#past me was at a certain level and now i'm much better so it helps to look back at how you were doing

[cosmojjong]

i find myself to be incredibly satisfied when i get compliments about my korean

[headspace-hotel]

i promised myself "before I go back to school in the fall, something HAS to get better. SIGNIFICANTLY BETTER."

and i made the appointments, had the conversations, I spent hours wringing my brain out googling discussing with friends and family, thinking of SOMETHING, ANYTHING i could approach disability services about now that my previous suggestions had been shot down, and i went there with a list and i was like "hey is there ANY of this stuff you can do to help me" and basically? No

i asked "maybe i could have few extra excused absences so I can rest when i'm overloaded" but the lady was like Well we couldn't do that because you would miss the material in class

I asked "maybe i could have limited group projects so i don't have to be working on something with 4 other people every single day because social interaction is really tiring" she was like Well we can't do it if it would change the course substantially but we can ask that professors tell you if there's going to be lots of group projects so you can drop the class

I asked "maybe i can do in class writing assignments in a separate room so it will be less stressful" she was like well what if we couldn't guarantee that another room would be available where some one could monitor you

This is after the possibility of a partial course load was shot down (i could request it because of 'extenuating circumstances' but there's no guarantee it would be approved, and anyway i don't even know if it would fucking help) and several other things

Going back to school is just weighing on me crushing me. The past two semesters I have been so unrelentingly exhausted, miserable and alone. I hated my classes SO much and spent so much time crying.

All my classes are stupid busy work , just like worksheets that are like "do all these tiny little steps" that micromanage you painfully as if you can't be trusted to have your own independent thoughts" while the professor sits on their phone.

The grades are made up of a thousand tiny bullshit assignments that you have to remember at the right time, if you know the material and even care about learning it, it doesn't even matter.

I took a PLANT science class last semester that I honest to god hated so much it took all the strength in my body to even go to class. I LOATHED it and I got a C in it even though it was highschool level crap and the assignments were so restrictive that they basically punished you for being passionate about anything, I would try to be creative or dig more deeply on things and my classmates (it was always a mother fucking group project because the professor didn't want to fucking lecture, just give us something to kill time like we were fucking preschoolers) hated it because creativity or thinking outside the box would always make the assignment harder for everyone and I would fuck up the grade and it made me feel so ashamed

Same class where the professor said "you can tell this is a peer reviewed journal article because it's written in two columns along the page" like what. What. Huh. What.

There is so little flexibility too like the requirements are so specifically made to "mold" me a certain way. No one sees anything I have already learned or is interested in my potential and ability and passion and keen interest that i HAVE IN ABUNDANCE by the way, and the classes are so boring and passionless

I approached a lady in the arts department about an independent study involving natural plant fibers but she was like "no sorry i only work with seniors and you would have to take these 2 of my other classes"

There is so much more that's stupid and dysfunctional about this college that is too specific to discuss with privacy online, but let it suffice to say that it's a school that wants the reputation of being really challenging and rigorous soooooo bad but it actually just has 1000 inflexible requirements that eliminate everyone's free time and assigns metric tons of tedious busy work, because being "hard" means our academics are "rigorous" right? but the quality of the academics is not good, the classes are not engaging or encouraging you to think more deeply they are just painful.

And no one, fucking no one in these classes is engaging with the work with any energy or passion or enthusiasm, the professors can't get a discussion going, everyone is just staring like a bunch of zombies because their classes r like the equivalent of two full time jobs so of course no one can Engage Deeply with them they have no fucking energy

the food is like eating out of the garbage. they reheat the same pieces of pizza over and over until they're like dried out and leathery like something from a pharaohs tomb. they have bagels kept in a box and they're so stale you can't even bite into them. I got sour, rotten milk from the milk machine so many times my stomach eventually couldn't take drinking milk from there at all.

i hate, hate, hate, HATE that place so much i start crying every time I try to make plans for fall because there is so little fucking joy in my life when i'm there it's like being trapped underground.

[3hks]

How to Avoid "Talking to The Reader"

A lot of people will often tell you to avoid talking to the reader, but why? How? And what does it mean? "Talking to the reader" is a technique used by an author when they want to specifically address the reader directly. Depending on your writing level and style, there could be several drawbacks to using this, such as a sense of informality and sudden awkwardness. However, I'm not saying that you shouldn't talk to the reader, because how you write is ultimately up to you!

But if you're genuinely looking for some tips on how to avoid talking to the reader, then I absolutely got you! As both a frequent reader and writer, I have advice based on experience and knowledge! These simple tips can seriously elevate your writing (especially if you're pretty new), or at the very least, make you aware of certain things and offer new ideas!

Replacing the 'you' with...

A VERY common factor in talking to the reader is using the word 'you' to reach out to your reader (dialogue from characters don't count). Although you should avoid this when you're trying not to talk to the reader, there is something behind it. Majority of the time, we include this word in a story when asking a rhetorical question. This creates a certain effect that reaches out to the reader while making them think, which can't be exactly duplicated.

Okay, so how do we fix this? Well, my advice is to simply replace 'you' with the word 'one'! Let's go a bit into depth, shall we? When dealing with a rhetorical question, the first step is to rephrase and reform the inquiry into a statement that answers what you're asking. Remember that this is a rhetorical question, meaning that there IS technically a right answer that you're looking for! Next, remove the 'you' and slap the 'one' on top of it! The replace-you-with-one method also works when you're not including it in a question, but instead a statement! Let's look into some examples, shall we?

Prompt: A lot of people will often tell you to avoid talking to the reader, but why?

Let's examine this example that I took from the top of this post, shall we? While this sentence is indeed in the format of the question, I am not directly asking you to give me an answer and there isn't really just one right answer. So how do we fix this? Replace 'you' with 'one' and boom! Done!

Fixed: A lot of people will often tell one to avoid talking to the reader, but why?

Alright, how about a much more direct question?

Prompt: The king's way of ruling was incredibly biased and unfair, wouldn't you agree?

For this prompt, we can see that 'you' is in "wouldn't you agree?" so it's pretty clear that we are seeking for an answer from the reader. In this type of context, the answer is almost always "yes," so we will have to take the longer route of rewording the sentence.

Fixed: The king's way of ruling was incredibly biased and unfair, one might argue.

As you can see, the phrase "wouldn't you agree" got altered into "one might argue." Why did I choose this? Well for starters, the sentence is now a statement, not a question, and it does indirectly answer our questions of "wouldn't you agree?" because it distinctly demonstrates that they agree with the opinion that the king's rule was unjust. Now, why did I choose "might argue"? Our previous question may have been rhetorical, but not everyone is going to say "yes, the king was unfair," so adding "might" and "argue" helps include the fact that it is indeed, an opinion!

Now that we have gotten the 'you' part out of our system, let's talk about another thing that can really help you improve on your writing (while avoiding talking to the reader)!

Stop Using...

Stop starting the sentences with "he/she is or has" (including past forms) when describing someone. I can safely say with first-hand experience that repetitive use of the sentence starter can feel a bit unnatural and too straightforward. In other words, you can most definitely do better!

When writing one's attributes, instead of starting with "he is" or "she is," try starting out with a possessive form of the pronoun, such as "his" or "her"! After that, it'll work itself out; let's look at an example to clarify!

Prompt: She had long, luscious, brown hair that fell over her shoulders in waves.

Fixed: Her long, luscious, brown hair fell over her shoulder in waves.

Simple, right? There may seem to be hardly any change, but this can seriously improve your writing when used correctly! Of course, continuous use of "his," "her," or "their" will also sound repetitive, but it's a good place to start! As experience follows, you'll get the hang of creating more varied sentence styles! Let's look at an example!

Prompt: He was new to the school. He didn't know how to interact with those his age because he was homeschooled his whole life. He was nervous even when thinking about his classmates and didn't know how he was going to survive.

Does it sound choppy? Too direct? Let's fix that!

Fixed: He was new to the school. Having been homeschooled his whole life, he struggled to interact with those his age, and even thinking about his classmates made him anxious. He had no idea on how he was going to survive.

Look at the second sentence; that's the most major change. As I combined a few different parts of the other sentences and rearranged them, it should seem much smoother now!

Be creative with how to form your sentences--that's all there really is to it! Experience will be your biggest guide and best friend when it comes to this!

Did this help? Keep in mind that my advice won't work with every sentence because a lot of it mainly depends on context! Happy Easter Sunday!

Happy writing~

3hks :)

[lost-in-lamentation]

human world headcanons

a/n: i just know half of the brothers would break into the human world under the excuse of seeing their favourite human, only to be distracted 9 seconds later. and so; human world shenanigans.

═  ˎˊ˗

lucifer.

here's one that doesn't stray from his goal.

lucifer heads straight to your house (without warning).

but he forgets that you have work today; he also does not have the key to your front door.

your neighbours start to wonder if the strange man who has been sitting on your doorstep is lost.

one kind-hearted neighbour sends you a picture of the lonely demon on your porch, along with the message "he's been there for hours."

a fit of laughter and a 20 minute drive later, you embrace lucifer tightly.

"sorry, sorry," you manage to giggle out as he tries to scold you for not having your d.d.d. on you.

lucifer finally relents the harsh glare when you tell him you'll cook a special dinner for him.

═  ˎˊ˗

mammon.

he's distracted in all the right ways.

first, he grabs you a drink from your favourite human world café.

mammon will then head to the grocery store and look for your favourite snacks.

he's so focused on the task at hand that he doesn't notice you side eyeing him from two feet away.

when he finally does notice, he turns on his heel and ducks his head, trying to escape your gaze.

it's too late now, though; you've already got a hand on the edge of his jacket, yanking him towards you.

"mammon. does anyone know you're up here?"

"... you do."

"not good enough!"

═  ˎˊ˗

leviathan.

see, he really wishes he could be distracted.

after all, the human world has so many anime and manga goods stores that he wants to visit.

but being the shut-in he is, he'd rather wait inside your house until you have time to go out.

unlike a certain brother, he remembers the key to your door (mainly because he doesn't want to be stuck waiting outside).

he does also shoot you a quick text before he enters, just in case you're inside and he freaks you out, or in case you're out of the house.

you enjoy having levi over; he doesn't drag you back outside as soon as you've got one foot through the doorway.

but perhaps the real problem is getting him back out.

because, why leave when he can game without his brothers interrupting his boss level speed run?

═  ˎˊ˗

satan.

oh lawd he's NOT coming.

he saw a cat on the road; as far as you know, he's gone forever.

satan only stops when he sees a street library box, curiosity getting the better of him.

it's maybe a few hours later that he remembers to text you of his arrival in your realm.

you call him almost immediately, asking where he is, only for the blonde to respond "i'm not quite sure myself. i followed a cat here."

your eyebrow twitches, and you almost want to give satan a taste of his own wrathful medicine.

"if it helps, the cat was a tortoiseshell."

"how is that supposed to help?!"

═  ˎˊ˗

asmodeus.

luck is on his side today, as his walk to your place takes him right past the shopping district.

it may have also taken him inside a few stores.

meanwhile, you lounge around at home, blissfully unaware.

that is, until lucifer calls you with much urgency in his voice, saying "MC, please tell me asmodeus is with you."

your neighbours can hear you screaming from the inside of your car as you pull out of your driveway.

a part of you is grateful that it's asmodeus at the mall; although he spends, he's not quite as bad as his older brother.

when you finally find the demon in the shopping center, you grab hold of his scarf, dragging him and his bags towards your car.

"MC, wait! i haven't bought a good lip tint for you yet!"

═  ˎˊ˗

beelzebub.

unlike most of his brothers, beel makes it his priority to call you first thing upon arrival.

his second priority is to find the shop where that delicious smell is coming from.

"beel, do NOT move from where you are, or i swear i will call lucifer and have him drag you back to hell himself."

you're glad the shopping and food square is walking (sprinting) distance from your place.

in your panicked rush, you leave your front door wide open, leaving your neighbours to wonder what you're up to this time.

it's a good thing the avatar of gluttony is so tall; you find his orange head standing close to the decorative water fountain in the middle of the square.

"oh, MC. you must be hungry after running like that."

you can only plant your hands on your knees while catching your breath, and beel waits patiently for your approval to go grab a snack.

═  ˎˊ˗

belphegor.

does not call or text you when he heads up to the human world.

you're most likely to come home to him already knocked out cold on your couch.

belphie is a quiet sleeper, so it takes you a few minutes to actually realize that he's there.

when you do realize that he's there, you unwillingly release a yelp, waking up the sloth demon.

belphie's expression shifts from a glare to a smile when he remembers he's in your house and not the house of lamentation.

"welcome home," he mumbles sleepily, stretching his limbs out one by one.

"belphie, how many times do i have to tell you to text me before you come over?"

he shrugs in response, instead dragging you onto the couch for a well deserved nap with him.

a/n: praying that my demon bro bias does not glare anyone in the face with these headcanons. i'm soft for all of them, i swear.

[slash-me-please]

HIHIHI I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM AND I SAW THAT YOUR WILLING TO WRITE FOR AMANDA YOUNG BUT IF YOU DONT FEEL LIKE IT THATS COMPLETELY OKAY ALSO!!

Can you do jealous Amanda x Fem reader? Somewhere around reader and Amanda having a complicated relationship and reader is an apprentice. Another apprentice flirts around with reader and Amanda doesn’t like it at all :$ Also some NSFW but if your not in the mood for it you don’t have to add it!

I hope you have an amazing day 😋😊

I love writing for Amanda!!!! I'm so happy to be getting more fem requests because I am a gay mf. Anyways on with the story.

