#prescribing me shit without even explaining it to me

[ghostzzy]

like ik i need to probably find an in-network psychiatrist but every one i’ve ever had has been. Just So Fucking Bad.

[multific]

Attached to You

Modern!AU

Billy Hargrove x Reader

A/N: I'm not a doctor nor am I medically trained, so, there are things here which are incorrect. Please ignore them and try to enjoy the piece as it is. Thank you.

Summary: After a one-night stand, you find out you are pregnant, thanks to your doctor's bad advice, it turned out that your pills weren't effective. Leaving you with a baby, you have lots of decisions to make.

"I only told you because you deserve to know. I don't want anything from you. I will deal with this myself." 

Your words rang in his head over and over again.

It had been almost two weeks since he last saw you and now, he wasn't sure what he was doing.

Billy couldn't stop thinking about you. How you smiled at him even when he could see you were close to a breakdown.

It was all meant to be one night. Something he had done many many times before.

When he saw you sitting alone at the bar, he was quick to make his move. Flirting with you was easy as you blushed at every word he said. He soon learned about an ex of yours, the guy, as you explained, was rather obsessive about you and didn't want to let go of you, which is why you were hiding in a bar.

And so, Billy took this as a sign and brought you home.

It wasn't meant to end like this. He always made sure to have a condom with him. All the time. Of course, the one time when he doesn't, he gets someone pregnant...

But even so, you didn't look mad, you didn't demand money or anything from him. You just smiled and moved on.

He didn't even know your name. All he had is a phone number.

"You can delete my number as well. I won't look for you. All I wanted is for you to know since you are the father."

Father.

A word that scared him.

A word which meant nothing to him as he too, never had a father.

The realization hit him like a cold shower, he didn't have a father, so he knows just how hard it is to grow up without one, and here he was, the exact same as his.

He will have a child, who won't know their father. Who will go through the same pain as he did. Who will see their mother slowly crumble under all the pressure.

He is no better than his own asshole father.

This was unfair. 

He could run. Men could run from the responsibility since they weren't attached to the baby, but women couldn't.

---

Billy felt like a piece of shit. 

It had been almost two months since he last saw you.

And he couldn't help but wonder what 'dealing with it' meant for you. Did it mean you got an abortion? Or did you keep the child?

This was eating him alive.

He needed to find you and have another conversation with you. But you didn't pick up the phone nor did you reply to any text he sent.

He set out to the club he originally met you.

"Why the fuck did I think a pregnant woman would be in a club?!"

IF you were still pregnant.

The next couple days were awful for him.

Trying to find you, he went to the café you invited him to, no sign, he went to a hospital and asked if they knew about you. But of course, they couldn't give out any information.

You were all he could think about. 

You and the baby he might have already lost.

Billy didn't feel like himself. 

And then, one day, he spotted you. As he was walking down the street when he noticed you on the other side. 

He followed you like a creep.

Dodging people, running. He followed you. Tried to call out but since he didn't know your name, it was difficult.

You went into a pharmacy and he stopped by the front door. His heart was beating fast, not only from running.

"Hi. I have some pills prescribed for me." he could hear you say. The pharmacist took a look and turned to you. 

"Can I ask for your full name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

"You have... pregnancy vitamins prescribed by Dr Drew."

"Correct." you smiled. Oh God, that smile taunted him.

"Alright, let me get that for you."

He felt himself calm a little. Pregnancy vitamins. Why did they have to prescribe those for you anyway? But this meant you still had the baby.

"So, since this kind is... stronger, we recommend you take only one daily. If you skip a day do not take two the next day. Technically these are not vitamins, they are just called that. Is your pregnancy i-"

"The doctor said these are the best for my condition. So I need to take them."

"These are for you not the baby." she was rather rude as you tried to ignore her.

"I know."

"Alright, anything else I can give you?"

"Do you have any of those shooting creams? For when the skin stretches?"

"For the stretch marks? We have one, which is cold and another which is warm. One helps shoot the skin the other helps the marks to be less visible."

"I would like the one that shoots the skin, please. That would be all."

Billy watched as you paid for everything before he quickly exited so you wouldn't notice him.

Pregnancy vitamins... for you not for the baby. And you had a condition?

He watched as you walked away, but as you did a man ran into you. The man continued on while you nearly fell over.

"Watch where you are going, Asshole!" Billy pushed the man as he passed him, before he helped you. "Are you okay?"

He only realized that he was now holding your arm as you looked up at him. When did he get this close to you?

"O-Oh, yes. I'm fine thanks." he saw it in your eyes, you realized who he was soon after as you took a step back. "Thank you." you adjusted your bag before starting to walk and he knew he couldn't let you leave.

"Can we-Can we talk, Y/N?" he suddenly spoke up and you turned to him.

"If you want to." he nodded and you guided him to a nearby park and sat down on a bench.

An awkward silence filled the air. 

He knew he needed to talk. 

He took a deep breath.

"I was scared when you said you would deal with it, that you meant... abortion."

"I'm not going to lie, I thought about every option. It was one of them but... I decided against it."

"I-I heard you at the pharmacy..."

"Oh, you were there?" you looked up at him, genuinely surprised. 

"You got some meds..." he nodded as he pointed at your bag. 

"I-The doctor said it is okay to take pregnancy vitamins. But it turned out that I was the one needing them, not the baby. The doctor said my body puts the baby as a priority and takes away nutrition from me. We found out during my eight weeks when I asked the doctor if it was normal that I feel very dizzy. He did some checks and yeah. But... why are you asking me this?"

"Because for the last weeks, I couldn't stop thinking about you and the baby."

"You don't have to. You are not guilty or anything."

"I grew up without a father. I saw my mother going through so much shit. I don't want you to go through all that. I want to be a father to my child. Someone I never had."

You took a moment to fully digest what he just said. He waited anxiously for an answer. 

"Look, I will have a baby soon, a baby who can become attached. If they become attached to you and then you later decide that you don't want to do this... I believe that is worse. So, while I do appreciate your concerns, I was nothing more to you than a quick fuck. It is... unfortunate, that I got pregnant, but as I said it is something I am dealing with. So, please, if you don't mean it, don't get involved. You might think now that you want to be a part of this because you pity me or whatever, but if you change your mind..."

"I don't want to change my mind. Yes, it was meant to be a one-night stand but I can't ignore a child. My child. I'm not a coward. I want to be a part of the life of this little one." 

You looked into his eyes, trying to figure him out. He looked serious. Maybe he really had a change of heart during the last couple months. You pulled out your wallet and a picture from it. You handed it to him.

He looked at the ultrasound.

"I'm currently 11 weeks along. The baby is 41mm long. The doctor said it's the size of a fig. We don't know the gender just yet, but they are healthy."

"Healthy. Good." he wanted to hand back the photo but you didn't take it.

"I have more at home, you can have that. I have a check-up next week, you could come if you have time."

"I'll be there."

You stood up and were about to walk away when you turned to look at him.

"If you don't come next week. I mean without a good reason, I don't want you to come after. I am already very attached to this little fig, and I don't want them hurt."

"I'll be there, text me the time and place."

You nodded before saying goodbye and walking away.

He stayed, looking at the picture.

"My little fig." he smiled before he too, headed home.

---

Honestly, you were shocked to see him at the doctor's the next week. 

Every time he showed up.

He started to take you out to eat afterwards and started to ask more and more questions.

Billy asked you to move into his place which you didn't want but you did go over to his place many times.

You spent most of your weekends there. And lately, you even spent your nights there. In a separate room, but you did stay.

"What are you doing?"

"Shhhh! I heard babies can hear voices, I'm talking to them so they would recognize me when they are born." you shook your head as you continued to look at stuff on your phone. Subconsciously, one of your hands found his hair. You started to run your fingers through his locks as he continued to softly speak to the baby.

"We should get married." you nearly threw your phone at the TV.

"What?" you sat up so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash. He moved with you as he sat in front of you. The expression on his face was as serious as ever.

"You heard me. Marry me?"

