needed for the protection of the city. “You’ll be able to meet everyone else, um...right now, actually. They’re in the middle of a briefing with the Captain, but I’m sure if you poked your head in, they would be happy to introduce themselves.”

He slapped her on the shoulder encouragingly before stalking off in the opposite direction he indicated the meeting was at. Apparently, Iron Man was above team meetings. Y/N didn’t have much else to do, however, and figured she might as well rip the bandaid on meeting the team of the most elite superheros in the world. 

Her heart fluttered nervously at the idea of seeing iconic heroes such as Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch, but none more so than the thought of Captain America. Ever since she was a little girl, Y/N had been fascinated by the superhero’s story. When he awoke from the ice, it had only heightened her curiosity. 

“...So yeah, Sam and Bucky, you’re going to have to learn to get along for the sake of the team. Natasha’s been getting two migraines a week from listening to your arguing during training- hello?” the masculine voice cut itself off as Y/N slid open the glass door. 

“Hi...I’m the new recruit...oh, yeah-shit,” she fumbled over her introduction. The Captain’s hauntingly blue eyes made it heard for her to think, so speaking was definitely out of the question. “Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”

Steve’s face grew pale at the familiar face staring back at him. He couldn’t exactly place it, but her appearance was reminiscent of someone he knew from his past.

“It wouldn’t be Y/N Y/L/N, would it?” Steve said softly. The more he looked at her, the stronger his attraction to her grew. He would know that face anywhere.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Doll, I believe we have a lot to talk about.”

[lenixsocial]

Touched A Nerve...

Trump To Propose Medicare Cuts

Well, I haven't posted a long-form rant in awhile. But this hits far too close to home to ignore.

Let me say this: Beginning in 2007-08, I began experiencing a set of symptoms that felt like simple muscle fatigue, except that I was utterly depleted some days. I'd work 40-50 hours a week, sometimes more, selling electronics and later mattresses. I loved my job. Even after all those years, and all that crap I dealt with, I loved my job. They were always fair to me, and I gained the respect and admiration of everyone who worked there. I became known as a bit of a problem solver, a troubleshooter.

Everything seemed to be going well, then I started falling asleep on the sales floor, while speaking to customers. This happened ten, perhaps fifteen times, and then I also began to fall over, randomly. It was about this time that during sleep one night, I awoke unable to breathe. Thinking this was temporary, I tried propping myself up and all sorts of things. I finally just sat in a chair and slept. In fact, that was the only position I could breathe in (aside from standing).

Freaking out, my primary care doctor sent me to a specialist who ran two sleep studies and determined that I had obstructive sleep apnea. But that's not all... The apnea was the first diagnosis in a tree of diagnoses. Shortly after this, the specialist took X-rays of my chest and determined I had bilateral diaphragm paralysis (or for those who need a refresher: the muscle that stimulates your lungs to inhale and exhale) does not work on me, anymore. This means I have the appearance outwardly of "seething" or "in discomfort" as I use my pectoral and back muscles to compensate and force out deeper breaths (my normal resting ones are very shallow).

I continued to work. I'm a liberal, but I was brought up in a very conservative family, and in a very conservative area. My father taught me that you don't take welfare unless you need it. I felt I could still work, and didn't need it. Plus, I also figured that it'd take months to be approved, and my wife and I and our financial situation wasn't going to take any kind of hit like that. One person working is not easy to live off of. I continued going to doctors to treat these strange maladies that seemed to creep up overnight.

My specialist decided to send me to a neurologist who in turn sent me to two more, as they all had more experience than the one previous. Finally ending with who I see now. He took blood tests, ran them twice to make sure, sent them to two different labs, and came up with a conclusion. "You have Pompe Disease" he said to me. I had no idea what that was. Some vague inkling only from reading it on WebMD. I came home and did research. It's a form of muscular dystrophy, autosomal and recessive. My parents both gave me the mutated and deleted alleles that combined to give me this.

The disease (or rather the late onset variant I have) has a whole host of things that can occur such as: tongue enlargement, hearing loss, muscle wasting, limb-girdle muscle loss, paralyzed diaphragm, sleep apnea... you get the picture. Less than 60,000 people have it, and it's considered rare and an orphan disease.