-In the event that Michael Marks survived, he has became an apprentice. Michael Marks. Yknow, the key in the eyeball guy. So, let's begin.

A Deeper Understanding

Warnings: Literally nobody getting along, Jealous!Amanda, Cursing, Threatening, Fingering, Domish!Amanda, Getting Caught

John Kramer had collected quite the assortment of a team. He hoped at least one of you would continue his legacy perfectly. He'd make sure before he died that he'd live on through the lot of you. You were all currently at the workshop, bullshitting about random tests and other people you were interested in "helping". There was about four of you there, Dr. Gordon couldn't make it, like usual. Michael Marks had been your second choice, Gordon has always been your first.

His eyes traveled down your body, a look that made you feel a certain type of way, not a good way. He was your partner though, so you gave him the benefit of the doubt. "I'm glad everyone is here," John smiled a thin smile, Jill stood across from him, eyes trained on his every move. You knew that it'd been hard on her since his diagnosis. "I need your help with the scalping seat, I'm not sure it'll get done on time." He took a pause, "I've had some other things to tend to, my apologies."

He hadn't been looking at you, you weren't the mechanic of the group. John looked to you for ideas for traps. You had a knack at creating a symbolic test, one which would change the looks of the masses. Michael stepped forwards, eyes lingering on you for too long for someone who had just needed to build a trap. "I used to work as a car technician before Homeward Bound," He said, bending down and looking through the gears. "Unless Hoffman can do better." Hoffman wasn't much for Michael, he stayed silent.

"Nobody wants you to touch anything, you hardly beat your test. I don't know why John even wants you here because you're obviously not even serious about him." Amanda stood from her spot near John, she walked forwards and towered over Michael- only for Michael to size her up. "What are you even talking about?" He barked, his chest puffing. "Amanda calm down, we need to finish this trap. Brenda's test is what matters." John corrected her, his composure was always impenetrable. "No John! Have you seen this guy? He's been eye-fucking Y/N since we got here!"

Amanda's fists clenched as she yelled back at John. She seemed ready to blow a fuse, and you were thankful for it. "As far as I am concerned, He has not said anything to Y/N that has made her uncomfortable." "But-" "No, we'll deal with him later, we have to focus on the contraption now, we'll deal with him later. I need you to act level-headed if you're going to carry out my legacy." Amanda huffed, speeding past the group and into the hallway. "Amanda!" You yelled after her, jumping down from the table and following after her.

You found yourself in a grimy hallway, off to the side was an opening to what you presumed was where Amanda had went off to. You stepped forward, watching as the curtains to the archway swayed back and forth. "Amanda?" You called, and she opened the swaying curtains as you stood in front of them. "Finally got enough of Mr. Fuck-me eyes?" You shook your head. "We're not... doing anything." She nodded, stepping away to move back to a decaying workstation. You saw she had her reverse bear trap on the table, she seemed to be fixing something wrong with it.

"What are you doing to it?" You wondered, she glanced over at you for a moment. "John gave it to me to fix, fucking Hoffman took it somewhere and it broke." She gulped. "I hate this thing, but I'm about finished." Amanda was grumbling as she fixed her trap, she seemed elsewhere and you could tell that this was a coping mechanism for her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, and with a sigh she sneered. "I just don't understand why Michael is even here, he hardly completed his test and he's an asshole y'know?" Her voice elevated, and she turned towards you. "He's awful and I just don't understand why he can't leave you alone!" Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening as she stared right at you. "Uh-" But you cut her off, hands coming up to hold her face. It happened to turn out that she would be the one to press forward and kiss you. She only let it escalate from there when her hand moved to reach under your shirt and pull you flush against her chest.

Her nails dug into the plush of your stomach skin when she picked you up and placed you on the workbench, shoving the bear trap off to the side. Amanda placed kisses on your collarbone as you worked to pull your shirt off, and in the heat of the moment she found herself dizzy with lust. She had been dreaming about this moment since you joined the group, and she thought she might've entered her dreamworld when you finally got your shirt off. "You're fucking perfect," She mumbled, the androgynous tang of her voice flowed through your core and straight between your legs. You opened them right up.

Amanda leaned forward, tongue landing flat on your nipple and sucking at it until it pressed hard against the pad of her tongue. With her left hand, she groped you passionately, and she praised how you fit in her hand perfectly. You had leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the top of her head as she pushed your skirt up and over your ass, eager to get where she had wanted to touch most. You blessed her with it, gripping the edge of rotten wood when she hooked her long fingers inside your heat. "Shit..." She mumbled, her left hand dropping your tit to push you back by the stomach. You stumbled back against the wood with a whine, biting onto your left hand as the other gripped her wrist.

Amanda watched with an intense gaze as you moaned into your hand, she was more than interested, her left hand moving to rub circles on your clit as she fingered you. Your hips pushed against her fingers, desperate to feel more of her as she pleasured you- you knew her thoughts of Michael Marks were gone by now, her gaze enraptured by the way your cunt sucked her in. She felt herself becoming devoted as she listened to the gasps and whimpers you released of her name- you felt the same.

She began to kiss your hips as your legs shook around her fingers and your whines became more noticeable. Amanda gathered she had to be doing something right, her ego inflating as you rode her hand. "You're doing so well Y/N," She whispered, the fingers on your clit speeding up. You cried out, "I'm so close..." yelping when she pushed her fingers deeper and shushed you. You felt your insides clench and twitch, legs spreading wider as you held her wrist against your sex- whining out a flurry of "Thank yous," While you finished on her hand.

Finally, you leaned back down, huffing against your hand. You reached out to maybe grab her, and she reached to pull her shirt off. Unluckily, she didn't make it far when you heard Michael open the curtains, halfway through his sentence. "I'm sorry Amanda, I didn't- oh!" His eyes landed on you, and you yelped, flailing to cover your body as he stared.

Amanda's lip twitched in annoyance, pulling your skirt down with a little bit of attitude. You knew it wasn't directed at you though. "If you do not get the fuck out of my office, I will literally blow your brains out Michael."

And he turned around, scurrying down the hallway. Amanda turned back to you, giving you a happy kiss on the lips. "Maybe we can arrange a date this week?"

[danieyells]

Also like if you're cool with it can you tell me to build the cards and stuff? I'm still confused with it :'(

UH! I don't really know how to build cards either lmao. I just push the buttons when they get red blips U: BUT I WILL TRY AND EXPLAIN WHAT I CAN

i was actually writing this on mobile and then i accidentally closed tumblr when it was like 87% done so MAYBE THIS WILL BE WORSE THAN INITIALLY INTENDED I DON'T KNOW. Initially I was explaining like. A bunch of unnecessary stuff about where you get certain upgrade materials so I think this'll be better and marginally more concise because I feel like there's not actually that much to explain. It's very much just "make number go up".

So from what I've been told it's better to focus your efforts on a single SSR if you have one than trying to even things out, but since you're not only going into battle with your singular SSR I try and keep other units at a minimum of level 50 and a Level 40 warding card(preferably the one it gets a link bonus with!) with 50 Potency Grade. THIS MAY OR MAY NOT BE ADVISABLE but it's how I do things personally. And then I have my SSR(s) which I focus on--one SSR gets most everything and once I have to wait to limit break it, I start giving resources to the next one down(or the next SR down.)

Now since just about every stat relies on different items to boost it up(coins obviously notwithstanding but you can very easily gain more coins) you don't really have to ration anything--just focus on boosting your highest ranked unit.

Like I said I just hit the button when the red blip pops up, but you may have noticed that when it comes to equipment the game prioritizes higher levels to higher rankings. Which. . . .

not very helpful, as it turns out! Turns out higher ranked units(SSR-SR-R-A-B-C-D-E, from highest to lowest) are generally a little better even at slightly lower levels! Because some equipment doesn't boost attributes(multiple stats) at all!!!

Higher rank = higher attribute boost. Higher level = higher battle stat boost.

see how Alan's overall power is higher with the level 95 C perfume than the level 100 E perfume? The game automatically gave him the E. . .even though it was weaker and both were available. The game checks for rarity over their level, so you may want to manually choose cards based on their stats as opposed to choosing the auto-equip button!

Also of note, sometimes a fully awakened R is stronger than an unawakened SR of the same level. . .if you have to wait to limit break your SRs, check out how your Rs are doing! They can be pretty strong too! You can always take stronger equipment and gems and such away from them for the higher rarity unit when you're ready.

@tokyo-debunker-memes made a pretty good guide to gems here and you can refer to that for any of your gem questions since I think they did a good job explaining and summarizing things! (I will say, gems go past level 9, they just can only be purchased at a base level of 9.)

The best equipment(SSR, SR, and R) can be made at Mr. Mo's Goldmine using using gold, silver, and copper materials you get there. You only have a chance get gold if you do multiple pulls there over the course of a week(the milestone resets every 7 days or so. . .or every time there's a new gacha I've noticed), so I wouldn't think too hard about SSR equipment. That's for whales. It's literally designed so that you have to use gems to even get a chance at gold material to make SSR equipment. And you need so much of the stuff just to make one it's just not worth it monetarily unless you've got insane disposable income haha.

I would focus only on the level 100s of the Mr Mo equipment(the Red Queen set and the Lotus set. The Stardust set if you wanna whale real hard.) If you get lucky enough to get enough silver and copper material you can make them, and they're stronger than anything you'll find doing Investigations or that they'll find on campus after investigations--that I'm aware of, unless they start giving out SRs and SSRs at higher level investigations which I doubt.

R, SR, and SSR equipment can be trained and given gems, just like warding cards, and raising their Special Attributes will provide additional percentage boosts to the unit they're equipped to(Necklaces, Rings, and Earrings raise HP percentage; Perfumes raise Physical Attack and Physical Defense percentages; Brooches raise Special Attack and Special Defense percentages. Warding Cards raise Attack percentage.) Try and focus on raising the Special Attributes related to the unit's attack style(noted in the 'Skills' window on the unit page.) That is to say, raise the Special Attibutes for Perfumes for Physical attackers and Brooches for special attackers so that they'll have higher attack power and do more damage. Of course, both are also important for their defensive value, and HP is also very important!

R, SR, and SSR equipments also have 'badges' which detonate they're part of a set. The more of that set you have, along with a warding card with the same badge, the higher bonus(indicated in the upper left of the unit page) you get for the character it's equipped to! The only way to change a Warding Card's badge is by leveling it up so. . .don't worry too hard about it, because moonlight paint is a pain in the ass to get.

Guardian spirits similarly should be distributed based on the ideal stats that unit should have raised. I only use SSR guardian spirits and feed any lower ranking ones to them to raise their levels. If you get a guardian spirit of the same level with stars, it's better to use and level up that one! It gives a higher percentage boost!

Generally you legit just have to look at the numbers and percentages and choose whatever's higher overall I think. Higher percentages are usually better, I think, since those will scale up with any increasing stats' individual numbers. Not that equipment have percentages, but I mean in terms of figuring out what to upgrade in general. Again, it's very much 'make number go up' from what i can tell. I usually focus on level since it boosts all the unit's battle stats by a percentage, but since everything needs different materials to level up anyway it's fine to just use whatever you get wherever you can, or save up to be able to boost your strongest units.

I DUNNO IF THAT HELPED ANY. I CAN TRY AND EXPLAIN SOMETHING MORE SPECIFIC IF NEED BE?

[stil-lindigo]

okay so, not entirely sure what the last anon was on about (and it very well could be a troll just trying to bait. they really should have at least brought up what they meant if they wanted to appear in good faith), but it may be in relation to "drink up" and how it attracted terf attention on twitter? (which I know you addressed btw, so I hope this doesn't come across as an attack or anything)

personally, I think the phrase "our only natural predator" might have appealed to terf rhetoric just a little (but that's my opinion - I very well could be 100% wrong). I have my own personal feelings on the use of "natural" in the phrase (men don't naturally prey on women like animal predators do their prey - if anything, it's unnatural, deliberately chosen behavior - and it reminds me of the excuse that "it's just naturally how men are," like "boys will be boys." HOWEVER, I see how that phrasing ties into the "lioness/women turning it around and preying on the predator" theme, so honestly it works well there), but aside from all that, I can also see why it might've attracted terfs: bc they very often view and frame trans women as male predators to cis women. I know that's definitely not how you intended it though!!

and this also isn't meant as a nitpick to your work, so my apologies if that's how it comes across. I really like your art and your writing (and "drink up" has a very cool theme)! it's just that I can see how terfs might've interpreted it a certain way. it's not your fault that they viewed it like that though, and you've made it very clear you're NOT down with trans exclusionary BS. so that's literally the only thing I could see anon complaining about tbh, assuming they're not just being a troll. also I'm sorry for the super long message (I have an issue w/ typing too much smh). I just thought I'd share my thoughts on it in case it's at all helpful, but also this might just be annoying to read instead, so honestly feel free to just discard it if you prefer!

It’s not annoying at all anon, and I appreciate you taking the time to send this in. The comic you’re talking about is one I think back on with a lot of regret. It was made in a furious haze after a big time female streamer revealed that she was being mentally abused for years by her husband, where he would waste her hard earned money, threaten her dogs and her livelihood and overall be a monster to the woman who was their primary breadwinner. The reaction online to this information by her largely male audience was so genuinely vile and violently misogynistic that I made the comic, without thinking broadly about the implications you’ve already pointed out. In reality, the comic was meant to talk about how all women (cis and trans) suffer under the patriarchy and how the label of womanhood can often be an open call for baseless derision, dehumanisation and entitlement at many levels.