"Why would I... What? No. Just because of the baby? That is-"

"Logical. We get married, you take my last name and the baby does too. It is logical."

"Did you hit your head or something?"

"What? Why?"

"You? Marriage?"

"Yes."

"Like in the old days? You get the woman pregnant and so you have to marry her?"

"I was thinking more about the baby and you. In case something happens to me, you two would be good on money."

"I don't want your money."

"I know you don't, I am giving it to you and the baby. We don't have to, but you can think about it."

"I honestly don't know."

"I know you probably wanted to marry out of love, fuck I never wanted to get married but here I am. With a baby on the way and with you. You are such an amazing girl, Y/N. I'm happy that you are the mother of my baby."

'"I'm very glad to hear that Billy, however, marriage is a big thing. Now don't get me wrong I have heard about people getting married for less and I'm not the biggest in the love department either. I truly believe you should marry someone you can see yourself for the rest of your life with and not be crazy in love with them but..."

"You told me this before. You said 'but you still believe that there should be love for marriage and not like love between friends.' And then you started crying because you couldn't explain yourself fully and I had to get you ice cream."

"Exactly."

"What would make you want to marry me?"

You placed your hand on his cheek.

"You might think now that its a good idea. You might think now that you would want me by your side forever, but I know Billy that one day, you would look at me and be disappointed that you married me because of our baby. One day you will be in a club, surrounded by girls and drinks and you won't think of me or our child, I want a loyal husband, and I wouldn't want you to throw the accusation at me, saying that you only married me for the baby and you would end up hating me."

"You believe that would happen? That I would regret it all and I would... what? Blame you for it?"

"Yes."

"You think that lowly of me?"

"No, I think that lowly of myself." you let out a sigh. "Look Billy, tell me that we are not here just because of the baby. You wouldn't be here if I wasn't pregnant. You would be out there as you were before. You don't want me, you want the baby. And that is completely fine. And it is all I can ask for. For you to love the kid. That's it."

"But I do love you. You are the mother of my child. How can I not?"

"Billy, please. You only care for me because of the baby. And I know that and it's okay."

Billy wanted to tell you that it wasn't true. That he truly cared for you. More than you could imagine.

He wanted to lift all of your insecurities and show you just how amazing you were.

But he did. Because he was afraid. 

Not of losing his old life, but of losing you. 

If you didn't believe him like this, he will prove his love in other ways.

---

You smiled as you saw the roses on the table. They looked amazing. 

Beautiful white roses with a little note.

You debated picking it up and reading it until you saw your name on the paper.

'To my beautiful wife' it read on the inside and it made you scoff.

Since when did he become such a romantic?

You let out a long sigh. 

Billy was trying way too hard. You were afraid one day he will realize this is not what he wants and just pack up and leave.

You were terrified that he will make you get used to his closeness and then pull away, leaving you to fall alone.

You really tried to keep your distance, to not fall in love or to not harbour feelings that would hurt you.

You really tried but it was very difficult because each time you saw his eyes sparkle as he looked at you, each time at the doctor's when he asked something about you or the baby, it made you feel so safe and happy.

When he asked you to marry him, you were ready to say yes. It was your first thought when he asked the question but then you realized your situation.

He doesn't love you to get married. He wants the baby around and that's fine.

You felt like you were lulling yourself into false realities and you couldn't let that happen.

Not with you becoming a mother.

Not with you knowing about his past. It felt like wherever you went you could see girls staring at you, eyeing you up and down. The dark thought of who he had slept with was always in the back of your head.

You knew you should let it go.

But it is easier said than done. 

You were making lunch when Billy arrived home.

"Here you are. I actually wanted to go out for food, but I guess its too late now."

"Yeah, maybe tomorrow. Thank you for the flowers." you gave him a small smile.

"Did you like it?"

"Yes, they are beautiful."

"And the card?" 

"Card?"

"Yes, wrote it myself actually. Did you like it?"

You turned back to the oven and got the pan out. Billy only shook his head as he smirked before he left to take a quick shower.

Soon, he joined you at the table.

Eating the chicken you made.

"I have an appointment tomorrow."

"I know. It's baby gender time." he smiled.

"Yeah. What would you prefer? A boy or a girl?"

"Either is fine really. What about you?"

"I thought I wanted a son, but lately I have been imagining a little girl and I realized I would be fine with any really."

"Should we have one of those crazy gender reveal parties?"

"Oh gosh, no! You know I hate to be the centre of attention. I'm fine if the doctor tells us."

"Just an idea. Then I can at least finish their room."

"Oh, I did order more things. I wanted to wait for you with the furniture though. Since you want to paint the room."

"We will know the gender tomorrow, so I can paint this weekend, then we can look at furniture and finish it up in a couple weeks." he nodded. "We are a good team, Y/N."

"Yeah, we are." you agreed as you finished your chicken and went to wash your plates.

Soon, you felt his arms move around you as you put the dishes to dry.

The way he held you, you let yourself imagine what if he loved you. What if the baby wasn't an accident? What if he wanted to be here for you?

"Y/N, marry me."

"Billy," you groaned as you turned in his arms, seeing the serious expression on his face you fell silent.

"I am serious. I love you both so much, please, marry me." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, it was a jewellery box so it had to be a ring. And as he opened it, sure enough, it was. A rather expensive looking one at that. "I want to give you and our child the world. I want us to be a real family. Would you marry me?" You needed a moment to think.

"Yes. I will marry you." he smiled as he placed the ring on your finger, pulling you in for a breath-taking kiss.

"I love you so much." he said as his lips moved to your neck. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs as he lifted you and carried you to the bedroom.

"I love you too," you whispered to him as he began to remove your clothes, kissing your baby bump.

His eyes were filled with love, you couldn't look away.

---

The next day, you lay on the examination table with butterflies in your stomach.

You will finally know if you are having a girl or a boy.

Billy stood beside you, holding your hand as he smiled.

"As you can see, the head, two little hands and legs." the doctor said pointing everything out on the screen. "Are we ready to know the gender?"

"Yes." you said as Billy squeezed your hand.

"Let's see... Looks to be a little girl." she said as you looked at Billy whose eyes were glued to the monitor, smiling softly to himself.

"Then we can get the pink shoes you have been eyeing." you said as he finally looked at you.

During a recent trip to the mall, you found him in the kid's section when you were looking for some clothes. You found him standing there with a pink princess shoe in his hand as he smiled at the pink glittery object.

"Looks like we can." he said before he moved to place a kiss on your forehead.

You were really glad you judged him wrong.

You were glad he turned out to be a loving person and he grew into his potential. You knew he will be an amazing father and husband. 

Judging by the small smile on his face, it said it all.

The little girl had him wrapped around her tiny little fingers and she wasn't even born yet.

When the doctor left to print out the photos for you, he turned to you, kissing your lips.

"I love you so much." he said before moving back to look at the screen. In the end, it was Billy who became attached to you and your daughter. You felt a wave of happiness wash over you as all of your insecurities and worries left your body.

All that was left was happiness. 

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[our-alterous-experience]

if you dont mind explaining, what is alterous? (I hope I spelled that right)

Alterous! Aka Alterous Attraction is a type of attraction that does not fit within the boundaries of strictly romantic or platonic labels. For some it may be completely non romantic and non platonic but a separate kind of love within the larger spectrum. It’s kinda like the nonbinary/agender spectrum of attraction.

Sometimes alterous attraction can be very platonic/friendship based where they may never want to partner with whoever the user feels the feelings towards. They may also not want to be physically affectionate, or they may want to very physically affectionate. (I.e. someone may be aro allosexual and grow a strong bond with someone that is more than friends but definitely not romantic). That being said there are definitely QPR’s that are alterous and that’s apart of their queerplatonic attraction.

Sometimes alterous attraction can be very “romantic” or partnering based. Wanting to go on dates, being very physically affectionate (preferring hugs, kisses, cuddles, sex), investing in a home together, possibly having kids together, getting tax benefits off of each other.

