#my brain chemistry is changing as we speak

[pansexualandscared]

Hi just read This is How You Lose the Time War because one of the campers at the sleepaway camp i work at handed it to me, looked me dead in the eyes, and said “read this. it’s the best thing i’ve ever read” and how can you not trust a 15 year old who is also holding an N.K. Jemison book with your life.

So I read it in a day and cried about it and now i cannot describe this feeling i have in my chest. I need everyone else to read this now, i want to hug this book to me forever, i don’t ever want to speak to anyone again, “I want to meet you in every place I ever loved. Listen to me. I am your echo. I would rather break the world than lose you.”

[hemo--goblins]

alright you guys were a little early but you can come back now and claim your prize

uh oh i saw the new pathetic meow meow

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

"I remember holding him, and then there was a bright light, and then I felt warm."

[banqanas]

keitokimura_official From the poster shooting 📷

Please watch Makeup with Mud Episode 1 🙋‍♀️

And tomorrow is Episode 2's premier 📺

Instagram

Horinatsu: Amazee 🤣 this'll definitely make internet news

Keito: This is Eve-kun's final form 🙏 (lol) I'd be happy if it makes the news 😂

Alan: So brazen

Keito: I tried doing a full face makeup 💄 I hope you'll take some time to meet Eve 🙏 (lol)

Shogotamu: Damn 🤣 lol

Keito: Thank you 😂 Please check out the drama too, thanks! Lol

Yuuhi: So this is the look you talked about 😳👏

Keito: Yep, yep 😂

Shoot: Too real lol

Keito: 😂

[naniskys]

thanks for the tag @dramalets :) 🫶🫶

Rules: without naming them, post 10 gifs of your favorite TV shows, then tag 10 people.

ngl this was surprisingly hard, i can do top 5 but after that there's plenty of shows that i've enjoyed and i couldn't rlly narrow it down 😅

tagging @xinhua-jun @winnysatang @distant-screaming @cornflowershade @quodekash @spicypussywave @katerinaptrv @dimplesandfierceeyes @blackstar-gazer and anyone else who wants to do it !!! (no pressure :))

[rae-a-licious]

OH MY GOD OH MY FUCKING GOD

YOU WEAR FINE THINGS WELL

HELLOOOOOOOO??!?????

[sophiethewitch1]

why is it that whenever im not paying attention i go straight back to psychologically torturing www!reader

[ourceliumnetwork]

i was going to say i hate when i'm right but actually i enjoy the sensation of being correct even if i don't like the thing i was right about. So I'm very happy to be right so often, actually (especially now that no one in my life is actively trying to gaslight me)

[lesbiangracehanson]

feeling soooo normal + not at all insane about raffi + seven on this tuesday evening 😌

[transexualpirate]

"u don't know my alphabet" is changing my brain chemistry as we speak i will start saying that every time someone wants me to label my sexuality despite me saying i don't fw that

[whirlybirbs]

i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning. 

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!" 

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea. 

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase. 

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked. 

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you. 

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them. 

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck. 

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived. 

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here. 

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table. 

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute. 

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even. 

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close. 

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers. 

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this. 

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time. 

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next. 

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life. 

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks. 

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name. 

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches. 

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up. 

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often. 

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life. 

Hawks brings his visor back down. 

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement. 

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing. 

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings. 

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again. 

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors. 

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy. 

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back. 

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'. 

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five. 

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday. 

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining. 

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster. 

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster. 

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out. 

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back. 

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver. 

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter. 

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants. 

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over. 

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun. 

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm. 

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation. 

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke. 

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated. 

[love-byers]

DM-GATE (a st/byler theory)

if you saw this last night, strap in. because this post is about that

so me and @reo-bylerwagon were talking about how weird mike's dialogue is in s4, specifically in his monologue. it's so....corny. his monologue just doesn't sound like stranger things. mike just doesn't talk like that ever. characters who are overly dramatic and corny are made fun of by other characters. the show just doesn't train you to accept something as corny as mike's monologue, especially from MIKE. mike just isn't that kind of character.

we also pointed this dramatic dialogue between mike and will in the van. will's monologue to mike is very sweet but the dialogue is kind of corny too. will compares mike to a knight in shining armor, leading and inspiring as the heart of the party.

and i, in a moment of completely oblivious genius, said "honestly in the monologue he uses the same voice he does when he's dm"

if you don't know what dm is, it means dungeon master. the dungeon master is the one in dnd who leads the adventure, the organizer.

this is the role mike has in season 1 when they're playing dnd. will is also dm in s3 when they briefly play, right before the byler rain fight. eddie is the only other character we see be dm.

dms have to be eccentric, they have to act. they have to be convincing. they have to lead and guide.

in the painting will gives mike, the party are depicted as their dnd characters. so no one can even say this isn't connected to dnd.