TERFS quickly co-opted the comic, and I’ll always regret ever giving them an opportunity to feel empowered and validated by my art, but I’ve learned from the experience overall to do better by my trans siblings. Thank you for engaging in good faith - I hope my behaviour now and in the future can make up for past mis-steps.

[theminecraftbee]

more seriously i'm realizing the thing that makes it hard to go back to vanilla minecraft for me is that vault hunters, and then modded as a whole, is way less... self-guided than vanilla. like, okay, no, you can play modded in a very free, self-guided way, like if you just install create and go ham the progression is very similar to vanilla. but in something like vault hunters or another modpack, there are often quest systems that give you concrete goals as you go that help like... scaffold what you're doing. it makes it easier for my brain to latch on to. but it's not just that; it's ALSO that, by the nature of certain things in modded, i have ways to set my own progression goals WELL PAST the 'endgame' of minecraft that aren't just 'build a really big thing', and give me a sense of being Better and More Efficient now.

like, okay. in my current vault hunters playthrough i am level 90. i have been playing since like, september i think? normally by now in vanilla i've hit endgame and don't really need anything else and then i quit. but in vault hunters, even though i've very reached endgame there, i have things i can do that will give me a real sense of Actual Progression. on the vault hunters end, my Actual Progression goal is to make my divine paradox vault as good as possible and unlock some of the god armor transmogs. on the modded end, i am DEEP in mekanism and can go 'well, if i make a fusion reactor i can make antimatter, which will make me REALLY post-scarcity, but also means i'll be generating power that doesn't risk exploding and is more effective than my current fission reactor is. maybe i'll quintuple ores while i'm at it.'

and yeah, those are ALSO an unnecessary self-directed goals! they're basically the equivalent of 'i should build a megabase' in terms of absurd resource grind and being unnecessary! but at the end i get something Tangible that makes me Better At Game, which makes it feel like i'm accomplishing something a little better than giant builds tend to for me. like, at the end of my god altar arbitrary goal, i get something. at the end of my mekanism arbitrary goal, i get something. but ALSO i get something at every grindy step along the way, too, and at least FOR ME, modded is better than vanilla at giving me rewards for my progress?

and this isn't me saying there SHOULD be more 'rewards' for progress in vanilla minecraft; part of the whole POINT of minecraft is that it's open-ended and self-driven. it's just that that's also the reason that the moment i make it to the end in one of my minecraft playthroughs i'm like. well i could grind for netherite but i don't like building that much so i guess it's time to pack it up and do something else instead. for someone else, having so many concrete goals would feel railroady and break the 'progression', or lack thereof, of vanilla minecraft! i get that.

they're different playstyles and it makes perfect sense why someone might prefer one to the other is what i'm saying, but like, if you've only ever tried to play modded in packs WITHOUT a quest or progression system to help guide you, let this be me saying "no i actually think that's an integral part of the first time playing modded experience in order to GET why people like modded", yeah?

[marisaeon]

Sweet

a sweet moment between Leon, Ada, and their daughter. (I named her Alicia! A-li-cia What do you think? :))

●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●

A cut on his left cheek. The results of a fight he broke up earlier... While he was out, he saw two men fighting in the store. Deciding to he the hero and seperate them, he ended up getting a few blows himself. But his daughter doesn't need to know that.

Leon decided he'd enter the house quietly, taking the walk of shame to the bathroom and tending to his wounds. Avoiding the questions of his wife or child.

But, his plans are immediately ruined when he walked past the kitchen to be immediately spotted by Ada.

"Look who's home, Alicia." She smiled at her daughter and motioned with her head towards Leon, who was behind the little girl.

Alicia turned, looking at him with a big toothy grin. "Daddy!" She screamed, jumping down from the counter and running over to him.

Leon picked her up, taking her in for an embrace. He purposefully laid her head on his shoulder, so she wouldn't see his face closely.

"Hey, sweetie. Did you have fun today?"

"Yup, tons of fun!" Alicia wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

He watched nervously as Ada got closer to him, obviously inspecting face. His cheek bleeding, and dirt rubbing into certain areas.

"...Oh yeah? What'd you do?" Leon continued to talk, looking at the woman in front of him clearly.

Ada spoke now, "We played doctor... Wanna show him what you learned?"

The little girl gasped, raising up her head to look at her mother. "Yeah!"

"Go get the bandaids and we'll show him, okay?"

Alicia nodded, breaking free from her father's hands as he sets her down on her feet. She runs off to the bathroom, trying to find her bandaids.

Ada crossed her arms, tilting her head ever so slightly to look him in the eyes.

"What happened to you?"

"Two drunkies fighting over nonsense. I guess they didn't like me much."

She reached to touch his cheek, lightly grazing over some dirt that clung to it. "I told you already, stop breaking up fights for strangers like this. You'll get seriously hurt one day... You know Alicia wouldn't like that." Ada sighed. "I wouldn't either."

He frowned. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Before she could say anything else, their daughter came back with her bandaids. They were in a pinkish box, with cartoon animals on it.

"Look, hun! Daddy's got a cut on his left cheek. You gotta patch it up." Ada exaggerated it, to make it more like a game.

The little girl looked determined as she ran over with the opened box, reaching for her father's face. Leon bent down, coming to her level as she struggles to peel off the paper back of the plaster. This gave him a clear view on what was about to go on his face. A pink and splashes of purple backdrop with a bunny on it. He has to say... Not really his style. But he can't complain, he's getting taken care of by his little girl.

"Here, let me open it." He offered.

"No! I can do it." Alicia stubbornly snapped back.

She got it open right in that moment, and gently stuck it onto his cheek. She announced that she was all done, and Ada couldn't help but laugh at the event in front of her. It was sweet, seeing a heart warming thing like this. Compared to the nights where Ada would stitch up his wounds, another scar to be had on his back and arms.

Leon smiled at his daughter. "Thank you, sweetie. I feel better already." He touched the bandaid, smoothing it down on his cut.

A little later, he went to go properly patch himself up in the mirror when he finally saw the plaster on his face. It stands out so much, and yet he loved it. He'd have to take it off to clean the wound.. Leon peeled off the bandaid, taking alcohol and pressing it into his cut. He dried it off, and put the plaster by on. To his surprise, it still stuck to his face. Leon smiled, it really was special.

●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●

A little something while I finish up the 3rd chapter of "When I saw you"!!!

My aeon daughter finally has a name now, if you've been here a while you'll know I'd always just call her "little girl."

I had a few suggestions before, and I'm grateful for that! But I decided on this :D

Hope you enjoy this!! Cya with that 3rd chapter soon (.◜◡◝)

[skayafair]

I keep coming back to these lines because they're just this all-encompassing.

I'm amazed at how HG managed to create a character so relatable for so many minorities with seemingly no intention to whatsoever.

(a personal story under the more)

This is sort of personal, but. For the past ten years or so I've been untangling decades of trauma and broken coping mechanisms, misconceptions about myself and the world around, blindly stumbling on the way to my true self, the one that feels right. The last three or four years were full of revelations - I discovered I have ADHD, am very likely autistic, certainly agender, greyro and ace, which explained SO MUCH and made me feel infinitely better compared to how it was before, gave some clarity about how to live this life. I found the way I want to dress to look like myself despite never seeing the reflection in the mirror as "me" (and it was the way I always wanted to but had no means for that). And today my body of all things (my connection to which is very flimsy at best) brought an early birthday present: my whole life I wished my hair was wavy instead of straight, and today it turned out IT IS. Always has been, I just didn't know how to hadle it properly. Just another detail of how this being was supposed to be from the very beginning but never knew, always going the wrong way, fell into its rightful place.

I used to feel like an emply space while growing. No face, no one inside, no certain shape. Just emptiness, an observer following some vague average outline, searching for itself in vain, with occasional flashes of hot anger from the core personality hidden deep inside, of which I didn't know back then. One event back when I was 18 shattered me to the very core, demolishing even the mask that existed instead of me all this time and sending me to a new journey of self-discovery.

So feeling each little piece falling into place now feels like pulling a shattered being back together, repositioning, reassembling the pieces the way they were supposed to be to begin with, but into a totally new order at the same time.

I am trying to become the thing I should've been a long time ago.

And it doesn't come without pain indeed.

But every little win feels so great.

My chosen name is a promise to myself, a more certain shape, the person I'm trying to become, helping to move forward.

I started listening to Malevolent in fall of 2022 and it helped me so much since then. I can't even place my finger on how exactly, it was just so relatable on so many levels that became validating and encouraging? In any case, I'm grateful for John to no end. There's absolutely no question in why he became so important to so many people.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Anchors

liam dunbar x theo raeken

summary: the end of the war brought a slew of changes to the lives of those left in beacon hills. unfortunately for liam, that includes taking his medication again, since telling his mom about the supernatural didn't go exactly as planned. now, he battles a retake of his senior year, the side effects of his medication, and a desire to keep the good things he has in his life, all while trying to keep himself afloat.

tags: angst & feels, hurt / comfort, post-war, implied / referenced s3lf h4rm, mild blood, dread doctors mentioned, protective!theo, theo lives with the dunbar-geyer family & he also works in the hospital bc i can see it, forehead kisses (so many), mentions of past abuse, relapsing, beowulf references, found family, touchy-feely

word count: 7.4k

a/n: So a big chunk of this is about Theo's past with the doctors, and growing up with them, and I'm pretty sure I got most of my facts right, but if something's totally off-canon, my bad. Season 5 is honestly quite confusing to me, and I'm trying to rewatch it to understand better. Anyway, I also did a lot of research on antipsychotics, because that's what Liam said he used to take. I struggled a bit, because a lot of the medications used to help IED also reduce sh urges, but we know Liam struggled with that throughout the show. Ugh, I love him so much. Comfort character <3 I want to give him a hug. Third thing, I haven't read Beowulf in like, six years, so all of my references are from SparkNotes, Quizlet, and a vague, vague, memory of it from the last time I touched a copy of it.

Also, greatest apologies for being absent / not posting for just about an entire month. I'm trying to reclaim my life; I've lost myself a bit this year. I did put in a three weeks' notice for my job, so I hope I can be active again soon.

One last thing, I'm still writing for Kai, I just have had this idea lodged in my brain for a while. I have a lot of stuff to write for a lot of different characters, i just have to get the gears turning again. ily all <3

“I hope loving me isn’t the hardest thing you’ve had to do.”

It’s spoken out in a whisper, but is heard loudly. It rings like a bell in the ears, and makes Theo sigh stressedly before he brushes his hands on his pants. “Clearly you don’t remember the things I’ve been through,” he starts. 

“I’m serious. It hasn’t- I haven’t been easy lately. You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“I’m here by choice.” Theo rinses the rag under warm water, then crouches back down to Liam’s level. He takes each finger gently, easing the blood out from underneath his fingernails. “I never had a say in anything that happened in my past, but I have a choice here, with you, and I choose to be with you.”

“Aren’t I making your life harder? You should be out in the world, exploring things you’ve never seen or done. Not stuck in Beacon Hills, babysitting me half the time.”

“I’m not babysitting you, I’m dating you. And I’ve chosen to stay here regardless; I’ve learned I like it here. I like my job, and your parents, and you, and even though I could go out, do something else - and still date you - I don’t want to.”

Part of Liam’s brain knows he’s being ridiculous. Theo’s told him a thousand times how much happier he is now. He does like his job, and he does love Liam and his parents, but he can’t help the insecure feeling that he’s holding him back. “But-”

“And you’re not hard to love. You never are.” He pauses, but when Liam opens his mouth for what he’s certain is a rebuttal, he continues. “Now, the doctors,” he chuckles, ���they were hard to love. When they tried to act parental, it was awful. But then I felt guilty for not seeing them that way, because as much as they were killing me, they were also keeping me alive.” Theo tries to bring his attention to the scientists that Liam’s so keenly interested in. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the distraction works, but Theo can tell from the frown on his face that this time is part of the one percent. 

“I’m no better than them; I’m hurting you now.”

The smell of fear still lingers in the air, mixed with fresh blood and the undistinguishable scent of pain. Theo had all but kicked down the door ten minutes ago, leaving it unable to be locked until it’s fixed, but he much prefers it that way. 

“You’re nothing like them. Are you forgetting you saved me from death? From hell? You brought me back, and we fought for each other, almost died for each other, and survived a war thanks to the unspoken trust that that act gave us? I love you, Liam. My stubborn heart can effortlessly say that, because I know you aren’t going to hurt me. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I’ve never cared for anyone since Tara.”

Liam’s heart softens. The stone walls he tries to put up crumble down into dust. Theo shares so comfortably because Liam’s given him the time, and space, and love to do so. He hasn’t forced or rushed him; he makes him feel safe, and listens, and speaks, reassuringly, when Theo needs it. He loves him wholeheartedly, and makes sure he knows it. 

A deep sigh makes Liam slump forward, posture horrible, but neither comment on it. He watches as Theo cleans the last of the drying blood from his nails and arms. The slowly healing wounds pick up their pace with his care, and eventually, not even scars are left. 

“Sometimes I wish the scars would stay,” he mutters. “I think it would help me do it less.”

Theo understands. But at the same time, he knows it’s better that they heal. “I think your mom would catch on if they did,” he reminds gently. 

Liam’s eye twitches. The painful reminder seems to do the trick. “Can I see yours?”

Without question, Theo lifts his shirt, revealing the small mark under his heart that never fully healed. Liam runs his fingers along it immediately, feeling the bump of raised skin permanently changed from an invasive surgery he had as a child. The doctors, he said, promised it would heal. It never did. 