Of course this is a veryyyyyyy like. rigid way to view relationships. Like platonic is just One Thing and romantic is just One Thing. you could do either of these things in whatever relationship you are in. The main defining feature is that the feelings are not as simple as being able to be prescribed to “platonic” or “romantic” labels. It may have bits and pieces of one of those things, it may have a bit of everything and more. it may have no platonic or romance involved. And this is without even including polyamorous alterous experiences. But those are just as vast as well!!

Coined in 2015 on tumblr it’s one of those terms that I’m glad stuck around until my lil aro egg ass found once i had cracked and I was like holy shit. This is what I’ve been feeling. Thankfully this also helped me come out as aplatonic bc i…. i don’t go there sisters im so sorry. It’s all just alterous love to me.

[iliiuan]

I'm to the point where Gawyn actually makes a decision, and a lot of the criticism he receives seems misplaced to me. He makes shit choices because he has shit information because the women he trusts to provide him with information refuse to communicate. Elayne, then Siuan, and then Egwene all misused him.

He followed Elayne to Tar Valon and undertook his training there, doing his duty without complaint. Then his sister vanished. His mom freaked out. He worried, and also BLAMED HIMSELF.

When Elayne returned, I don't remember if she even bothered to say 'hi' in his direction before running off again. Now he's really worried. Siuan won't tell him anything. Min won't tell him anything. He's trying to keep Morgase from blowing a gasket. Galad's joining the Whitecloaks. And then... there's a coup. Siuan, having given him exactly zero reason to trust or back her, he knew Elaida as a respected advisor, and he thought that her ascent was legal. He also thought that he would be able to get the information he wanted out of Siuan. All of this makes sense.

Then he stumbles. The change in Amyrlin doesn't fix his problems. He still doesn't know where his sister is. He lets Min rescue Siuan (and Leane and Logain). I don't remember his reasoning, probably because it wasn't very good. This particular point was all him.

Now he has his Younglings, and Elaida wants him disappeared, and he's sent on the mission to scoop up the Dragon Reborn for Elaida. He's heard rumor that Rand murdered his mom, maybe his sister as well, and he has a bloodlust for revenge. All of this is really reasonable, frankly. Then he runs into Egwene.

Egwene has the power to divert Gawyn from his path of doom, but she instead chooses to ignore him (in the political sense) and withhold information from him, while also sort of using him as a spy but not very well. Instead of using her rather impressive people skills to push him onto a healthy path, she uses him for some snogging and makes him promise not to harm the person who is supposed to save the world. She doesn't tell him where Elayne is. She doesn't give him any evidence about Morgase beyond being a character witness for Rand. She doesn't explain about the fractured tower, nor emphasize her allegiance to the rebel faction. She makes no effort whatsoever to sway him to her side, to even try to convince him to abandon Elaida. She doesn't even respect him enough to read him in as a spy for her. She also seems to think that a low-level soldier will be able to protect Rand from Aes Sedai. You know the ones, the women who can channel? Yeah. Not fucking likely.

So off he goes, swimming with his misperceptions, making ever more desperate decisions, experiencing increasing trauma and stress, until he finally comes to his senses and seeks out Egwene's side.

What I'm really trying to emphasize here is that Egwene could have had him on her side beginning in Cairhien, but she couldn't be arsed.

So when he goes back to her, and people criticize her for being with his loser self, my heart deflates a little. He deserves so much better. Even if he is a loser.

I also find the claim that Gawyn exemplifies toxic masculinity to be backwards. If anything, Elayne and Egwene are the ones displaying the traits usually associated with toxic masculinity: arrogance, withholding information or training, refusing help and then being upset when the helper isn't around, seeing the opposite sex as deficient (this one is only Egwene), acting invincible/infallible, not listening to good advice because of the gender of the person giving it ... you see? Don't be fooled by his masculine-coded job of bodyguard; everything else about the gender roles in his world are reversed from ours. He has a prescribed support role, and when he can't fulfill it, he becomes lost. He doesn't get to determine his destiny, so he doesn't train in how to make life decisions, but rather in how to follow orders and to walk his prescribed path.

So much about Gawyn's journey matches with the experience of women in our world who were raised and trained to be homemakers, but then had to claw their way out of abusive relationships, or find meaning after infertility, or push forward as a single parent after being abandoned by a husband or family.

So yeah, I have a really difficult time accepting a lot of the scorn he gets, especially from supposedly feminist critique.

[bandydear]

I’ve been reading your tlgbf tlgbl fic, and am absolutely obsessed!! Where did you get the inspirations for dyke Jackie? I love how you’ve written her and her queerness

So, I prescribe to the theory that Jackie had some inclinations about her homosexuality out there in the wild and that's why she's parading around in sweater vests and limp wrists. That the high femme presentation we see in the pilot is more of a gender and social performance than who she is. And, I explored the people pleaser elements that lingered behind in that.

She compliments Nat in the Pilot that she admires how true to herself Natalie is which means that Jackie is not true to herself. She feels the pressure of expectation and lives within that expectation instead of her truth. We are never given a "truth that could crash an airplane" from Jackie. What she says is that she used to sneak downstairs and watch The Color of Night so she could pause it at Bruce Willis's wang.

For research for the fic, I watched Color of Night (the shit I do for art...). Bruce Willis's flaccid dong is there for like, five frames. And, it's not impressive like she claims it to be. You know what that movie actually has a lot of? Naked women and lesbian sex. Jackie's gay.

I know a lot of butch/futch/even high femme dykes who began their journeys presenting heterofemme realness and rejected it when they made their way down the rainbow brick road. Jackie very much gives me those vibes. Like, she has gay energy, but also a very "useless gay man" energy.

I think that finding out "x amount" of her teammates are some kind of queer and that the Very Hetero Sport she's been shielding herself with is uhhhhh Not That is part of what leads her down the path of self-discovery.

She's also shredded. Jackie canonically has an 8-pack and that's interesting because in the 90's, muscle tone was seen as something undesirable for women. (Now, I know that the show is made Now, where the aesthetic ideals are different, but if it's in the text it counts.)

Anyway, this has all been said before in other tumblr posts about Jackie being gay. I'm sure you're asking about why I wrote her as a futch service top instead of say, a femme pillow princess?

It has to do with her character arc. In S1 of Yellowjackets, Jackie's arc is one of nihilism and regression. The only thing that is keeping her alive in this survival situation is her love for Shauna, and when she learns of Shauna's resentment, she loses the will to live. Literally. Dies of a broken heart.

Jackie cannot survive in an environment without love. And, she struggles with survival instincts in general. Which is what makes her a great foil to Nat, who cannot help but survive, and, ironically, dies in S2 of too much love. The moment Nat stopped being cynical and nihilistic she doomed herself.

Two characters in direct opposition cannot exist so therefore they must either kill one or the other other--or change each other to live in harmony. I chose the latter. Jackie softens Nat and Nat hardens Jackie. They meet in the middle. If Jackie becomes hard, and becomes someone who can survive, what does that look like? What's the funniest possible way to get to this point?

Make Jackie the one who builds the shelter. Take this ineffectual, limp wristed twink and show her the way towards self-sufficiency through trades. Her home was broken beyond repair, so she learns how to fix it on her own. The literal is metaphorical and the metaphorical is literal.

So, now that I've explained:

Why Jackie is gay

Why Jackie fixes houses

Now, "why a service top"?

I touch on it in the text, but I don't think she's solely that. I do think that even after coming out, if she was experimenting with people who weren't Shauna she wouldn't allow herself to be physically vulnerable with them. It would cause a panic attack. She has a very Protestant energy and receiving pleasure as a part of sex would probably give her like 5 different mental breaks.

Jackie doesn't enjoy sex with Jeff (oral and hand stuff count as sex) not just because she's gay, but because she's too self-aware of how she's being perceived to enjoy her body.

On the other hand, she is a chronic people pleaser--though Lazy, so I knew she couldn't jump into this with both feet. If Jackie had slept with the girl in chapter 1 it wouldn't have gone well, and it would have been super awkward and unsatisfying for both parties. It's the envy at seeing Nat enjoying herself, and finally being in a safe space to relax a little that allows her to explore sensuality. Still, I don't think she'd let herself be touched in the same way.