"See how you're leading us? You're guiding the whole party, inspiring us. That's what you do.

See your coat of arms here? It's a heart. I know it's sort of on the nose, but that's what holds this whole party together. Heart. Because, I mean, without heart, we'd all fall apart."

in the monologue when will calls back to their conversation in the van, this is symbolic of mike reverting back to his role as dungeon master, as leader. if mike has to lie in the monologue, of course he would pull from a role he's played where he makes things up and sounds convincing.

@reo-bylerwagon gave the best line ever, "he's being the mike in the painting"

and the craziest part is that's CANON. mike is inspired by what will says, he takes it to heart. he feels more confident. he tries to be the mike in the painting. it should be easy, to speak from his heart to el, but it's not, because he's not in love with her. in the monologue, mike is doing the same thing he does when he's dm. he's performing. he's trying to be convincing. he's trying to guide, to inspire.

also, @reo-bylerwagon said that will pushing mike to giving the monologue is giving "MIKE YOUR ACTION!!" WHICH IS SO FUCKING TRUE😭😭

after this realization i went back and watched the scenes where mike is dming. the VERY FIRST LINE OF DIALOGUE we hear in the show is mike dming. "Something is coming, something hungry for blood." and the second line?

i could never put a finger on why mikes language in the monologue seemed so weird. it's because he's talking like a dm. he's using the dramatic language dms use during a dnd session.

@reo-bylerwagon also pointed out that mike and will are piggybacking off of dnd to save el. everyone in the final fight was piggybacking.

will set the stage, mike executed. 

also, i mentioned the only other character see be dm besides mike and will is eddie.

and what is eddie's big moment in s4?

Master of Puppets.

MASTER. OF PUPPETS. DUNGEON MASTER. DUDE.

and another thing

we've all seen this, but it's not only that mike and will's characters are on the book.

it's a dungeon masters guide.

with mike and will's characters on it.

mike and will. the only party members we've seen be dungeon masters.

COME THE FUCK ON.

AND ANOTHER THING

"Dude, that's the donation box."

"I know, I'll just use yours when I come back. I mean...if we still wanna play."

"Well yeah but...what if you want to join another party?"

"Not possible."

this is a dm i got like 2 years ago that changed my brain chemistry:

this is NOT a reach. everything in st is compared to dnd. the duffers are massive dnd nerds. it is not unbelievable that they'd connect this to dnd as well.

[charliemwrites]

Ur nikto krueger konig meowmeow neighbor au had my hand itching and i cannot resist itchy urges so i hope u like it

sorry i couldn't find any descriptions of Little Guy so i just whipped up a black Scottish fold hihi

and also Shithead Susan chaos-ing Krueger's hood from the game

I love love love everything u write and i hope the passion is there for whatever subject/project u desire and forever (๏ᆺ๏υ)

Oh. Oh my god? My heart 😭😭 thank you thank you thank you for this!!!!! They’re absolutely perfect and I adore your art style. Konig and Nikto having a great time and Krueger out here struggling with Shithead Susan 💕💕💕

This means so fucking much to me oh my god. Seriously you have no idea. It’s changing my brain chemistry as we speak. I could go on and on.

I hope you get the sweetest dreams, the comfiest blankies, and the best drawing inspo ❤️

[girlcowboy1]

I think gen z ultimately lost the war against mental illness when they decided to adapt the older generations rhetoric of "mentally ill ppl who have noticeable symptoms are bad and evil and must be avoided at all costs, they deserve to be alone and die alone" which... most people are not saying that outright, but that IS what they're saying, whether they realize it or not, when they choose to discuss these issues based on personal concepts of morality and punishment instead of approaching it with a mix of empathy and an understanding of science, and how the brain operates.

"Having a mental illness isn't an excuse" is true to a certain extent, but I think a lot of people don't understand that to an extent, it also IS an excuse. The only reason people like to believe that it isn't in any capacity is because mental illness is an invisible disability, and if there's one thing that people love to dismiss the impact of, it's invisible disabilities. Because we can't see what's going on beneath the surface, we struggle to understand the issue, we struggle to empathize with the affected person, whom we may prefer to instead write off as being lazy or malicious, when in reality they are in pain and/or are missing an important tool that helps them function the way they'd like to.

Before getting on medication, I felt and (still sometimes feel) as though I existed behind an invisible glass that separated me from everyone else. I could not understand the point of a lot of mundane things, I couldn't relate to those around me, I felt like my existence was a mistake that should have never happened and the universe was attempting to expunge me by making my life so hard I would kill myself.

And then I got on medication, and suddenly I was able to see things that I had never seen before but had existed in front of me the whole time. I was able to be kinder to people, to be more patient, to talk myself out of bad thoughts I would previously ruminate about for days and weeks. I was able to communicate more coherently, to express my feelings in a way I couldn't before. I wanted to do things again. I wanted to dress up, look nice. I wanted to BE nice.