Theo watches Liam suck in a breath as he trails his fingers down his body, causing him to drop his shirt and chuckle. “You just wanted me to take my shirt off.”

A blush rises to the younger boy’s face. Truly, he did want to see the scar, but it’s easy to get distracted by his boyfriend’s beautiful features. “No-”

He laughs. “Sure-”

“No, I’m serious!” He puts his pointer finger on the scar again, this time over his shirt. The smile from his blush is gone from his face, the somber mood returning to the room. “Thank you, Theo.”

“You aren’t hard to love.”

“I just feel like a burden sometimes.”

“And I love being the one to remind you that you’re not.” Theo kisses his fingertips individually. Liam’s so full of love he might explode. He sighs, eyes fluttering.

“I’m tired.”

“I know you are.”

“Can we lay down?”

“Of course.”

Theo tucks Liam into his bed and changes into something more comfortable before joining him. As soon as they returned from work, Dr. Geyer fell into bed, exhausted from the day. Jenna won’t be back for another couple hours. They have time for a nap. 

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

That evening, when Theo hears the crackling sound of food cooking on the stove, he untangles himself from Liam’s sleepy grasp and tiptoes downstairs. Jenna smiles at him as he joins her in the kitchen.

“Hi, sweetheart, how was work today?”

Theo can’t help but smile. Those are two words he’d never thought to be combined in a nickname talking about him, but Liam’s mom calls him that almost every day. 

“It was good. David had a surgery, so he’s napping, but nothing too heavy.”

“Awh, good. And where’s Liam?”

“Also napping.” He frowns, but doesn’t quite have the words yet, so he asks, “how was your day?”

“Busy, but alright.” She stirs something in the skillet, then tilts her head at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…” he struggles, again, for the right words. It isn’t his place to comment, but he’s willing to cross the line if he thinks it’s necessary. Right now, remembering the scratches on Liam’s arms, he knows it’s definitely necessary. “I don’t know how to say this…”

Jenna nods for him to speak, his worried look quickly betraying him. “Talk to me. What’s up?”

“Liam…” he starts slowly, “I don’t think the meds are helping him. I think he needs to come off them. He’s been extremely tired lately, and…” he doesn’t finish the sentence. He isn’t sure how to tell her the rest; the concern Theo has for his safety. 

“Sweetheart, the meds are good for him. They help with his condition, and especially knowing… what I know now… he needs to be in control of himself so something doesn’t happen.”

A month ago, Liam had finally told his parents about the supernatural. The news came with some shock, but they took it well otherwise. The lupine gene didn’t make them love their son any less, nor did they express any fear, but it did cause them to worry about his I.E.D. worsening. Heightened strength and emotion could lead to more outbursts. So, worried for him and the people around him - if he were to get angry - they refilled the prescription they’ve ignored for two years. Ever since Liam’s been taking it again, he’s been subdued. His parents only see him more tired, though, and assume it’s working. They don’t see the side effects that Theo sees, though, the stuff he desperately tries to hide. 

“I understand, but isn’t there another medication he can try? Or something natural?”

“Like a therapist?”

“I don’t know, but something else.” He wets his lower lip with this tongue, catching the skeptical look on her face. “I just… he’s so tired all the time, almost too tired, I just, I don’t know, it’s changing him. He isn’t as happy anymore.”

“He’s only been taking them for a month, he’ll get used to it. Just takes some time.”

“No, there has to be another way,” he argues, insisting she listens. Hoping she senses the urgency in his tone. “He barely has enough energy to play. He told me that’s why he stopped taking them in the first place.”

Jenna shakes her head. “He’s going to have to get used to it. It’s the safest thing for him. I don’t want-”

“But it’s not!” He interrupts. “It isn’t safe! He hasn’t been himself. He’s- he’s-” Theo stops at the disappointed look on her face. Jenna isn’t one to re-interrupt back, but instead wait patiently with an eyebrow raised, which, he’s finding, is way worse than being scolded. “I’m sorry.”

“My husband is closely monitoring his state and dosage. If we determine something needs to be changed, we will make that change. Honey, I know you care about him, and I know he doesn’t have the same energy he used to, but this is necessary, okay? I don’t know much about this werewolf stuff, so this is me doing my best to keep my son safe. Please respect that.”

Theo bites his tongue. He doesn’t want to push Jenna any further. He doesn’t want to hurt Liam - either of them - by telling her the truth of how the medication’s really affecting him, so he stays quiet. Upstairs, he can hear Liam shuffling. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Thank you for understanding.”

That is not the word he would use, but Theo doesn’t argue further. When Jenna turns back to the stove, he heads back upstairs to check on his little wolf.

He isn’t okay, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to tell her that. 

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

The next morning brings the usual hustle and bustle as the found family gets ready for a long day of work. Liam’s waiting for a ride from Mason, since on days Theo works at the hospital with his dad, the two drive there together. His dad, at the moment, is in the kitchen greeting his mom, as Liam lazily hugs his boyfriend. As they separate, he drops something into Theo’s scrub pocket, making him narrow his eyes. 

“What’s that?” 

“Gift.”

He digs out a little folded paper heart and smiles. “Where’d you get this?”

“I made it in math class. Couldn’t focus.”

The cute gesture makes Theo kiss him on the forehead, but then he shakes his head. “You do realize you’re retaking senior year to learn this year, right?”

“You do realize I’m retaking senior year because I couldn’t learn last year because half the town was erased by Ghost Riders, and then a war broke out that was led by one of the teachers, right?” Theo gives him a look, causing Liam’s shoulders to slump. “Sorry. I know. I’m trying to focus, but I’m too tired.”

“I know, Little Wolf. It’s okay.” He plops the heart back into his pocket. “Thank you for the heart.”

Liam smiles, but before he can say anything, his mom calls for him across the room. His daily reminder, every morning, at seven sharp. 

“Hey, Li, remember to take your meds, okay?”

Both look over to see her insistent face, and Liam sighs before grabbing the prescription bottle off the table. Theo takes in a sharp breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jenna. She turns back to her husband, whispering. 

“Theo started a little argument about that yesterday.” She nods to her son, who’s popping a capsule into his mouth.

“That’s unusual for him.” Her husband squints.

“Mhm. Let’s keep a closer eye on Liam. He was saying it’s doing more than just making him tired. Asked for an alternative, but I assured him it’s the best option.”

“Okay. Maybe I’ll make an appointment with the psychiatrist again. That might help.”

“Yeah, that’ll be nice.”

“Alright.” He kisses her, then returns to his normal voice. “I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

“I love you, too. Have a good day at work.” Outside, Mason honks loudly, and Jenna turns to the boys. “Liam, time for school. I love you.”

“Okay.”

“Theo, I love you, too. David’s about ready to go.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

He turns to the younger boy. “You gonna be okay?” Liam nods. “You have an issue, you call me. Alright?”

“Okay.”

“If I can’t pick up, what are you gonna do?”

“Make more little paper hearts.”

Theo half smiles. “Okay. Or text Mason, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And I’ll call you back as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good. We’ll be back around six today, hopefully.”

“Okay,” he repeats. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, wolf.” They share a quick kiss, interrupted by Mason honking again, and then Jenna hurrying them both out the door. “You be good. Pay attention in class. The goal is to graduate this year.”

“Shut up, Theo.” He smirks. “I’m kidding. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

Most of the day goes by alright. Except… alright is the only thing Liam’s felt since his mom hurriedly forced him back on antipsychotics after learning about his supernatural status. She was understanding of the news, really, and didn’t mind the fact that he’s a werewolf, but he thinks the only reason she possesses a little bit of concern is because of his I.E.D. If he were a normal kid-turned-werewolf, it’d be no bother, but his condition has always made her worry. 

Jenna loves her son to death and will do anything to protect him. She allowed herself to be an outlet for her angry ex-husband, but the moment she realized he’d also been hurting Liam, she sent him out the door. Finalizing the divorce with the narcissistic man was almost as difficult as being married to him, but it was all worth it once he was finally out of their lives. Despite his lack of presence though, the pain still lingered. The abuse he’d delivered left a mark on them; it left Jenna fearful, and Liam volatile. Letting David into their life was a big step for both of them, but it’s made them better.

The medication, however, has never helped. Liam tends to get the worst of the side effects and little of the actual relief that the chemicals are supposed to give. He stopped taking it for a reason before, and now… well, he’s lucky Theo’s already seen him at his worst, so he doesn’t have to hide his pain from him like he does with his mom. 

He’s struggled with it before, but it manifested itself differently. Liam always remembers the time his stepdad told him, “people deal with anger in two ways: they hurt others, or they hurt themselves.” He used to always hurt someone else first, the way his biological dad taught him, until he turned. Then, every effort became protecting others. And if that meant hurting himself to do so, that’s what he did.

Now, Liam still struggles with it. The Urge. The urge to do something, anything with your pain. Having no idea where to put it, so you put it on yourself. You dig your nails into your arms, extend your claws and bury them in your skin, scratch until all the pain is no longer emotional, but physical, and visible, and out in the open. Bleeding, because it’s easier than crying. He’ll heal faster from open wounds and scars than he will a face red and puffy. 

Liam hasn’t told Mason about the hurt. He knew about it the first time around, but he can’t bear to see his disappointed face if he tells him about the three-year-clean relapse. 

Theo, though, has seen every inch of Liam’s soul, even the icky bits. He’s seen him full of love and full of hate. He’s seen the bits Liam’s tried - and failed - to hide; the shame that you can hide from a best friend but not a lover. Besides, nothing can hide the smell of blood to another werewolf, especially not one you’re living with. Liam wishes he thought twice about that before doing it the time he got caught.

The Urge returns in English class for no particular reason. That’s the thing about it: you could be having the worst day or your life or the best, it doesn’t care. The voice is always in the back of your mind, telling you you could feel a hundred times better if you’d relapse again. Liam bites his cheek, trying to fight it off, and then tastes blood and realizes that’s just as bad. He raises his hand. 

“Yes?”

“Can- May I use the restroom?”

“Sure. Only since you used the correct word.”

“Thanks.”

He calls Theo the moment he locks himself inside a stall. The bastard misses the first call entirely, but Liam calls again anyway. 

Theo feels his phone ringing in his back pocket, but he’s in the middle of taking a patient’s blood and can’t exactly stop right now. Within a minute, the call disconnects, but the caller tries again. Theo hands Dr. Geyer the vial and excuses himself. 

“Can I take a call?”

“Yeah, be quick.”

Beyond the curtain, he panics at Liam’s name on the screen. 

“Li? Are you okay?”

“I’m in the bathroom.”

“Okay? Can you expand on that a little?”

“I’m trying really hard not to do something stupid. I’m really bored. We’re doing absolutely nothing in English class, and my brain is screaming at me.”

“Okay, okay. Hey, take a deep breath. Get your mind on something else. Think about… What were you doing in your English class, hm? Tell me about it.”

“What were you doing in the hospital? I’d rather hear about that.”

“Well,” Theo hesitates, not sure if he wants to talk about it while Liam’s fending off urges about the same thing. 

“C’mon, I’m curious. Your hospital stuff is way more important than Beowulf and the stupid creature he’s trying to kill.”

“Ah, you want to know a fun fact? The Dread Doctors made me read that book.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Part of them trying to be ‘parental,’ like I mentioned before? Yeah, it was a ‘kill two birds with one stone’ kind of thing for them. Read about this giant beast - kinda like the one we’re planning - and get some education in at the same time.”

“Wait, did they make you read a lot?”

“A lot of stuff I read by choice, just to keep busy and feel a little less alone, I guess, but they did make me do some school-like things. She did, I should say.” 

Theo’s talked about her before, The Geneticist, out of the three. A woman was under that mask, and it could be said that she cared more about him than the other two. She saw him as a boy, under all the experimentation. A child, who needed to be raised and taught, despite the environment in which they existed. 

Of course, though, she was as dedicated to the cause as the men were. She bonded to Theo - though it was mostly one-sided - and taught him what was necessary for him to grow up into an intellectual man, just like how he was as the boy they’d stolen. 

She was also the one that selected his fake parents, whenever Theo would need to blend into a new town. She’d study them for weeks before the doctors imposed on their lives. Then, if they failed in any possible way, she would be the one to handle their fates. 

“Wait, so how did that work? In between torture sessions, was she like, ‘hey, and this is the wrench I’ll be using on his teeth. You might use it someday to change a tire’?” Liam asks, then curses himself for being insensitive. 

Theo snorts, unbothered by Liam’s impulsivity. He can’t help his curiosity, nor the speed in which he blurts out questions. “I mean… to an extent? She’d explain the tools they’d use and the science behind their experiments. But like, not every minute was spent torturing kids, so she had some time to actually sit me down and make me learn.”

“So you’ve technically graduated, but through the school of Three Mean Doctors in Gas Masks.”

“I guess so. But remember they’re from 1700s France, so… there’s a disadvantage there.”

“Oh. Oh my god, I forgot about that part.”

“They stayed somewhat in the loop of modern times. Enough so that they could blend in and continue their work. Plus, outside forces coming in exposed them to more present events. Garrett, in the 1940s. Malia’s mom, mid 2000s-ish.”

“Right. So-”

A knock on the door startles both of the boys. Before Theo can call out, Dr. Geyer’s voice comes out clearly on the other side. “Theo? You almost done?”

“Shit, is that my dad?”

“Yeah.” He lifts the phone away for a second. “Yes, sorry. I’ll be out in a moment.” Turning his attention back to Liam, he sighs. “Okay, Little Wolf. How are you doing?”

“Fine. Honestly, I forgot why I called.”