If she had, as planned, shared a room with Shauna at Rutgers, I could see her being in a much more comfortable sexual role. Because Shauna was her safe space. But, I could also see her bringing a lot of her own baggage into that situation, and it quickly becoming toxic. I don't think they'd work romantically out of their "platonic" relationship in school, because it had already broken and festered by the Pilot.

Anyway! That's the impetus for Jackie's dykery. I hope that clarified some things. There are other folks out there who have come away with other, valid, and cool conclusions, but these are the ones I came to with my own research and experience. Thanks again for asking!

[clatterbane]

The hard-earned medical PTSD around the diabetes has actually been gnawing at me pretty hard again. I got assigned to a new endocrinologist, since the one I was seeing moved back to Croatia.

So, this one already just switched my fast-acting insulin prescription to a cheaper generic without saying anything--which would be fine, except there were actual dosage reasons that I was prescribed the other format to begin with. I figured I might be able to get that fixed through the portal, explaining the deal there--but, there's not really much point!

Because I then got an appointment e-summons for the end of the month, with a confusing bloodwork note attached. (They're not sending a physical form this time? It's somehow supposed to be available digitally?! Where and how, or wtf to do at all, is not explained. This is the first time ever for this to come up, and I've gotten too much blood drawn here!)

I mean, I knew this was coming at some point. I would have to see whatever endo they gave me, which is sobering enough in itself. Unknown doctors are always enough of a threat to your life and wellbeing--even more so when they're gatekeeping important shit like insulin--much less when you're already feeling jerked around in a couple of ways before you've even met them.

That is sadly not exaggeration. Source: My entire medical history around diabetes back in the UK. Didn't make it out with both legs, and I'm only alive because I am so damned stubborn.

Will this one be a giant asshole? That remains to be seen. Have I been nervous about the idea of going in to find out since I got the appointment notice? You betcha.

I just want them to keep out of my way and reliably give me my insulin. Up to this point, they have mostly been doing that because whatever I've been doing has consistently led to unexpectedly good numbers. I really hope this is not going to be one of the controlling ones who looks for things to browbeat you over (even if it's their own stupid assumptions about What You're Doing All Wrong), tries to ride your ass about your weight and/or food intake compared to whatever they have decided is Right, decides to interrogate you about every random out-of-range reading they spot over the past 6 months (what bad choices were you making at 4:06 p.m. on February 5?), and/or just goes changing treatments that are working great around for no good reason. There are so many other shitty possibilities, but those do seem to be common diabetes failure modes. Regardless of type.

At any rate, we shouldn't always have to be ready for some kind of fight, just going into the damned doctor's office. This should not have such a high chance of turning adversarial. Just trying to stay alive and healthy as possible here, thanks!

[joonslfttiddie]

HOME

Chapter 47: Blindsided...

💜Fic Pairing: OT7 x OFC

💜AU/Genre: Reverse Harem/Polyfidelity/Ghosts/AMBW

💜Warnings: Adult Language/Adult Content/Murder/Blood/Attack by stalker/Strangulation/Magik/Spells/Rituals

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 6,544

Another POV

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Tell him what exactly? What is there to tell? I’m going to pursue Tia…point, blank, period. It’s common for younger siblings to have a crush on older siblings' partners, so he’ll get over it. Plus, I don’t have to explain myself to Tony. Judging by our conversation the other day, I think he knows how I feel about her.” There is a short pause before Jason asks, “So, is there something you want to tell me?”

Their family had warned Brandon that his hatred for Tony would come back to bite him in the ass. He was warned that Tony would get enough of his mistreatment and eventually get his lick back. It seems like Tony accumulated all of the licks he’s ever owed Brandon and hit him all at once. He knew exactly what he was doing when he dropped that bomb, telling Jason about things he’d witnessed. He told him all about the shit Brandon was saying to his crew, all about the text messages and pictures, and about the videos Brandon and Tia exchanged.

“Bro, what?” Brandon’s heart is thumping hard against his throat, and he’s getting noticeably uncomfortable. Jason's tone clearly indicates that he’s not himself right now. This is the side of him that Brandon doesn't like.

“Don’t ‘what’ me, bitch. Was there anything going on between you and Tia? Is there any truth to what Tony said?” 

“I mean, we spoke a bit, but it wasn't nothing crazy. Why? What did the motherfucker say?”

“If you’re innocent, why does what he said matter?” Jason stands up from Brandon’s bed, circling him like a lion prowling on its prey. “If you’re innocent, let me see your phone. Let me see for myself,” he says as he stops, standing close to Brandon’s face. Too close… he can feel the warmth of his breath on his skin. His breathing is deep, flowing through flared nostrils.

“Jason, why are you acting like this, man? Did you take your meds?”

“I’M NOT FUCKING CRAZY, BRANDON!”

“Hey, hey, hey…whoa! Okay, man,” Brandon says with his hands up in surrender. “I’m not saying you are, I just asked a simple question.”

“I told you, I don’t need that shit. It makes me feel numb, like I’m not living…just existing. I’m fine…I feel better, and I think even more clearly without it. JUST BECAUSE I TAKE IT SOMETIMES DOESN’T MAKE YOU BETTER THAN ME!”

“Alright, man. I’m not better than you. You got it. Let’s just drop it, okay.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do!” Jason pushes his brother hard, his back slamming against the edge of the door’s frame. “Let me see your fucking phone, B.”

“Jason, stop this! There’s nothing to see on my phone, bro.” Brandon, reaching back to soothe the ache in his back, lies knowing that he’s stupidly saved every message and attachment, and if Jason catches a glimpse of anything between him and Tia, he will flip completely the fuck out.

It is rare to see Brandon afraid, shrinking under the scrutiny of his brother’s demented gaze. Even more rare for him to concede for that matter. But this has always been their dynamic; Jason would stop taking the medicine he was prescribed as a teenager for his ‘episodes’, for when he gets angry. During this time, he seems to target Brandon, bullying him and treating him the way Brandon treats Tony. With Brandon still refusing to surrender his device, Jason says, “Bet.”

That one word sends a terrifying chill through Brandon’s body, knowing how unpredictable, impulsive, and violent Jason can be when he is unmedicated. If Jason saw the filth he had sent to Tia or received, no matter how long ago, he would die today. Even though he hates Tony, Brandon is thankful he is not here, being sent away to his mother’s side of the family the day after nearly being caught at Tia’s house again. Jason is damn near uncontrollable when he gets like this; leads to someone dying, or  someone being murdered.

Before Jason can act on his unspoken threat, sirens can be heard coming closer to the house. The flashing lights from the police cars streak across the bedroom walls as the cars kick up dirt to park in front of their residence. Jason makes a break for it, dashing up the hall, out the back door, and through the wooded area behind their house. Brandon, more afraid of what Jason is capable of, stays at the house and waits for the barrage of policemen to move in as he chooses to deal with them rather than his brother.

Jimin’s POV

The house has been eerily quiet and seems to have come to a standstill. Everyone is home, but as I’m gathering evidence from Namjoon and Tia’s bloody clothes and the doorbell camera footage, no one can be seen or heard. I guess that’s to be expected because of the way I’m feeling right now. I can’t really blame the others for being distant either. Downstairs, everything's in its place, no longer showing any proof of the traumatic event that took place just hours ago. I text the family group chat, not really expecting a response, but I let everyone know that I’m leaving.

Jimin: I’ll be right back. Running down to the precinct to holla at Detective Lopez.

There is no response, but everyone acknowledges by giving a thumbs up. This feels so strange. The love between us seems to be suspended in the air, and how it will fall is unknown. I feel so heavy, and I’m admittedly pissed. I can only imagine how everyone else must be feeling.

Should I have said something? Should I have mentioned what Tia told me to the others? Maybe we could’ve prevented all this shit. Maybe they would’ve been able to prepare and feel less blindsided, at least mentally.