Of course, these are all still things I struggle with. Like with most tools for disability, medication is helpful in giving me the ability to function in a way that makes life more enjoyable— but it doesn't completely cure the issue. The point is. I tried so hard, time and time again, to change on my own. I tried taking supplements, I tried mindfulness, I tried changing the way I eat, I tried self-help videos/books. But I was a deeply depressed, deeply agitated person whose brain was not wired the way it should have been. So none of what I tried would stick. I would act out in ways I KNEW was wrong, but when you get into a certain state of mind, it's difficult to speak to yourself, to talk yourself down from doing or saying things you know you probably shouldn't. Especially when you feel so isolated from others, and struggle to see the point in anything.

It was only after medication that I made long-term improvements. It was only after my brain chemistry was physically altered in a positive way that my brain could begin to function better, and that my outward behavior improved.

How the anatomy of the brain effects a person is a crucial part of mental health that gets left out of relating discussions too often, I think, and its where I believe gen z unfortunately tends to overlap with gen x and boomers. The brain is an organ like any other, and if it is damaged, or sick, or lacking somewhere in its anatomy.... it will not function properly. The person whose body it inhabits will not function properly.

[xuchiya]

"Fairy tales" || choi san || one-shot? mini-series?

| genre: prince! san. fluff. angst. adventure | mentions: none so far

You pick up a book “Dragon Mountain? San look at this book! … ‘Once upon a time, a king built his own empire with the help of dragons as’ … oh my gosh San, it looks like you!” When you turn around to show him the image of the said prince of the story, you burst out laughing as you see him clad in what seems to be a noble attire. Similar to the one in the book.

“What the hell are you wearing? And …” You look around the library, a witty smile still on your lips as you glance around to look for your other friends before returning back to him, “When did you even have the time to change? We just got here in the library 30 minutes ago.”

A frown on his gentle face. His two eyebrows meet in the middle as his lips are straight: not an ounce of delight evident. “Who are you?”

You stared at him, the chemistry flow of your brain cells changing as your entire sentiment inside had crumbled to a crucial home-sick pain, you look around once again as the place didn’t even change a bit yet your friend in front of you, did.

“What is wrong with you? Stop playing games right now, San—”

“You address me from my title, you are not far from a commoner to call me informally.” You were taken back with his words. Your eyes wandered once again, settling on the quiet, comforting sound of the ceiling fan of the library, to the attempted whispers of the customers as they gossip on the new novel they found until your eyes landed on his outfit, a splendid coat of the finest black velvet, adorned with intricate golden braiding that winds its way across the chest like the threads of destiny itself. The epaulettes, grand and regal, cascade with delicate fringe, signifying his esteemed rank. Draped over his shoulder is a rich scarlet sash, embellished with ornate gold embroidery—a mark of valor and authority. The uniform speaks of a man who carries the weight of his lineage with pride, every detail a testament to the grandeur and honor bestowed upon him by his forebears.

Your eyebrows met in the middle, out of curiosity and confusion, everything from the book or the image of the prince inside the book seem to describe San so well. And it was scaring you. “Stop playing games.”

San took a step forward, making you back away as your heart was beating out of fear, “It’s you should stop playing this game. Just who on earth are you?”

It took a couple more steps before you hit the shelf and he had his hands on each side of your head, trapping you. Your breath hitch as his face inches closer to yours. Your eyes shut and lips curled inside as you look sideways— your throat squealing from the closeness.

“Are you perhaps … a spy?”

TO BE CONTINUE…

[markantonys]

I love the EF5 and Elayne as forsaken in the teaser. Love mats cunty little crop top

mat's cunty little crop top! elayne's high ponybraid! rand's shoulderpiece and evil smirk! egwene's combat boots! nynaeve's braids and dark lipstick! perrin's broody hooded cloak! this is me currently:

any other time in the past that i've said "this altered my brain chemistry" pales in comparison to this. i am truly a changed woman after seeing this shot. i haven't thought about any other shot in the trailer as much as i've thought about this one. shirtless rand tied to a wheel in the first s2 teaser, now this in the first s3 teaser, the marketing team's agenda every promo season is to awaken something in me and i can only thank them for it. once we get the actual full scene of this i will go absolutely feral and that is a promise.

speaking of, i hope the scene is at least a minute or two long and not just a quick 10-second flicker-flicker! they wouldn't have crafted such cunty looks only to waste them on a 10-second flicker-flicker, surely? i'd imagine plenty of moiraine's AUs will just be quick flashes, but an AU where all the kids turned to the dark feels like one that might be worth exploring a smidge longer. i need closeup shots on each of them, i need to hear their evil versions all say at least one evil line! barring that, sharon gilham please post closeup pics of all of them in these costumes i'm begging!

in conclusion, i would like to be transported into this AU to play the role of the gothic horror maiden whom Dark Randlayne kidnaps into their castle to do unspeakable things to.