A wave of relief washes over the older boy. “That’s alright. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. God, school is so boring. I can’t wait for practice.”

“Score a goal for me. I lo-”

“Wait, Theo?”

“Hm?”

“I remembered why I called.”

“Are you okay?”

Liam takes a shaky breath. “I think so. Your voice- hearing it- talking to you helps.”

“I’m always here for you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“You gonna be okay if I go back to work?”

“Yeah. I love you.”

“I love you too, Li.”

“Have fun listening to people cough.”

“Have fun reading about Grendel.”

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

Liam begrudgingly drags his feet to his appointment. His dad didn’t even bother to tell him he made one until an hour to time, interrupting his midday Saturday catnap to do so, and quizzing him on useless biology facts the whole way. 

“C’mon, I know you have a test on Monday. Let’s go.”

“Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

“Liam. That is not what I asked.”

“I don’t know anything about blood pH or whatever you said.”

He sighs. “Why are you being so stubborn lately? You don’t put up a fight when Theo quizzes you on homework.”

“That’s because Theo rewards me with-” he stops suddenly, shutting his mouth.

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” his dad says anyway. 

“I was gonna say with candy.”

“No you weren’t.” His tone is joking, but Liam’s not in the mood for it, lighthearted or otherwise. He hates the medication and his parents know that, and now, they’re scheduling him appointments again? The only thing worse than dealing with his anger is talking about it. 

“Hey,” his dad nudges him gently. “It’ll be okay. Just a check up. Nothing major.”

His mom asked Theo to stay behind and help prepare for dinner, separating them at the time Liam needs him most. Whether she did that on purpose or not, he isn’t sure, but it sure feels like it was. 

They pull into the parking lot and Liam already feels his blood pressure rising. He needs Theo to anchor him - that’s all he needs, not this stupid medication. It only makes him worse. They don’t understand. He’d be totally fine if he could just talk to-

“Liam, c’mon.”

He takes a deep breath and exits the car. He swipes the nail bed of his pointer finger under his teeth, cleaning out a bit of dried blood he’d missed earlier. 

“Liam.”

“I am.”

He digs his best smile out from the vault - the one for his therapist, that he hasn’t used in years - and participates just enough to fool her that everything’s fine. 

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

“Did you tell her about the… y’know?”

“Of course not. I don’t want to go to Eichen.” Theo sighs. “What? Do you think I should’ve?”

“No, but I think you should mention it to someone… your mom?”

“Oh, hell no. She’ll worry. And clearly, she’s already worried enough with the werewolf stuff. I can’t freak her out more.”

“Li, I’m worried. I don’t like the way this medication’s making you feel. I think you need to get off it-”

“No shit-”

“-and telling her will get you off it.”

“With my luck, they’ll up my dose even more.”

“Liam, please.”

“I can’t hurt her!”

“You’re hurting yourself!” Liam was going to say more, but Theo’s words cause his own to die in his throat. “This medication is literally causing you to hurt yourself because it’s making you so depressed, you’re having trouble coping with it. I know bad coping mechanisms, Liam, I’ve been there. I can’t sit by and watch this happen to you, knowing a huge contributor is that medication, and I know if your mom knew that, she’d do anything to help you get clean again. Just trust her! She cares for you, Li. Like I do, she loves you. Your dad loves you, and Mason, and Corey. None of us like seeing you in pain, and everyone can tell you are, even though I’m the only one that knows the extent of it.”

Liam stuns. His words have so much weight. Theo’s right, as much as it breaks his heart to hear. He isn’t only hurting himself, but those around him, too. Theo, the boy he always swore to protect. Mason, by keeping him in the dark this whole time. 

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty,” Theo continues, responding to his silence. “I don’t want to make you feel that way at all. I just want you to know you have people who love you and will listen. Because, I love you, but I can only do so much. I can comfort you, I can clean your hands, and ease you into sleep, but I can’t get you off those meds, okay? You need to tell your parents.”

“Okay.” He finally agrees, hands trembling. Theo grabs them, and like before, kisses his fingertips gently, lovingly. “Can you help me?”

“Of course I can help you.”

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

The next evening when both his parents are home, the boys come down together from a ‘study session’ and take to the two chairs they usually occupy in the kitchen. Their knees touch slightly, anchoring each other in the time of uncertainty, and wait for Jenna’s attention to be available. She turns off the stove, then faces them. 

“Hey boys. Studying going well?”

“Y-yeah.” Instead of studying, they’ve been going over this plan for the last two hours, but yeah, he guesses it went well, considering they’ve found the confidence to address the issue. 

“Good, good.” Her eyes bounce between them. “Everything okay?”

“Um-”

“You didn’t break up, did you?”

“What?! No!”

“Oh. Thank god. I got worried for a minute.”

“Nothing like that. Mom, can I talk to you and dad both for a minute? It’s kind of important.”

“Of course, honey. David? Come here for a second, please.”

Liam knocks his knee into Theo’s, who smiles at Jenna for a moment before looking back down at the table. His sudden silence, despite encouraging Liam to talk about this in the first place, is not appreciated. 

“Yeah, on my way,” David says, getting up from the couch in the living room.

“You’re an ass,” Liam mutters to Theo.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“That’s exactly why!”

“What’s up, boys? Everything okay?”

“Um, yeah-” Theo bumps his knee into Liam, who stutters, “-actually, um, no. Not really.”

“Okay, what’s wrong, sweet? School alright?”

“School’s fine. Everything’s fine. Ish. I-”

“Liam,” Theo urges.

“I’m trying!”

David and Jenna grow concerned by the minute. Both have their eyebrows furrowed and their full attention on the couple. Theo’s tempted to jump in and start for him, but fears Jenna’s reaction if he does. 

“I, um, I guess, it’s-”

“Liam,” his mom sighs. “Are you okay? Did you remember your-”

“Yes, I took my meds today,” he interrupts, receiving the same stare Theo got about a week prior. “And that’s kind of the problem.”

Jenna sighs. She looks to Theo, then back at her son, head shaking in disapproval. “Liam, you agreed you’d take them again, for your safety, since we don’t know much about this supernatural stuff.”

“That’s the thing, though. The meds don’t help. They make it worse. I mean, not worse, really. They make me tired, so I don’t really have the energy to be mad, but lately, I don’t have a reason to be mad, so I’m tired for no reason.”

“Okay, I get that. I totally do. But it’s more of a preventative measure than anything else. What if something happens at practice? Or at a game?”

“Well that’s why I have Theo. Well, not the whole reason, obviously, but a large part of it.” He makes the mistake of glancing over at the boy, who’s now chuckling and gently shaking his head. It makes him smile. “Werewolves have these things called anchors that help them control their turns. I mentioned it awhile back, before the meds.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Anchors can be anything from an object, or a mantra, or even another person, and Theo’s that for me. Whenever I’m angry, or at risk of turning, all I need to do is call him, or hear him, or frankly, just think about him, and I can control it. Or, if I’m struggling, he can always bonk me over the head, which has happened, but only in an extreme situation, where-”

“Liam.”

“Sorry.” He thanks Theo for the mini anchor right there - bringing him out of his rambling and back to the present. He looks to his parents again. “I don’t need the meds when I have Theo. He helps me with my anger more than any chemical drug ever could.”

Jenna shakes her head. “I’m glad you two have that trust in each other, but you have to take them, Liam. Your I.E.D. put you at enough risk without the extra strength of being a werewolf. I don’t want to take the chance.” She turns to Theo. “Did you put this in his head? That he doesn’t need it?”

“I-” 

Theo starts to defend himself, but Liam cuts him off. “Mom. He only helped me admit what I couldn’t bring myself to admit. The meds didn’t help two years ago, which is why I stopped taking them. They’re doing more harm than good, and I don’t want to take them anymore.”

“What’s that mean? They help you, Liam. That’s what they’re for.”

“But they don’t.” He sighs. “Mom, you can’t freak.”

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“I-” Theo nudges his knee gently, urging him on. “I don’t like the way they make me feel. I’m tired, too tired to play lacrosse, too tired to focus in school.”

“You’ve only been on them for a month. You’ll adapt.”

“You’re not listening,” he snaps, looking to his dad for direction. His understanding expression helps a little. He’s pro-medication, obviously, but also knows not every drug works for every situation. Jenna knows this, too - Liam knows, deep down - and she just wants the best for him, but it’s hard for her to understand this route isn’t the best. He knows the next thing he has to say will be even harder to hear, but he knows he has to say it. He has to come clean. It’s the only way to help him find what’s truly best for him. 

“This medication’s messing with my head,” he continues. “I don’t have proof, but it’s bad for me.”

“What does that mean? ‘You don’t have proof’?”

“I… it’s been making me depressed, and I haven’t really been dealing with it in the right way.”

“What are you talking about, Liam?” His dad asks, concern etched on his face. He knows, Liam knows he knows, he’s just anxiously waiting for his worst fear to be confirmed. 

“I, um,” he glances at Theo. “Dad?”

“Mhm?”

“Remember when you told me that people either hurt others or they hurt themselves?”

“I do.”

“Well, before, when I couldn’t control my anger, I took it out on others. But ever since turning, I don’t anymore. Unfortunately, that kinda only leaves me with the other option.” He pauses, avoiding eye contact with his mom who’s slowly realizing what he means. “And a lot of the time, Theo helps me control the urges, and I can fight it, but sometimes, I’m too embarrassed to admit it even to him, but he’s the reason I’m telling you. He’s given me the confidence to tell you. I just… I don’t want to keep hurting the people I love, and he’s made me realize that by hurting myself, I’m doing exactly that, and to be honest, I hate doing it to myself, too.” He looks at Theo, again. “Was that okay?”

The older boy rubs his back comfortingly. “Yeah, little wolf. You did a good job.”

He nods, turning his head once more. “Mom?”

Her eyes are watery as the truth sinks in. The words are like a hundred bricks sitting in her chest. “Show me your arms.”

Liam outstretches his arms, skin clear of any scars or blemishes. “We heal really quickly. Honestly, that’s part of the problem. If I had a scar to show for it, it’d probably be easier to stop, but…”

Jenna takes both of his wrists and examines closely. His skin is as soft as always, not a scar in sight. “Where did you do it?”

“Along here,” he points to the underside of his arms, elbow to wrist.

“With what?”

“My claws, mostly.” Jenna stifles a sob. “Are you mad at me? I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

She shakes her head. “No, baby, I’m not mad.” Jenna quickly makes her way around the counter to embrace him in a hug. “God, I’m not mad. Oh! Baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize sooner.” She kisses his head, once, twice, three times. 

“You can’t blame yourself,” Liam says, “I hid it on purpose. I didn’t even mean for Theo to find out, he just… did.”

“Oh!” Jenna’s crying. He can feel her tears on his cheek. Her hands cradle his wrists as if they could shatter. Out of the corner of his eye, Liam can see his dad offering a sympathetic look. He waits for his wife to let go of their son, then gives him a hug of his own. Jenna then wraps her arms around Theo, kissing the side of his head. He freezes from the unexpected contact. 

“Mom,” Liam calls for her attention, sensing his change in heart rate. 

“I’m sorry. Thank you for being there for him. For paying attention to things we didn’t notice.” She lets them both go and circles back around the counter, though reaches across the granite to hold Liam’s hands in her own. She rubs his palms, softly massages his skin, and he can’t help but melt into her touch. 

“Liam’s my anchor as much as I’m his. I mean, my… species, I guess, differs in that we don’t turn on full moons, but he helps whenever I’m angry or upset. Helps ground me back into a normal resting heart rate.” 

Liam notices he doesn’t say something self-destructive like, Tara’s resting heart rate, and smiles. He’s healing, and learning to accept himself, and Liam’s helping him do that. 

“So the anchor stuff you were talking about is really effective? If you’re feeling angry, Theo can calm you down?”

“Yeah.”

“What about before? You said you were turned at the start of freshman year, but you two didn’t start to get close until midway last year.”

“Before then, I had a mantra that Scott taught me. And then for a while, nothing worked, and I was struggling a little, but then, against my will, it became Theo.”

“Against your will,” Theo mutters, shaking his head but smiling.

“Yeah, you were a rat back then. I was so mad when I realized your dumbass calmed me down. And the fact that you already knew made it so much worse.”

“You’re easy to read, Dunbar.”

No, you’re just… overly observant.”

“Yeah, but you’re also easy to read. Especially when you’re angry.”

“Can you tell you’re making me angry right now?”

“Yeah,” he says, matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah? Well what are you gonna do about it?” Theo stares at him. His parents watch in silence, not sure how to intervene or if they even should. “You just gonna stare at me?” Liam eggs on. “Really? You’re just gonna watch. Do nothing? I’m gonna go- I’m gonna go break that lamp over there, you see it?”

“Sure you are.”

“I am.” Liam starts to get up, but then sits back down. “Stop watching me.”

“Can’t. Sorry.”

“I’m gonna break your face.”

“Go for it.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’re a little drama queen sometimes.”

Liam rolls his eyes, then shifts to sit with his leg tucked underneath himself. Theo chuckles, but says nothing. 

“Today Coach asked me if I had a twin and if we’d traded places, ‘because I was unusually slow and looked like I’d just crawled out of a rabbit hole’.”

“I’m gonna break Coach’s face.”

“Scott would kill you.”

“Scott doesn’t have good odds against me.”

Liam laughs, but then his eyes go wide at the memory and he covers his mouth in embarrassment. “Okay, topic change.”

“If you were a twin, the doctors might’ve taken you,” Theo continues, completely immersed in his banter with Liam and forgetful of the adults’ presence. 