As if attempting to empty the thoughts from my mind, I shake my head to grab my keys, and then I walk through the foyer. At the front door, I pause, taking in the details of the wooden floor beneath my feet. It’s as if nothing happened, but I take notice of the feeling that comes over me while in this area. Nausea, pride, horror, anger, relief…all at once. I gotta get the fuck out of here.

Once I’m at the station, I have to sit and wait for Detective Lopez after handing off the evidence to the police evidence technician. The crime scene investigators trusted that I would bring Tia and Namjoon’s bloody clothing untampered with, satisfied with the pictures they were able to get of the two still wearing them while at the house. Jason and his brothers are sloppy criminals, making this a pretty open and shut case; that and Tia’s quick thinking to alert officers before things went down.

“Park,” the detective calls as she rounds the corner. “Sorry to keep you waiting. How is she doing? I can’t imagine what she’s just been through.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. She doesn’t want to talk about it,” I say, then I grit my teeth to avoid saying something else I may regret. Just hold it in. Hold it. “This has been a rough year for her, that’s for sure.”

“I bet. Thanks again for bringing over the clothes and footage. And, of course, this stays between us as this is not protocol. Jungkook asked for a favor, and I didn’t want Tia to have to come down here after everything.”

“Yea, yea…no problem. We appreciate your consideration. So, what’s gonna happen to the guy that shot him?”

“Well, we had to bring him in for questioning, but the footage from the doorbell cam and the statements you all provided will clear him. Today has been wild! Officers brought Brandon in as Jason was going to Tia’s place…your place?”

I am usually amused at people’s reactions regarding our untraditional relationship and thankful when they are understanding, but I’m too shaken to acknowledge it this time.

“Wait, what?! What has he said?”

“Just that Jason was off his meds. He said he figured he would be going to your house but didn’t expect him to attack her like that. He is usually pretty violent when unmedicated but said that Jason had a thing for her.”

“Again…what? I thought it was Tony.”

“Your girl is popular. All three brothers were interested.”

I stand there wide-eyed and speechless while Lopez nods as if reiterating her last statement. Poor Tia. While I am the angriest I’ve been in a hot minute, I gotta let this shit go. I need to get back to her. 

“Damn. Alright, thanks again. I’m gonna go ahead and get back to the house. I’m sure JK will be in contact with you soon.”

“No problem. I hope you all can finally get some rest with one brother gone, one here, and the other being picked up right about now.”

“I hope so too-” I start before I’m interrupted by Lopez.

“Hey, here comes our hero,” she whispers to me with a nudge of her elbow.

I look toward her gaze and see a tall, broad-shouldered man with his head hanging low as he’s wringing his jacket nervously in his trembling hands. He flashes a somber smile that only reaches one corner of his lips. Something in the pit of my stomach flips, and my heart pounds. I just want to hug him and protect him. To make it all better.

Is this gratitude for saving my girl or something else?

Tia’s POV

The house is quiet, but I know everyone is here except Jimin. I feel weird, or maybe this is normal after a traumatic event, but I don’t feel like myself. I’ve been sitting here in the theater for a while…not looking at my phone or the projector screen. I'm just staring into nothingness, mind empty, unsure if this is real life. I feel like I’m here, but I’m not here; teetering on the edge of reality and someplace else. Not that I’m having auditory hallucinations, but I’m hearing something. No, I’m feeling something, and it’s on repeat. I can’t quite make out the signal, and the more frustrated I get while trying to decipher whatever this is, the more encrypted it gets. I’m nearing the fringe of tears before I give up.

FUCK IT!

“Tia.”

“Mom?!”

When I look up, I’m back under that tree whose branches twist and coil like the curls in my hair, and I’m sitting next to my mother. I instantly burst into tears and lay my head on her lap.

“I know, baby, I know,” she says and begins petting my head. “It’s been a tough day, and I’m sure it’s been traumatic, but you’re not done. You’ll need to do a couple of things, and then you’ll be all done. You’re right at the end, and you’re doing so well.”

“Please, help me, mom. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, and I am right here…I’m always with you. And, my dear, you already know what to do. But, I will sit with you for a bit longer, then you have to finish this.”

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to do,” I sob into her dress, shaking my head.

“Tia, you do. Now, you can cry and let it all out, but then you have to get back to it. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and only you can end this. It has to be you.”

Laying in my mom’s lap, I slowly come back to myself and stop crying but remain there. We don’t speak as she caresses my hair, and we just sit in comfortable silence. I look up to her as she smiles down at me. I notice a woman appears behind her, adorned with a similar expression that beams down at me from over my mom’s shoulder. The woman is me, but she’s not me. She looks like me, almost identical, but I can sense she’s someone else; someone I feel very strongly connected to. 

She winks at me, and in what only seems like seconds, I find that I’m waking up on the theater chair, fully rested and filled with determination and calm. ‘Limited power. Do the work. Unstoppable.’ This message, clear as day, is on a loop, but I do not know what it means. However, there’s suddenly an epiphany…knowledge that I didn’t know before that is coming forth. I know what I need to do at this particular moment. 

Immediately, I grab my phone and text a list of items to Jimin in hopes he can grab them before coming home. He replies back to me, letting me know he will grab the items, so I run up to the kitchen to prepare what I already have. 

After filling a large pot about halfway, I turn on the flame. As it’s heating up, I sprinkle in a bit of sea salt before moving to the side to slice a lemon and a grapefruit, adding half of each to the water. Then, I drop in a large tea bag that I’ve filled with basil, thyme, a few bay leaves, rosemary, cloves, mullein, and cinnamon sticks. I put the remaining slices of lemon and grapefruit into the air fryer to dehydrate them. The smell that fills the kitchen is sweet and familiar, even more so after I add in a few drops of lavender and bergamot essential oils to my cauldron. I allow the concoction to simmer for approximately 25-30 minutes, until the water begins to take on an amber hue. I turn off the fire, allowing it to steep and cool for just a moment.

As that sits, I add the same herbs to a cup I use to blend smoothies. Just as the air fryer beeps to signal that the lemon and grapefruit are done, I hear Jimin coming inside, the bag rustling in his hand.

“Babe?!”

“I’m in here,” I attempt to yell back to him, but my voice is more gruff than usual, and my throat is sore.

“Something smells good,” he says when his handsome face emerges into the kitchen. His smile seems disingenuous, and his mood is noticeably flat. He places the bag on the island next to the stove while peering into the pot. What are you making, tea?”

“It smells like it could be, huh? But no, I’m making a floor wash,” I push out, voice cracking like a prepubescent boy. “I need to clean the foyer,” I tell him as his arms wrap around my waist, squeezing and pulling me in tightly against his body.

He clears his throat and says, “The professionals cleaned it earlier. It looks spotless.”

“Yea, I know. They cleaned the surface but I need to do a deeper cleanse. A spiritual cleanse.”

“Oooooooh, got cha. So, is this what you needed this other stuff for?”

I reach for the bag and pull out some of its contents: dried calendula flowers, hyssop, Epsom salt, dried eucalyptus, nettle, and dried lotus flowers. Thankfully, the old metaphysical store my mother frequented isn’t far from our house.

“I’m going to do a spiritual bath to cleanse myself with this stuff and make a smoke bowl with some of it.”

“The lady at the shop told me to tell you everything will be fine,” he informs me while resting his chin on my shoulder. “I asked how she knew, and she said that she could tell by the items you requested. She even put a few incense sticks in for free.”

“Awww… how sweet,” I say, loving how gifted individuals in these areas can understand each other on another level. Taking the items from the bag, I lift the sticks up separately to my nose, then allow Jimin to smell. “Sage, dragon’s blood, frankincense, and myrrh. She definitely knows the vibes.”

With him still attached, I add the eucalyptus, lemons, and grapefruit to the cup and blend them down into small fragments. Then, I pour that into a large mason jar before blending the nettle, calendula, bay leaves, hyssop, and lotus. After adding most of that to the jar, I cover the ingredients with the Epsom salt, a few drops of the essential oils, and give it a good shake. I reach into the cabinet to grab a smudge bowl that mom used to use to burn herbs. It is small, maybe the size of one cupped hand, and put the rest of the herbs in it.