But I'm getting ahead of myself here. When I first got diagnosed, I was still working 40+ hours a week, selling beds. By this point my fellow associates were plainly aware of my disability (as was management), and I was given a chair to rest on, and assistance putting stock away, and almost every other task. I felt I could still work. Then came July 31st 2016. A day I will always recall. On that day, like any other I stood at the cash register and my right leg burned like fire, then went numb. Not asleep. Numb. I couldn't feel it at all. It was in the middle of a sales rush and I couldn't move to help people. I managed to grab onto chairs, walls, doorframes -- whatever was around -- and pull myself on one good leg back to the office. I called management and had my direct manager and another one hoist me up and basically carry me out to the car, as my wife had come to get me.

Several weeks of therapy, and a EMP test (shoving needles into your body and shocking you ...yeah it's as fun as it sounds) and applying for short term disability through my employer yielded the recommendation that I be put on Lumizyme, the genetic replacement therapy that is used to treat Pompe. I felt lousy. Pretty much daily. Bored, alone, scared.

I applied for Social Security and got approved and quit my job of 14 years so I could fight this thing. There's no cure for it. It slowly turns every skeletal muscle in your body to sludge. It makes it so you lose the ability to move without aid of a wheelchair, and in a final act of terribleness, it suffocates you or drowns you in your own fluids. It's not pretty.

After three failed tests to get myself into a study (everything would've been free), I was told I needed to begin therapy ASAP. I did this. Lumizyme costs close to $220,000 a year without insurance. You also have to take the therapy for the rest of your life. Bi-Weekly. With my wife's plan it's taken down to $6,400. That's still out of my ability to pay off, so we're getting help for assistance programs. I can only imagine what this would be like for someone WITHOUT insurance.

Anyhow, the treatments are fine. 8 hour sessions sitting around making sure the genetic therapy (dispensed into the arm through an IV) doesn't randomly kill me. Then comes a week of ups and downs. The day after I feel exhausted and depleted, and don't want to exert myself much. The day after that I typically have a lot more energy, then the next four are a steady downturn. All sorts of weird pains and burning flushes, heat flashes, night sweats, cold chills, dizziness, nausea, weakness, migraines. So debilitating that I can't do anything and end up napping in my chair because it's literally all I can do.

Now, I have massive digestion issues. They thought they saw a gallstone but it disappeared and now, after seeing a GI doctor, he determined that a endoscopy would be best to see why my GERD is so bad. Nothing seems to control it despite me being on a fairly rigorous battery of control meds.

Yes, I have so much medical debt I can't keep on top of it. I'll likely have to file bankruptcy to clear all of it. My wife and I manage (if but barely) to live month to month off of SS and her checks from being a cashier 40+ hours a week. If I could go to work; trust me I would. I loved helping people. I loved fixing problems, I loved learning and selling. I loved my coworkers and customers. I miss the daily contact more than anything...but I'm wobbly on my legs, my center of balance is all off, I depend on the cane, but I can't stand without an object to lean into because I can't breathe adequately. I have strings of days where I get disgustingly sick, and some days I spend more time in the bathroom than I do in the living room. I'm a liability. I'm a fall risk, I get random sweats, my shoulders and back muscles ache so bad after washing dishes for ten minutes, there's no way I could stand up for an eight hour shift. It's piercing, gnashing, burning pain. It's muscles dying.

Ask yourself this, GOP: if you lump everyone in as "cheats", that the system is being taken advantage of, then what of us who depend on this? Who have cancer? Who are on death's doorstep? Take a step back and ask yourself: Do I have a right to take away access to affordable healthcare do I have the right to take away money that these people need to survive...to pay their massive debt they've incurred? Not everyone is a real estate magnate and owns eight golf courses and a fucking private island or a yacht.

And I'm not worthless because I'm not in that sect. You need to stop playing games with programs that don't cost you a damn thing in order to find pet projects like a xenophobic border wall or a multi million dollar arms deal. These programs are essential. Not everybody is faking, not everyone is taking advantage of it. And not every disability is the same, or is readily visible.

As for me? I will continue getting the treatments I need to continue living, despite all the side effects they're causing me and hope to all hell that I don't lose the income I'm getting that's keeping me afloat.