“They did take me.”

“They returned you for being annoying.”

“You rescued me, dumbass.”

“Oh, right. Wonder if I have a receipt.”

“I hate you.”

“Okay, boys,” Jenna interrupts. She can’t help but smile at how such a serious conversation has turned into a playful argument between the two. Maybe Liam will be okay without his meds. He has been for three years, without her knowledge. Maybe she overreacted a little too much. “Liam? I’m gonna need you to promise me something.”

“Mhm?”

“If we take you off the meds, you promise to get clean again? Come to one of us if you’re having trouble. Let me know if you do relapse again. Let me know when you’re feeling upset, if Theo’s not around, so I can help you get a hold of him.”

“Okay. I promise.”

“Okay, and let Mason know, when you’re ready, just so he knows.”

“I know, I just didn’t want to disappoint him. Plus, the less people that know, the better.”

“I understand.” Jenna squeezes his hands again. “Oh, baby. I should’ve listened to you about the anchor thing. I just didn’t understand at the time. I especially shouldn’t have upped your dose, but was afraid the typical dose wouldn’t be enough, but it just made everything worse!”

“It’s okay, Mom.”

“It isn’t okay! And you tried to tell me, and I wasn’t listening.” She nods at Theo.

“Well the important thing is that we all know, now, right? Liam can get off those meds and play without Coach throwing insults at him that might be incidentally risking his life.”

“Exactly right.” She smiles at the older boy. “Thank you.” Jenna then chuckles at the second part. “Thank you for protecting him.”

“We protect each other.” It’s cheesy, but it means the world to all of them, Theo included. 

“And this time, you were protecting us, too,” David nods to him. The talk may have ended on a light note, but if it was never addressed, it could’ve had a very dark ending. David’s seen dangerous scars. He doesn’t know the depth of his son’s, but with claws, he knows the damage could’ve been worse than anything he’s seen. As for Jenna, he can’t even imagine how she feels. She’s probably wishing she argued to hug Theo for longer. 

Theo smiles, but he clearly doesn’t know how to answer that. He isn’t used to being praised, despite hearing it quite often from Liam’s parents. This situation, though, is new. This is emotional. This affects more than just him and the person he’s trying to protect. 

“You’re a good kid,” David continues. 

Theo just nods. Liam leans over quickly and presses a kiss to his forehead. His parents smile at his inner conflict to accept the praise, while trying to give him more without it being overwhelming. He doesn’t counter it, though, which is progress from last time, so they leave it at that. 

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

That night, with everyone off from work, the found family takes to the living room for a movie. The married couple make themselves comfortable on one couch, and the boys curl up on another. Liam’s heavy school binder, flipped to his English notes, sits between his legs - his dad and Theo both are forcing him to study during the intro credits, making him groan with annoyance.

“Alright, riddle me this-”

“No-”

“What weapon did Beowulf use to kill Grendel?”

“Nothing. He just used his hands, or whatever.”

“Right, good. And how many geats did Grendel kill?”

“Just the one.”

“There you go. And this woman, Asc - crap - Ace-”

“Aceshere.”

“Thank you. What’s her role in the story?”

“She’s kidnapped and killed by Gretel’s mom.”

“Grendel.”

“Oops.”

“It’s okay.”

Every time Liam gets the question right, Theo praises him and kisses the back of his head. 

After two more, his arms snake up to rest around Liam’s neck to pull him closer. He points to another question on the study sheet. “That guy, what’s his name?”

“Hrothgar.”

“Yeah. How did-”

“I thought you’ve read this book. Why can’t you pronounce anything?”

“I read it when I was, like, eleven, Liam. Give me a break.”

“Oh.”

“From whom did that guy descend? And how did he know Beowulf?”

“Sheepshear. And he knew him because he was friend’s with his dad, or something.”

“Close enough, yeah. Shearson, I think.”

“Wait, but wouldn’t the doctors not like this book because the dragon’s defeated?”

“See, I asked that, but she said no, because the Beast had been defeated similarly, and so it was kind of a lesson for them to not repeat old mistakes.”

“Oh. I guess I see that.”

Jenna and David listen carefully to their chatter. They know the basics of Theo’s past, but he hasn’t told them as much as Liam obviously knows; they have no idea to whom she could possibly be referring, but whomever she is, Theo’s grown comfortable talking about her, and Liam listens intently, so that’s good enough for them. 

They’re proud of them both, for surviving the things they have, and for coming out of them stronger. They’re proud of them for learning to rely on each other, through war and after it. 

Liam knows it, that they’re proud, but they can tell Theo still has trouble processing it. 

He’s a work in progress, but Jenna has to admit, so is Liam, and they’re dedicated to both.

They’re especially proud of them, now, handling not only supernatural threats, but those that threaten them much more personally. Theo has obvious trauma, and Liam’s battled his IED for years, but they help each other through it. 

When the last commercial plays on the old DVD, the cheery music that opens the movie begins to play. Jenna sighs a little, enjoying watching the boys interact more than she likes to admit. She likes seeing them happy and healthily co-dependent. 

Theo acknowledges the change in music faster than Liam does. He prods him on the shoulder and kisses his head at the same time. 

“Alright, movie’s starting, you can stop now.”

“Thank god.” Liam closes his binder and drops it on the ground with a thud that makes his mom jump.

“Liam!”

“Sorry,” he says, without much apology in his tone. “What are we watching, again?”

“The Conjuring,” Theo jokes.

“What?!” Liam whips his head around in distress, eyes wide.

“I’m kidding! It’s The Parent Trap.”

“God, I hate you!” He turns back and slumps his chest against Theo’s hard, making the boy short with breath. 

“Jeez, Li.”

“Sorry.” There’s a little more sympathy this time, considering Liam can hear the lack of air in his lungs from his small voice. “I love you, actually.”

“I know.” Theo finds his hands from underneath the blanket and pulls them up to kiss his fingers. “I love you, too. Actually.”

“Shut up.”

[halinski]

rant in tags about perscription medication and withdrawals

continued here bc i reached tag limit and i'm still??

it's kinda scary tbh

like i was scared for years now of what would happen off my meds and

when i tried tapering off my antidepressants oof i was breaking down every day and now i /know/ i'm dependant on them and idk if that's better or worse

and with the antipsychotics it's like i thought they were helping my depression too bc when tapering off i was also so panicked and depressed (tho my situation is kinda stressful rn)

but idk i've been trying meds on and off for half my life now and most of the time i'm like 🤷

but the truth is

it's fucking scary how it messes with your body

it's fucking scary when you're dependant on a pill

OR ALSO

when pills fuck your body up to the point you can only eat one thing

bc that's the reason i'm going off the antipsychotics and guess what, i'm able to eat more again now

idk if it's just in combination with the hormon pill tbh i'm just going off both now and we'll see how my iron levels and migrains deal lmao

i feel like i can't think straight anymore

gonna have to get new docs anyway so we'll see what they say if(/when) i go anemic again or if going off the antipsychotics will actually fix the issue??

if so, then it'll be like how did this sneak up on me, i've been taking them for 2.5 years like

??

and now i've lost 20lbs despite trying everything to maintain or gain some the past year and a half and i'm at my lowest weight since i was like a preteen lol

and that's all bc of a med that didn't feel like it had an acute effect

or maybe i'm so removed from my body i didn't notice until i got the acute gastritis ??

i mean i can't even be sure its the meds or not until i'm off

and tapering the rest off is gonna be so fun fuck

i dont wanna

i wanna be able to eat more than bread i guess but at this point the thought just scares me and like i associate it with pain and nausea

which as long as i can manage it is fine

but i've only tapered off half, i still have to taper off the other half of the dosage 😭

and with the hormon pill gone again the worst menstrual pain will be back and idk how to manage that, i guess hopefully with the meds gone i won't go anemic again but who knows at this point??

also praying my migraines don't come back but uh... i am pessimistic. i don't have much hope

anyway

moral of the story.....

ALWAYS MAKE SURE TO TAPER OFF YOUR MEDS KIDS BC EVEN JUST TAPERING IS SCARY AND GOING COLD CHICKEN IS PROBABLY HELL

doctors can be annoying (and make things harder, like in my case bc i literally asked if it could be my current meds MONTHS ago, and everyone was like noooooo but guess who was RIGHT) sometimes BUUUUT you should listen to them avout certain things

like

tapering off meds

[pinkfadespirit]

Hey there and happy Friday! Would you fancy "You never should have left" for maybe (past?) Nanders? 👀

Thank you for the prompt! I started this one on the night I got it as a direct follow on from another prompt and now it's been a while and I can't remember how I intended to get from where I started to an actual answer to the prompt. (Though I think maybe the reason I stopped was because I didn't know then, either.)

I've got an idea for another prompt now, though, so I'm just going to post this one as it is, even though it's not technically finished.

For @dadrunkwriting

Nathaniel found somewhere private for them to talk, a quiet room where there was a fire going and reasonably comfortable chairs. He had the feeling this was going to take a while after all. He'd grabbed a bottle of wine on the way in, feeling certain he was going to need it for the conversation he was about to have.

The last time he'd seen Anders, he hadn't seemed like himself. He'd made jokes to ease the tension (and after running into so much trouble in the Deep Roads that the Champion of Kirkwall herself had needed to come to his rescue, there had definitely been a lot of tension) but there had been something off about it all the same. Now, Nathaniel was starting to think he understood what that might be. It wasn't just Justice, or this cause they'd taken upon themselves. It was how it weighed on them. Even then he'd known what he would have to do.

They'd parted without any real chance to catch up and Nathaniel had found himself wondering if he'd ever see him again.

He might not have, if not for the Commander. She was the one who insisted that he was still a Warden. The crimes of one's past were not important. He was one of them, still.

But Nathaniel wasn't sure Anders saw it that way.

Still, he'd allowed himself to be brought back here. Maybe they could figure out the rest.

They took their seats by the fire.  Nathaniel filled two goblets with the wine and pushed one across to Anders. He hesitated before picking it up, then cautiously took a sip.

"It's not the best, I know," Nathaniel said apologetically.

"Still, probably better than anything you'd get at the Hanged Man," Anders replied. "Not that I did much drinking there. Justice never approved. But... things haven't quite been the same since Kirkwall."

"Between you and Justice?"

Anders nodded. "He feels calmer somehow. Quieter."

"Is that... good? That he's quieter, I mean?"

"When all he could think about before was the suffering of the mages we hadn't yet managed to help, it's something of a relief. No matter what we accomplished, it always felt like we should be doing more. It was..."

"Unsustainable?"

"Probably, yes."

Nathaniel frowned. He hadn't thought about it like that. How it might be to combine a spirit's level of focus with the limits of a human mind. No wonder Anders looked so tired.

"It feels different now, though. Ever since we left. It makes me wonder if it was just Kirkwall. Sometimes it felt like... like the entire city was drenched in suffering. Endless. Inescapable. Like whatever remains of all the evil that was ever carried out there was crying out from the Fade. And Justice is much too well attuned to that sort of thing. I doubt it would ever let him rest. But now I couldn't go back if I wanted to."

"And now he's relieved?"

"Maybe."

"You don't know?"

"We don't really talk the way we used to. In a lot of ways, I miss him."

"So do I," murmured Nathaniel without thinking.

When Anders smirked at him a moment later, he looked almost like his old self.

[jsprnt]

Healing Hearts PT. 14 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

A/N: I’m back and survived my exams!! (for now). Enjoy reading loves!

WC: 3.672

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

I drag the eyeliner towards the outer corner of my eye, trying to hold my hand steady as my playlist echoes throughout the bathroom. Finishing my eyeliner, I lean back and observe my eye make up, humming in satisfaction as I grab my lip products. I absolutely loved getting ready, the excitement of listening to my favorite songs while practically creating art on my face, paired with a nice drink never failed to put me in a good mood.

Virgil had told me to get ready for a date. Only giving me the hint of it being a "nice" place.

So, I grabbed the prettiest outfit I had managed to pack. A white satin dress, the long sleeves decorated with small embellishments. I was going to choose a mini-dress, but decided to go for something more safe and still classy, considering the weather. The cherry red kitten heels Virgil had gotten me back in Liverpool dressing up the outfit just right, along with a nice bag I had thankfully packed with me.

My tranquil state is interrupted by Virgil's deep, but comforting voice calling from the door of the bathroom. I whip my head around, replying with a 'Yeah, come in!' and return back to putting my jewelry on.

He pushes the door open, walking up to me as I struggle to put on my gold necklace.

"Need help?" He asks, his hands coming up to my hands.

I hum, his hands grazing mine as I hand him the necklace. He latches the clasp quickly and I turn to face him. Checking out his outfit.

His black trousers, just the right amount of baggy, not too much and not those ugly tight trousers some men willingly decide to wear. His top what I assume, a cashmere sweater. The Audemars Piguet watch completing the look perfectly. I had seen that brand of watches on my ex- all the damn time, but seeing Virgil wearing it made the watch look about ten times better.

"You look nice." I tell him, watching the corners of him lips curl up in a smirk. He leans forward, planting a kiss above my ear, knowing I didn't want to mess up my make up immediately.

"You too." He whispers, close to my ear making my own lips curl up in a smile. I turn away, grabbing my bag.

"Can we go now? I'm dying out of curiosity."

"Car will be here in five minutes. Let's go."

I hold onto Virgil's hand as we step into the elevator. Slightly tense, because I hadn't stopped thinking of running into my ex- in the elevator, the lobby, even the grocery store down the street, even though I knew that man would never enter a grocery store. Delivery was his only solution to life.