Pushing that all aside for later, I carefully remove the sachet from the hot liquid while speaking my intentions over the water, followed by an incantation that I don’t think is coming from me. The words seem to flow, as if being spoken through me by someone or something else, but I close my eyes and relax, allowing it to come over me as my breath wafts into the mixture blowing the steam as I speak.

“I call upon my ancestors and guides from north, south, west, and east,

Protect our home from evil; send it back and away from me.

I banish all negativity, curses, and dangers seen and unseen,

Spreading love, protection, and positivity over my home and my family like the water as I clean.

As I will it, so mote it be,

Àse.

Thank you,

May you go in peace.”

“That was beautiful, baby,” Jimin says, then kisses my neck, staying there for a moment. He sniffles then says, “So beautiful.”

“Thanks! I don’t really know where it came from, though. They don’t seem like my words. They just sort of flowed out.”

“Maybe it was just your heart overtaking your mind. Don’t you always say to lead with love?”

“Now that…that was beautiful,” I say, and we both let out a half-hearted chuckle, although my intent was not to be funny. “I needed to hear that.” His statement makes me feel more confident about getting out of my head and following my intuition.

“Are you about to clean now? Is this something I can help with?”

“No, I think I got it.”

“Yeah? Okay.” He detaches himself from me to lean against the adjacent countertop, arms folded across his chest as his eyes trace the floor, avoiding eye contact. “Look, I know you said earlier that you weren’t ready to talk. I understand, but I was hoping to speak with you about today. It’s just that-.”

“Baby, I know. I can feel the same frequency coming from all of you. Let me do this first, and then we can all talk as a family,” I request, still riding the high of my new-found mission, completely immersed in my task.

“Yeah. Okay,” he says, sounding different from his previous response. This one lacked tenderness and care and oozed with sarcasm and resentment.

“Jimin, I know you’re upset. You all are in some way, shape, or form, but let me do this first. Please,” I beg while being pulled to complete my tasks.

“Do what you gotta do, Tia.”

Tia??? Not beautiful? Wow, so, he’s MAD mad.

“Wow, are you serious right now?”

“What? I said go ahead. Be careful. I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” he announces before pushing himself from the island to go upstairs. 

I can’t help but scoff as he walks past me, knowing his statement is not half as carefree as he’s trying to portray. The vibes are apparent. Please, I could feel the tension in how he held me, in the tone of his voice, all in an attempt to mimic his typical self.

Are you fucking serious right now?! Ain’t no fucking way he’s mad that I’m not ready to talk. I know he had a traumatic day, but mine wasn’t exactly a walk in the park either. I’M the one that was stalked. I’M the one that was attacked. I’M the one that was pinned under a man as he had his fucking head blown off. I mean, it didn’t come off, I don’t think….bitch, focus.

I continue what I’m doing while ranting to myself, becoming noticeably more irritated the more I think about it, wanting nothing more than to storm up the stairs and curse him the fuck out for treating me this way. But I don’t. I’m trying to do better…be better, not only for myself, but for them. I’ll finish up here while keeping my thoughts to myself.

Bitch, calm down. They’ve been through a lot, too! Not only today, but dealing with all my shit this whole time. THEY were here for me when I was stalked. THEY were here for me when I was poisoned. THEY were here for me when I was attacked. And they took care of me the whole time. I gotta stop being selfish and be more considerate of my loves.

Lead with love… lead with love… lead with love.

I repeat this mantra mentally while doing breathing exercises. Still breathing and chanting as I grab my mop and bucket from the supply closet near the basement door. Slowly and carefully, I transfer the sweet, light brown water to the bucket. After returning the pot to the stove, I made sure to grab a couple of the incense from the counter, place the bottom of the stick between my teeth to free my hands, and lug the bucket into the foyer. Here, I grab the matches from the console table drawer and light the incense sticks the shop owner gifted. 

Then, I begin to repeat my incantation as I swish the mop around in the water, taking notice of how my body is reacting to being back in this area. My throat is already scratchy, uncomfortable as I force my raspy voice out, but I’m having to work even harder than just a few moments ago. I feel hot with sweat beginning to cause my shirt to stick to my back and my mouth is extra moist. I feel like I’m going to be sick. It feels like my throat is tightening and it’s getting harder to breathe, just like I felt earlier with Jason straddling my frame, attempting to choke the life from me.

Something doesn’t want me to do this. It knows my intentions.

Nevertheless, I spin the excess water from my mop and plop it on the hardwood. Ignoring my lightheadedness and the way my face has begun to tingle as if losing blood circulation, I continue and swirl the mixture counterclockwise, ceaselessly speaking the spell:

“I call upon my ancestors and guides from north, south, west, and east,

Protect our home from evil; send it back and away from me.

I banish all negativity, curses, and dangers seen and unseen,

Spreading love, protection, and positivity over my home and my family like the water as I clean. (x9)

As I will it, so mote it be,

Àse.

Thank you,

May you go in peace.”

Again, dunking the mop into the steaming water, then I begin to mop the entire foyer, only moving counterclockwise to dispel the dark, heavy, curse-like energy out of our house. Suddenly, my mind shows me where the men have been in my home. My vision goes dark, only able to see a silhouette of where Jason’s body was on the floor and footprints from their previous visits glowing neon red. Fervently, I begin to clean with purpose, targeting the indicated areas and with each swipe of my mop, I watch the figure and footprints ignite into flame before disappearing; only a small cloud of smoke is left in its wake.

A calming energy seems to be here with me and words are spilling from my mouth, my body seems to be moving on its own. Whatever or whomever is here is helping me, giving me more energy and strength to fight. The pressure on my windpipe is damn near insufferable and I find myself panting and becoming more light headed by the second. 

Dunk. Swish. Spin, Mop. Even as I’m almost gasping for air, I make my way into the kitchen, cleaning the shoe prints from the ceramic tiles, removing all of the negative energy those men brought into our house.

Taehyung’s POV

The scents coming from downstairs smell comforting and sweet. Judging by how Jimin stomps up the stairs, I’d say his mood is quite the opposite. Laying on the bed in our shared room, I ask, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What? I’m fine.”

Anyone could see that he is upset from the flush of his cheeks, how his nostrils dilate, and the redness of his eyes; as if he’s been crying.

“Okay, if you say so. You definitely don’t look fine.”

“Fuck,” Jimin says, plopping to sit next to me on the bed while wiping his face.

I immediately sit up and put my phone down. I want to let him know he has my attention. Admittedly, I’m a bit caught off guard that he’s sitting on my bed after working out in the dance studio, but I’ve also never seen him this way.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Tia, bro, or it may just be me,” he sniffles. “I’m livid, but I don’t want her to feel worse, so I’m trying my best to act normal. I kinda just snapped at her. Why is shit so cryptic with her? Why do we have to wait until she’s ready to talk like we haven’t experienced something traumatic as well? It just feels a bit selfish, I guess,” he confesses, head down while fiddling with his fingers. I watch as a single teardrop travels from the inner corner of his eye and over to his nose. It stalls for a moment before it falls from the tip of it and onto his lap.

“I get it, I really do, but we just have to be patient with her. Yes, what we saw today will haunt our dreams, no doubt. But, she’s been through so much,” I say and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder before I continue. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, Jimin, and I get where you’re coming from, but we have to think about Tia, too.”

“I’m always thinking of her. She’s my number one priority, always. Hell, just seeing and hearing the effects of her being attacked; her throat seems sore and her voice is so fucking hoarse. As soon as I heard it, it’s like my heart broke for her all over again. I should have done more.”

“Look. We are here for a reason. We all love Tia and want to cherish her while keeping her safe, not just physically but mentally, too. You did what you could do, there’s nothing more you could have done. I know you’re upset she didn’t tell you that was going to happen. Shit, we all are, but we know she’s not the type of person who would hurt us intentionally. So, let’s find comfort in that. She had to have her reasons for doing things like she did. Let’s just wait and hear her out.”

“You’re right. I’m just in my feelings. I was here, right here at the house, and I couldn’t keep her safe. What good am I? You know? Do I even deserve to be here?” He covers his mouth with his hand and sits like that for a moment with tears dancing in his eyes, threatening to fall.

“Honestly, I feel like that’s a normal reaction to have. We’re all having similar thoughts and doubts right now. I would be concerned if you didn’t feel any way about it.”

He chuckles a bit then wipes his face again before pushing his hair from his face. Finally, he allows himself to relax, leaning back against me.

“Yea, I feel you. Thanks for letting me vent, Tae. Today has been rough.”

“Of course.”

“Where is everybody?”

“Jungkook is in the gym with Hobi down in the dance studio. Yoongi found some art supplies down there and is painting by the pool. Namjoon is still in the library.”

“It’s so neat that we’re able to feel each other's presence. I can feel that they are all here, just not exactly where. Can you feel their exact locations?” He turns to look at me over his shoulder, fascination and wonder in his eyes.

“I hate to burst your bubble, but no. I went for a stroll earlier while you were out, and I saw them,” I say with a snicker.

“Oh,” he says with a smile and rests against me again. “Well, speaking of being able to feel each other’s presence…”

Jungkook’s POV

I’m so fucking pissed. I hardly know what to do with myself. I’ve been in the gym most of the day, torturing myself and this punching bag. Even though my fists ache, I continue in an attempt to punish myself. Maybe I’m trying to beat the anger that I have towards Tia. I don’t take my role as her man lightly, so I’m livid that I wasn’t there to protect her. I wasn’t there when she needed me most. I didn’t have a choice in the matter as she knew and didn’t tell me. I’m pissed at the Burton brothers and the fact that I didn’t get the chance to kill Jason myself. 

*thump*

I’m a fucking police officer! I should’ve trusted my gut.

*thump*

I should’ve been here. I should’ve protected her.

*thump*

What if he had hurt her worse than he did?

Exhausted, I hug the bag. My body is dripping with sweat, and my nose is starting to run due to my overheating. My throat is dry from breathing heavily, but this isn’t enough. I need to suffer at least a fraction of her suffering. Thinking back on how she looked when we got back, shaken, battered, and bruised, her face and clothes soaked with blood. I’ve seen a lot in my line of work, but that image will be seared into my memory to haunt me for the rest of my life. 

She wants to explain why she couldn’t tell me, but I can’t hear it now. I can’t trust that my words won’t do more harm than good to her, and I don’t want to hurt her more than she’s already been. Reluctantly, I release the bag after one more hit and then allow myself to collapse onto the floor. The coolness of the hardwood helps to regulate my body’s temperature. I know I should head back to the house to shower, but I’m not ready. I’m embarrassed to see the guys because I couldn’t protect her. I don’t want to see her because I’m angry, and the bruises around her throat are a physical representation of me failing her.

Namjoon’s POV

I don’t know who I’m trying to fool, sitting here with my nose in a damn book, unable to even comprehend the words. I trusted her and allowed her to lull me into a false sense of security. I had a feeling that something was up with her. I knew it! But I allowed my trust in her to override my own intuition. I can't hold back the tears that well up in my eyes when I hear her calling out to Jimin. Her voice is hoarse and rasping, being forced from her throat, nothing like the sweet tone that usually drips from her lips. My heart aches for her, even though I am so upset. Thinking about it has me unintentionally balling up the cover of the paperback book in my fists.

“Ugh, I can’t do this. I need some air,” I say to myself.

I place the book on the couch and stand to head outside, knowing that I will be able to find some kind of peace out there. When I reach the front door, multiple feelings come over me all at once and cause the hairs all over my body to stand on end. I can’t seem to get out of the door fast enough as I fumble with the lock. It’s like the air is thick here, causing me to struggle to breathe. Finally, I’m out and lean my back against the door, thankful for the fresh air and cool breeze. I know that it won’t fix everything, but I grab some equipment from the truck and get started on the lawn. There’s not much to be done as I’ve already taken care of everything, but I just need a distraction. Even if only for a moment, doing something that I enjoy and can get lost in, I need something that doesn’t require me to think or feel.

Hoseok’s POV

Lying here in the middle of this floor, I can feel the bass from the sound system booming through my body. I’m at the point where I don’t think I can dance another step as I’m panting, my chest rising and falling to the beat. I feel like coming down here was an attempt to push the negative feelings and thoughts out of my mind, but they are all rushing back to me now. Fuck…what have I gotten myself into? Of course, this shit would pop off as soon as I’ve finalized all my shit back in Bangtan. Am I making the right decision to move in?

Now, not to be mistaken with me regretting committing to Tia and the guys, it’s not that. However, the uncertainty of whether my feelings and the respect I have for my loves will be reciprocated is concerning. Ain’t no fucking way I should have come home, blindsided by finding a dead man lying in the middle of the foyer. As if that shit isn’t disturbing enough, ain’t no way my lady should have known it was going to happen and not felt the need to inform me.

I sit up with a huff, pissed and unable to hide it even if I wanted to. There is no way I will ever be able to scrub the visual of Tia, sitting on the edge of the couch, stiff as if trying not to transfer the blood and flesh from her face and clothes onto the fabric. Her face; blood and tear-stained and her expression of horror and shock. Jesus. Just thinking about it has tears welling in my eyes. My poor baby. Even though I’m mad, I want nothing more than to have her in my arms.

After turning off the music and the fans, I leave the studio and go into the gym. I find Jungkook, soaked with sweat, sprawled across the floor.

“You good, Koo?”

“I will be, bro. You?”

“Same. I will be.”

“Yea. You heading back in?”

“Yeah, I need to see Tia. I’m pissed, don’t get me wrong, but I just need to see her. To hold her, you know?”

“Absolutely. I’m trying to get out of my head first. I don’t want to act in a way or say something that will hurt her further,” he confesses as he sits up, remaining seated on the floor.

“That makes sense and says a lot about the love you have for her. Honestly, I don’t even know if I’m really upset with Tia for real.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if I’m upset with her or if I’m upset with myself and taking it out on her. I’m mad that I wasn’t here for her AND the fact that I didn’t even get a chance to choose whether to be here or not. But, ultimately, it’s more because I feel inadequate,” I admit and shrug my shoulders. “I think I’m just going to let this shit go and focus on the good. She’s still here. Today could have ended much differently.”

The look on Jungkook’s face is as if I’d cracked some type of code. His expression can only be described as one of enlightenment, as if he’d not thought about the alternative ending.

“Bro-” he says with a quiver in his voice, then takes his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Fuck, did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to make him cry! Instinctually, I rush over to his side and wrap him up in my arms.

“Koo, I’m so sorry. Is it something I said?”

He shakes his head against my chest as he silently sobs. We stay this way for a while, him leaning into the comfort of my embrace as I’m stroking his back through his sweat-soaked shirt. He sits up when he’s ready and wipes his nose on the back of his bandage-wrapped hand.

“You didn’t say anything wrong. You’re right. I was so focused on my anger towards Tia and didn’t even take into consideration that I could possibly be projecting my feelings on her when I was just mad at myself. I’m pissed because of what he did to her and I’m embarrassed that, as a police officer, I couldn’t even protect my own girlfriend, you know?” Still squatting down to his level, I nod, completely understanding him. “He really came to our home, our safe haven, and attacked her in broad daylight. I’m down here, making this about me when I should be taking advantage of the opportunity to hold her in my arms again. I should be comforting her. Like you said, today could have definitely ended differently. I could have lost her.”

I stand up and reach down to pull him up with me.

“Let’s go see her.”

Yoongi’s POV

I’m so glad I happened to find some paint supplies and canvases in the storage closet of the pool house. I grab what I think I’ll need and decide to set up here at the pool, not wanting to disturb Jungkook and Hoseok from what they are doing but also not brave enough to go into the main house. My feelings are all over the place, and my mind feels so cluttered I don’t want to be around people right now. The past 24 hours have been insane, and I’m trying to wrap my head around it all while also giving Tia space to process her own thoughts. 