I watch the digital number of the elevator change. I knew the elevator would go slow until level fifty, then practically flash through the rest of the levels.

Though, my heart practically stops beating as the elevator announces a stop at level fifty. My body tenses immediately, my grip on Virgil's hand tightening unbeknownst to me. The elevator doors open, the sudden imaginary feeling of my heart jumping out of chest making me tense up even more. I watch the doors open, squinting out of fear and anxiety, only for an older man to step in, literally looking nothing like my ex- or anyone I knew whatsoever.

I notice Virgil's facial expression, his eyebrows low and scrunched together as he literally almost witnessed me wanting to jump out of this elevator. 'Something wrong?' he mouths, nudging me. I glance at him, trying to change my facial expression and shaking my head and mouthing a 'No, I'm okay'. Hoping it would make me look less... crazy.

He doesn't look entirely convinced, but I dismiss his stare, squeezing his hand reassuringly as I watch the elevator finally arrive at the final level.

We arrive at the restaurant after a short car ride. Virgil leading me into the restaurant quickly as the weather had been increasingly getting colder, the strong wind blowing past us, making us look somewhat disheveled.

I observe the interior immediately, the dark wood complimented nicely with neutral colors. A man greets us instantly, his eyes wide and the biggest smile on his face as he looks at us. Making me want to crack a smile back, people who worked in customer service were amazing. Being able to greet and help every single customer warmly wasn't easy, especially on bad days.

I also had a costumer service job when I was about sixteen. I had to, my dad forcing me to work for the experience and my mom wanting me to socialize more outside of school. Safe to say I lasted six months before I was out that job. Was it my fault people were so mean to me? I was a cashier, just trying to my job after all.

We follow the waiter, walking past other tables and being lead into a- private dinning room?

I eye Virgil as the waiter asks for our coats, unbuttoning it and handing it to him. He said 'nice', but not private dinning nice?!

I glance at the wall, a two Michelin star plaque on the wall, making me want to drop my jaw.

The waiter tells us about the- nicely detailed menu curtly, leaving shortly after, as I stare at Virgil with raised brows.

"What? I said 'nice'. This is nice." He answers, he tries to sound innocent, but the cocky expression and undertone doesn't really help his case whatsoever.

I open my mouth to protest, but he's first.

"You've said that you don't want people finding out about us just yet- so I thought- where can we go so you feel comfortable and safe." He answers, his hand coming to rest on top of my slightly cold one.

"Oh-"

So, I just got a little mad at- him wanting me to be comfortable? I sounded insanely ungrateful- tragically ungrateful.

"Just stop thinking of anything. Only think of me, us."

"Yeah, I love all types of cuisine. Italian is definitely in the top five, but have you tried Indian food?" I ask, watching him take a sip of his drink and shake his head.

"One of my best friends is Indian, and she used to make the best food back university. Though, once- during exam week. It was like two in the morning and what do university students do? Study until late and get hungry." I continue, seeing his eyes focused on me intently as a smile makes it way to his lips.

"Basically- we were so sleep deprived that we left the stove on, the food was insanely good obviously- but when I returned to the kitchen, the stove was on fire." I watch his eyes widen slightly a concerned look in his eyes.

"But- I had taken a fire safety course like a month before that- because my dad insisted- so I put out the fire, but it literally saved our lives." I say dramatically, bragging to him about my past heroic act.

"Did you get hurt?" He asks.

I hum a little before answering. 

"Like a little? I burnt my arm, like here." I say, pulling up my sleeve, showing him the fading scar in the inside of my arm. "You can't see it unless I point it out though."

He reaches over, running his thumb on the scar for a moment and looking back at me.

"Did you only get in trouble in university or?" He asks, a smile on his face.

"No, I obviously did my best! I wouldn't be here if I didn't, no?" I retort playfully, collecting the last bites of my caramel soufflé the waiter had recommended mend after I had stared at the menu for a concerning amount of time.

"You're right, doctor." He answers, a chuckle leaving his lips.

I excuse myself to the bathroom a while later, grabbing my bag and stepping out of the private room quickly. The private room was facing the rest of the restaurant. I had to take a left turn to get to the bathroom, which meant I did have to walk past- almost everyone in the restaurant. Smiling curtly at another waitress, I turn, trying to hold my gaze on to the floor- just in case.

Though, not before catching a way too familiar mop of dark blonde hair.

My eyes widen immediately, taking a double take before launching myself into the ladies' restroom. Thankful for the fancy restaurant having single restrooms, only for one individual at a time. I close the door quickly, my chest heaving as I realize my worst nightmare of these past few days had come true. Theo and me, were in the same restaurant. Seems like all of my worrying had eventually manifested into reality and I didn't know how to handle it.

I close my eyes, trying to calm myself down, but my clammy hands and racing thoughts don't help. It's like a heavy blanket thrown over my head- suffocating. I walk over to the sink, hoping the cold water can ground me mentally.

Splashing the water on my hands and carefully around my neck, helping to some extent. Trying to come up with some kind of 'game plan' of how I would get back to Virgil without my crazy ex recognizing me.

Okay- so, he's sitting facing my way- he had a date? From the back and side profile it was obviously a woman, her dark hair in intricate coils. I couldn't lie, she was drop dead gorgeous, but the fact that she was sitting across that heinous man made me feel bad for her.

I wash my hands again, touching up my make up quickly-because even in distress I wanted to look good in case they would find me dead over here from panic. I take a deep breath, swinging open the restroom door, the sight of that exact same girl startling me. She gives me a smile, one that I struggle to reciprocate before I hurry and get back into the private room, pretending to be way too interested with the paintings on the wall to my right.

"Ready to go?" I ask immediately as I enter the room. Virgil already standing up with my brown coat in his hand. Assuming he'd paid the bill already.

"I am, come here." He gestures, holding out the coat for me to put on.

"Thank you." I say, slipping the coat on and buttoning some of the middle buttons. Grabbing my scarf that's on my chair and wrapping it around my neck, intentionally covering the bottom half of my face.

"Come on it's not that cold." I hear Virgil say, but I shake my head.

"It is, come on let's go!" I grab his hand, ushering him and wanting walking out of the restaurant, into the car. We bid the staff farewell quickly, thanking them for their service. I keep my gaze away from the inside of the restaurant as we step outside, into the freezing cold weather.

"Turn the volume up!" Liz yells through the already loud music. The loud bass of 'Cocky AF' by Megan Thee Stallion blasting through the car speakers. All of us singing along, we were getting way to hyped for a football game, but that didn't matter as long as we had fun.

It was getting dark outside, the streets busy and many people dressed in Dutch and French kits. All of us were also dressed in our own kits, and of course mine was Virgil's.

It was match day, The Netherlands against France for the EURO qualifiers, and we were excited. I couldn't wait to be in the Johan Cruijf stadium. After all, it was one of the places I had built up my experiences and knowledge at, making me the professional I was today.

We finally arrive in the VIP parking garage, all of us stepping out the car. I grab the VIP lanyards out of my bag, handing all the girls one, and making our way into the lounge.

I do recognize some people, half awkwardly greeting them and answering their question as to what I was doing there. 'Invited by a friend' was my go to at this point. We decide to grab our snacks and make our way to our seats. The stadium fully packed from people all over the country - not to mention those that traveled all the way here to watch this game. I grab my phone, taking a picture and sending it to Virgil.

He responds with a picture of his own, it's him in his fully orange kit. I angle my phone and hide it as I fight the urge to swoon right then and there and respond with a 'good luck' and turn off my phone. Knowing it was close to game time. I pull my coat closer to my body, as the temperature had dropped slightly. Though, I so desperately wanted to take it off as my shirt couldn’t be seen, making me feel a little sad.

"Give me your phone." I hear Monet say.

"For what?" I ask her, furrowing my brows.

"For pictures of course. Do you want to be the WAG without cool pictures?" She asks and I roll my eyes before handing her my phone. I wouldn’t post them, at least not now. Maybe later when I got used to this and everything that comes with it.

After taking about a thousand pictures of each other and together, we hear announcements through the stadium speakers.

The players and staff make their way onto the pitch. My eyes only focus on Virgil, our eyes connecting as he finally finds me, a smile on his face as I wave for a moment.

I can hear my friends making fun of me and swoon. Which prompts me to shove them. We acted like middle schoolers sometimes.

"This reminds me of the past." I hear Jul say and I look at her.

"When? When I dated that piece of shit or when you dated that one guy that couldn't secure the first team position or any position, but bragged about being a football player?" I ask her, laughing at our ridiculous past partners.

"At least we're free of them." She says, patting my back sweetly and I hug her, being thankful for my friends. If only she knew.

The entire stadium erupts in both angry and happy shouting matches as Hartman scores the first goal for The Netherlands at the 84th minute. We are all hopeful for the next minutes, still bitter when thinking of the cancelled goal, but sadly it doesn't go so well and the match ends 2-1 for France. I felt awful for Virgil, the defeated look on his face making me feel for him.

You would think our team had a curse against the French team, always playing against them in crucial games, and sadly they just seem to hit the back of that net more often than our team. The only thing that could cheer me up, was knowing at least Ibou was doing well, couldn't be mad at that of course.

"I hate France!" I hear Jul say defeated. I turn towards her, giving her a skeptical look.

"Aren't you there like every month? You literally are part French. Will you stop going there now?" I say, laughing at her.

"Of course not." She mumbles and I laugh harder, deciding to stand up and go back into the lounge.

I urge the girls to head home already. I would drive back with Virgil anyways and didn't want them to wait.

After sitting and mingling with other individuals there I hear my phone ring, pulling it out of my pocket and checking it, realizing Virgil must be done with his interviews.

"Yeah?" I answer, saying goodbye to the people there and stepping out of the lounge. Making my way into the parking lot. I walk down the stairs, the parking lot still full with cars as I notice Virgil.

I make a short leap towards him, pulling him into a hopefully, comforting hug.

"You okay?" I ask him, feeling his arm wrap around my back.

To be fully honest, I didn't know how to comfort him. I wouldn't want make him feel anymore dissatisfied than he probably already was. The French football team is unarguably one of the best in the world, and even getting to play a 2-1 against them was already a great achievement.

I pat his shoulder, pulling away and holding my hand out.

"Let me drive yeah? I haven't had any alcoholic drinks. You should rest."

I grab the two big cups of warm honey tea, walking over to a freshly showered Virgil and handing a cup to him.

"Here- it'll warm you up." I say, placing my cup onto the coffee table and joining him on the sofa.

"Thanks." He mumbles, placing his own cup on the coffee table after taking a sip.

I observe him carefully, adjusting the blanket resting on our laps.

"You guys got yelled at by Koeman?"

He nods, leaning down and placing his head on my lap, his face pressed against my thigh. He looked insanely disappointed. I guess doing this work makes you pretend you're alright for the cameras and your teammates. Having to be upset in your own home instead.

“Any injuries? Feeling any pain?” I ask, feeling him shake his head.

I hum, running my fingers on his nape. The smell of fresh soap and laundry detergent filling my senses.

"You all tried your best and that's honestly all that matters. You’ll be able go to Germany next year. See, you guys train and practice all the time. Besides if that one goal was counted instead of being canceled after being checked by VAR it would've ended a tie." I whisper, hearing his breathing become slower.

"When are you guys leaving for Greece?"

"Tomorrow night." He mumbles, his voice thick with exhaustion and deeper than ever.

"I'll leave for Greece on the 15th, promise you'll visit my hotel after the match?" I ask, though the only thing I hear are soft snores.

The stadium erupts in protest after The Netherlands gets awarded a penalty. The sold out stadium of almost 25.000 people collectively creating a loud noise, as I watch it all unfold. The Dutch team shortly discusses who would take the penalty. I watch them with much anticipation and anxiety. No goals so far during this entire game, leaving the fate of this match possibly be decided by this penalty. Especially since we already were in extra time.

This goal could be a deciding factor for a second place in the table as well, making this more exiting as I watch Virgil hold the ball in his arms.

The Dutch supporters side erupts in cheers as we all watch Virgil place the ball down. He takes a deep breath, and it's like my ears work faster than my eyes as I hear loud cheers from my side. The ball hits the right side of the net as Vlachodimos dives to the left of the net.

Virgil does his signature celebration as the players run after him. I jump up along with the supporters next to me, cheering with these complete strangers like we were my lifelong friends.

We try to calm down a bit, watching the last couple minutes of the game. Another quick VAR check turning into a red card for Poyet, the coach of Greece as we watch in astonishment. The last few minutes were very intense and nerve wracking. Thankfully, it ends with a 1-0 for us as we all cheer. Though, I couldn't lie and I say that I didn't feel bad for cheering a little to hard when Virgil scored, Tsimikas was his opponent after all.

I watch the Dutch team walk along the away supporters side, clapping and cheering from happiness and appreciation. Virgil making eye contact with me, winking quickly. He was making it really difficult for me to not jump over the barrier and give him the biggest kiss ever. The look he gave me- along with the captain band on his arm enough to make me go feral.

I blow him a kiss, signaling him of my leave as I quickly make my way out of the stadium. One thing I had learnt was that the exit would get insanely busy if you didn't leave early.

I walk up to the car Virgil had arranged for me for this short trip. Greeting the driver, putting seat belt on and making small talk with him until he dropped me off at my hotel. I tip him, wishing him a good night before getting out of the car and walking up to my hotel room.

I lay down on my bed after freshening up, grabbing my phone out of my bag as I search for the live after match interview Virgil always did as captain, and click on the video.

The sight of my boyfriend looking so good nearly making me melt as I watch the interview.

Honestly, only focusing on his eyes, before my trance is interrupted by a text message from Priya.

"Hey, girl. Is this blind item about you?"

I furrow my brows, clicking onto the notification and opening the link she'd sent me.

'The athlete and the Doctor.'

'A certain A list Premiere League football player was seen with a pretty girl on his arm a couple nights ago. Sources say the girl with a title of "Dr" who has history of dating a certain billionaire heir, was the player's choice of date, the night before an important match for the athlete. He seems to want to keep it under wraps, since sources say they dined in a private room of a two Michelin star restaurant.'

'(NOT REVEALED 17:38 16-10-23)'

There's no fucking way-

[moonblossom]

Where I've been for a week...

This gets graphic about physical injury below the cut, so please don't read if that's something you're not up for right now. TL;DR I fell down the stairs and massively fucked up both my legs.

So last Tuesday, I was working from home as I usually do. I went upstairs to have a coffee and some banana bread my dad made. While up there, I realised I'd forgotten to set my work phone to DND so I hurried up and ran down the stairs to my room where my office is.

Big mistake.

The stairs into my room are varnished wood, awkward heights, and not very well lit. I slipped and missed my footing, which has happened a million times before.

This is where things get unpleasant. Read on with caution.

Somehow, both the tibia and fibula in my right leg snapped in half with enough force to drive them both through the front of my shin.

I was in and out of consciousness, but I do remember being surrounded by what felt like 40 EMTs (was closer to ten according to my folks - three ambulances showed up), one of whom was utterly charmed by my lizard. He looked about twelve. Bless him for distracting me while one of his partners cut open my favourite lounge pants and shoved the bones back inside my leg. I was not wearing underwear at the time.

We get to the Montreal General Hospital in... mediocre time, due to a fuckton of construction and detours. Bienvenue a Montreal, fuck right off.

They put me straight into a trauma unit and pumped me full of fentanyl and antibiotics. I vaguely remember one of the EMTs referring to my pain level as a "fifteen out of ten". They checked my entire body to make sure nothing else was injured, both manual and ultrasound to make sure I still had my spleen and shit. Thankfully, all my innards are still functional. They cut the remaining shreds of my pants off but managed to get my tank top off without too much drama. Someone was kind enough to drape a hospital gown over my boobs and... possibly my crotch? I was in too much pain to give a crap at this point.

They manage to take a few x-rays while I curse them and their ancestors and the hospital and just... the entire fucking world, and then fill me up with some delightful cocktail of propofol and ketamine. I remember very little after this point, but apparently they yanked my leg into place, noticing my right left ankle was severely sprained in the process. So that was fun. Apparently I cursed a bunch more, and made a bunch of jokes that were likely inappropriate but broke the tension I guess?

I "woke up" from the cocktail feeling like I was underwater, and then convinced I was inside Disney Dreamlight Valley, which frankly was a lovely way to come out of sedation. I think I was picking flowers with Mirabel Madrigal.

At some point during all this nonsense my mother managed to get in touch with my boss who was adamant that I take as long as needed, which was a good thing. My dad came to the hospital with me but they wouldn't let him into the trauma unit. It was very chaotic and crowded and likely gross to watch so I get it.

After the realignment, they pushed my gurney to the space between X-Ray and CT to get better scans. They were both occupied so I sat in the hall for a few minutes and vaguely remember saying "Bonjour, hi!" and "Can I help you?" to random people who passed me. Once a retail worker, always a retail worker, apparently.

CT confirmed I also had a broken bone in my left foot. They moved me into ER main, put a boot on the left and bandaged up the wound. I was told I'd need surgery but they were so overwhelmed (ER was like at 160% capacity or something) so they had no idea when I'd be cleared.

They brought me dinner which claimed to be frittata and mashed potatoes but I'm fairly certain was actually upholstery foam and wallpaper paste. Thankfully it was so unappetizing I didn't eat more than a few bites, because my nurse was like "Hey so you're next on the OR list. If they ask if you ate, say no." XD Bless you Meagan, you saved my arse multiple times. You are a sarcastic, foul-mouthed, adorable angel among nurses (and really all the nurses were lovely). About an hour later they wheel me up to the ER, wash me down as best they can, and start prepping me. I meet the surgeon, who is as brusque and no-nonsense as orthopedic surgeons tend to be, but he did take the time to explain the whole procedure and risks, and make sure I was comfortable and understood.

What they were gonna do was drill down through my knee and insert a titanium rod down the centre of the entire tibia. The fibula was close enough and a clean enough break that it could rely on the tibia's stabilisation. Fun note about this particular surgery - you can walk on it within days of it being installed. No cast or anything!

The anaesthetist suggested a sedative and a spinal block (similar to an epidural) rather than a full unconscious anaesthetic because of my medical history and they're just generally less dangerous. However, it turns out the sheath around my synovial spaces in my spine is made out of fucking Kevlar or something. They bent SEVEN NEEDLES trying to get a shot in. Took about 45 minutes. I was numb so it was nbd but it was like... ten PM at this point and everyone was tired so when the anaesthetist was like "I think we should do a general" I was like "sign me the fuck up where's the consent form" I woke up a few hours later in the PACU (post-anaesthetic care unit) with a titanium upgrade, 37 staples in four separate locations, an incredibly fashionable thigh-high bandage, and my mother at my side. I faded in and out for about an hour and then remember being in a tiny little private room with its own bathroom. A total luxury in our older hospitals (The MGH as an institution has been around since the 1800s and the building I was in was built in 1955 - the bathroom even had adorable black and white tiling typical of the bathrooms of that era). That's pretty much all the dramatic bits of the story. They kept me for a week working with nurses, orthopedic residents, and physiotherapists until they were comfortable enough that I could move around enough at home to attend to my basic needs. I have crutches, a walker, a rolling commode so I can do the needful literally a foot from my med, a desk that slides over my bed, and thankfully two incredibly patient and indulgent parents. I'm fairly certain they never expected to be cleaning their 42 year old daughter's poop out of a bucket, but what can you do?

If anyone is genuinely curious, I have photos and would be willing to write up the hospital stay itself but 90% of it will be me complaining about the other patients on the ward who screamed at the nurses for everything and if I'd been able to walk I would have smothered with a pillow, or the "food" they tried to feed me which got increasingly inedible as the week went on.

If you've read this far, bless you. If you leave a note or message me I'll do my best to reply but I'm floating in and out of a dilaudid-infused haze so it might be a while.

At this point I'm not too proud (or possibly I've just lost whatever shame I had left when they cut my pants off), if you feel like sending me a get-well gift my amazon wishlists are here: general wishes | https://www.amazon.ca/hz/wishlist/ls/1K85M74WULR1N?ref_=wl_share

craft supplies | https://www.amazon.ca/hz/wishlist/ls/PXBKTW4UK0AQ?ref_=wl_share

US wishlist | https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2MT3KS1ZDZG0O?ref_=wl_share

(stuff will be delivered to my boyfriend and I'll open it whenever I'm allowed to fly down there)

[bamdelune]

In Hindsight 📹 Ch. 02 : "Room 613"

notes. this chapter will mostly be text-based & will try to ease the plot better so excuse the length! I'll be putting a line break after the first few to consider the scroll time on tumblr <3 the social media portion of this chapter is below the 19th block of text if you're curious,

cw! mention of nosebleeds (once)

After the day you were admitted into the hospital, the rest of the week was dedicated to thorough laboratory tests and consultations. Care of Dr. Baizhu, of course.

Dr. Baizhu has been your physician ever since you were in elementary school. Before you checked in, you had called him about unusual pains and abnormalities you noticed with yourself. You suffered from additional headaches that were severe to a level and nosebleeds seemed to happen more often. He in turn advised you to come to the hospital to get it checked. The process was daunting and exhausting but you finished, falling face-first onto the soft cushions of the ward's bed.

Saturday, you woke up early to meet with your production team to discuss your upcoming album—though it happened online since the nurses specifically told you that coming outside in this state wasn't exactly the best course of action.

The meeting went by after about 45 minutes. The mood sampler ABYSS Entertainment posted a week ago was merely something to keep your fans from suspecting anything, mainly how you haven't actually made any progress on the album. But the meeting bore fruit, much to your joy. "Pieces of Love" would be taking on a dreamy, floaty, ethereal theme which was a complete contrast to the mood sampler video's gloomy one. The album would have twelve tracks and as always, you took the responsibility of writing and producing the majority of each song with a little help from your team. This process provided you a certain peace whenever it happened and you were more than glad you have the chance to do it now.

The sound of knocking resonated within the walls of your room before the sliding door shuffled open to reveal Dr. Baizhu and a young man and a nurse following suit. Your mind questions the stranger but your attention comes back to the doctor.

"Y/N, good morning. I see that you're up early." Baizhu greets with a gentle smile you had long grown familiar with.

You stuff your laptop and writing notebook into the depths of one of your bags before placing it down on the floor beside your bed. You sit down on the edge, and face Baizhu. "Oh, yes. I had to meet up with the production team today." You reply, mirroring his smile.

The nurse shuffles forward to take your vitals, just as she had for the past week. Dr. Baizhu then continues to converse with you, the young man that followed him in here still behind him. standing silently. "I take it you're coming out with a new song?"

"Full album now, actually." You smile at the thought of the achievement. It was one of your goals to release a full album and now that was in the making. You notice the stranger shift as if he wanted to say something but he remained silent.

Baizhu notices the direction in which you were peering at and chuckles. "Ah, right. Forgive me, it seems that I forgot to do some introductions."

"Y/N, this is Kunikuzushi. He's a— well, honorary intern here at the hospital. In reality, he's in his fourth year of college just like you are. And Kunikuzushi, this is Y/N. I'm not sure if you've heard of them but I believe they also attend the same university as you do."

Your lips form a small 'o.'

Honorary... intern? This kid must've done some talented things for him to intern this early. Doesn't internship come later?

"I've heard of them before, doctor. They've made quite a noise in the music industry." Kunikuzushi replies curtly. You couldn't blame him, perhaps he was just the awkward one.

"Well, I suppose that makes this easier then," Baizhu pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose. "Kunikuzushi here will be coming along with me to grasp the concept of working at a hospital so I hope this doesn't pose as a problem for you, dear?"

"Not at all, doctor." You reply with understanding.

"Thank you. Well, I believe your vitals are okay as of the moment so I'll leave you alone now. Please do make sure to rest, Y/N." The green-haired physician advises you as he leaves through the door with the other two. "Call the staff if you need anything, yes?"

You only nod in response before waving him off, welcoming back the silence of the room when the doors slides closed.

You take this as a chance to flop back down onto the comfort of the mattress, throwing your head back onto the pillows as you stare at the white crowned ceiling. Just then, a vibration shakes the wood of the side table.

For the second time this morning, the sliding door hisses open going to the left of the wall. Your best friends shuffle inside your room holding some paper bags and Lumine seemed to be holding a small box tied with a white ribbon.

"You know it's scary how easily we got into your room." Aether blurts out, setting one of his shares of paper bags on one of the two free chairs in the corner. The other two shuffle around to take the contents of their bags out and on to the small coffee table between the chairs.

You breathe a sigh when you kick your feet off the edge of the bed and onto the cool floor, "I told them to watch out for three sleep-deprived college kids today." Aether shoots you a frown while Xinyan then comes closer to you with an open box of snacks, holding one of them in between her fingers and you open your mouth to pop it in. You munch on it slowly as a slightly sour but sweet stream of flavor explodes in your mouth.

"Strawberries?" You ask in between chews, Xinyan nods with a smile.

"You said you were craving them so I bought some from Xiangling from the culinary department. She was trying to offer me some more items but they looked... er, you get it."

You nod in acknowledgement of her words, quietly watching the twins settle down.

"What's the box for?"

Lumine looks in your direction before her face lights up in realization, grabbing the small box from earlier and digging for three envelopes from her sling bag. "Letters. We were originally planning to send only three from each of us but apparently, some of the professors and people on campus had the same idea."

She hands the two items to you and you turn them slightly to examine them. Your hands shake the box to hear a few solid knocks on the cardboard. "Seems 'some' isn't the right word," you laugh, slightly taken aback by the sound of the amount of messages inside.

The rest of the hour and a half that your group spends in your room, they managed to feed you just a little bit of the food you missed. Truth be told, you were kind of getting sick of the hospital food again. Xinyan explains the gist of your current lessons and offers to lend you her notes. Aether suggests that all four of you could binge watch something until their visitation time is over.

You opted to read the messages in the box after your friends left. It was sunset by the time they did and you were just getting tired from the talking you did.

The only light in the room came from outside the sliding door which led to the floor's front desk, and the warm lighting of the drop-down ceiling when you started going through the letters in the container. Most of them were just your professors and classmates wishing you well and good health, congratulating you on the process of making your album, and whatnot. You saved the three's letters for last, figuring that it must've been special and lengthy just by how much paper they used.

Frankly, your friends' messages were the ones responsible for breaking the dam of tears as you read along. As you dry the salty remnants from your face, you take out your notebook dedicated for songwriting and use the night to begin writing one of your b-sides.

synopsis. You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as life begins to seep out of your own body? (scaramouche x gn!reader)

tags. gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, crack, heavy contexts of death and illnesses, friends to lovers, slowburn, profanities, drinking (characters are in college), suggestive themes but no nsfw.

taglist. (open, reply or send an ask to be added/removed) — @beriiov @alatusorrow @br0oke96 @ohmyfinggod @itzblazekun @featuredtofu @sketcheeee

masterpost ★ masterlist © bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!