I am just going to take this time to paint my thoughts and feelings in hopes of clearing them out of my head and putting them on the canvas to help me process. I’ve completely relinquished control over this creation and am allowing myself to subconsciously dip into the different colors, placing them here and there without thought. I’m imagining this is what meditation is like: allowing my thoughts to come, acknowledging the thought, then allowing it to pass. I continue to do this until I have nothing else to think about, my last thoughts being, ‘What can I do for Tia? How can I help her? Are the guys okay?’

When I hear the door to the pool house open, I look up and see Jungkook and Hoseok walking toward me. Their sweat has drenched their shirts, causing the area to become darker than the rest of the fabric, creating nearly perfect triangles down their chests. I also realize that I’ve zoned out and I’m unaware of how much time has passed, but my canvas is now completely covered.

“Hey, did you paint something pretty?” Hobi asks before coming over to take a peek.

“Ummm… my intention was to clear my mind, to get all the crap out and onto the fabric.”

“Damn,” Jungkook says when he looks at it. “Do you feel better?”

“I do, actually. I typically love to paint but I kind of spaced out with this one. I don’t even know how long I’ve been at it.”

The guys help me pick up the supplies, putting some back where they belong, and taking others into the house to be cleaned. I take the artwork and easel inside, deciding to leave it in the basement to dry.

A/N:

So so so sorry for the long wait but this chapter is extra long to make up for that. Life has been crazy, but in a good way. I hope that you all have been well, happy and healthy.

Thanks so much to @yoongiobsessed and @heathfritillary for beta reading this chapter.

[donnerpartyofone]

I can't believe I'm about to do this. I mean don't get too excited, it's not interesting, I'm just forced to talk about it because that's the only power I have in this stupid situation.

A couple weeks ago I was prescribed this new asthma medication, even though my problem is almost definitely from muscular-skeletal pressure but nobody can figure that out yet, so for now I just have this inhaler so I'm not constantly suffocating. The first time I took it at the recommended dosage I had a bad panic attack that took me out for an entire day. I reduced the dosage so I didn't feel dangerously insane anymore, but it still causes my fucking rosacea to go completely out of control, which is not really something I can just ignore; it drives me crazy that insurance companies just treat rosacea like it's some fancy cosmetic issue, as if it doesn't affect your entire life when your skin is visibly deteriorating at an escalating rate, but that's another story... So anyway I have a giant bag of medications that either didn't work at all or actively harmed me (my typical experience with everything) that I haven't disposed of yet, so I dug around in there for a tube of Rhofade that like I don't even know how I got it because it's the premiere celebrity-endorsed thing and it's psychotically expensive, but anyway I decided to give it another shot because I'm desperate. First couple days it worked great. I thought all my problems were solved, except that I'd have to find a way to keep paying for it. Then it seemed not so great for a couple days. Then things started to get pretty rocky. I wondered if it had to do with not being careful enough in the sun or what, but I started to worry about the medication, so I did something that will sound insane, but oh well.

Months ago I complained to my GP that I was having a hard time finding a "real dermatologist" in the city, as opposed to a salesperson for predatory beauty treatments. I've been treated pretty badly by a variety of dermos over 15 years, I often had the feeling that I was neglected because I had a medical concern as opposed to like an expensive anti-aging concern or something. Sometimes a dermo advertises themselves as a medical professional, but when you get there you realize they're a glorified beautician and you're fucked. I went to a well-reviewed practice that's now called The Dermatology Specialists several times, and every time there was a mad rush to get rid of me. The actual head of the clinic saw me a couple times, and both times he came running at me with a needle without telling me what he was doing, to try to lance a mole that I wasn't there to discuss. One of these was right over my eye and you can imagine how scary this was. I eventually realized I didn't have to take that shit and swore him off. Years later when I decided to look for a dermo in my new neighborhood, I made an appointment at a "new" place that I realized too late was the same guy; he had rebranded and expanded his thing into a giant chain that's all over the city, like half or more of the dermos in my searches are attached to his practice and it's not always obvious until the appointment is made. Fuck. I thought, maybe things will be different at this location, I'm seeing a new person and I'm the only one in the waiting room, seems pretty chill. I actually had to get a mole removed that time. I sat down with the new doctor who frantically explained what she was going to do to me before saying "OK BYE!!!" and racing out the door, which she had almost closed all the way behind her before she remembered that she still had to actually do the procedure. I couldn't believe I'd fallen for this clinic's bullshit yet again!

So that's when I talked to my GP and she wrote me a referral for what I took to be a real doctor. His office was clean, simple, and unpretentious. When I got there, an exiting patient was thanking the doctor profusely for something, like from the depths of his soul. We sat down together and he calmly denounced all the lasers and other expensive snake oil that had been upsold to me over the years. He told me to scale back to just a basic Aveeno face wash and moisturizer, and I was so relieved that he wasn't some greedy hipster asshole...however. He also told me that the active ingredient in Afrin, an OTC decongestant nasal spray, has the same effects as the top of the line rosacea medication Rhofade, and many of his patients have success just applying it to their skin. I was so impressed that he wasn't trying to sell me anything, and that he was empowering me to just take care of my own shit at home, that I believed him.

So flashing forward to the past week: I use this new inhaler that I need if I want to breathe, my face blows up like a bomb, I try Rhofade and it seems to make things worse...and then I buy some Afrin and put it on. It pretty much burned my face off my skull. My skin was purple and my face completely changed shape for more than 24 hours. I thought, at least I have this cold pack that's made for faces, for swelling from dental surgery and shit (it was recommended to me by my TMJ specialist who is also fucking with me right now but that's another story). I applied it, and it made everything a thousand times worse than it had ever been. I had to cancel all my plans. I took Tylenol, antihistamines, drank tons of water, whatever I thought would help. A colloidal oatmeal-based moisturizer kind of did something for me, but not remotely enough. It's a couple days later, now, and I'm still not completely over it, and I'm having random intense and painful flareups. I've never had exactly this problem before. And by the way "just using a moisturizer" has not helped anything at all this entire time, even though it's the advice I always get (sometimes VERY rudely) no matter what I say. Dry skin is not my problem, someone could tell just from touching it. Just being mindful of the sun and trigger foods and shit is not the answer. I know there's something else going on and like nobody cares to find out.

So anyway I'm having a followup appointment with my GP to explain all this...and in the meantime I'm going back to the fucking snake oil clinic. I just absolutely need something for right now, I don't know if it will be an antibiotic or what. I've spent years looking for a real medical dermatologist and I know I'm not going to just find one overnight, so I'm subjecting myself to more humiliation at the most convenient place, and I'll deserve whatever I get I guess. At least my appointment is with a guy I haven't seen before. Cross your fingers for me that he doesn't give me something else that just melts my face off of my face.

[sweepweep]

So "Good Witch" is being taken off of Netflix so of course I started watching it to see if I was missing anything and I wasn't. It's one of those shows that has the potential to be good if it had better writing because it, for the most part, seems like it has some good story lines. A new doctor in town who has to basically start his clinic from scratch in a town that doesn't trust doctors because their last town doctor was an asshole after the narcissistic mayor screws the new doctor over by telling him it was fully stocked when it was barely functional while also dealing with a divorce and having full custody of his son. A son that is spoiled and trashed a person's house and skips school and his dad doesn't have the emotional availability to take care of him so their relationship is strained. They have the self-centered mayor who doesn't admit to her own faults or thinks things through (holy shit how did she become mayor?). There's another dude, Derek I think, who was acting weird for half the episode and seems like... Well I don't know if he's a shitty partner or if becoming a police officer was so important to him that he didn't want input into his decision including his partner or what but. He's a police officer! And all the people he loved, including the main characters which I haven't even talked about yet, were being assholes about it for reasons ("this is the last thing your father wanteed for you" he said accusingly) they don't really explain. I think the dude's sister implies that their dad died in service, or like a long string of family members died in service, but they don't say what happened or why I should care about this (I guess if the dad did die in service I could understand why they would have such an unsupportive attitude but still. Maybe it's the dry dialogue with no character voice behind it. When they talk it's always so stale omg no soul behind those words). There's also a new chief of police. I think he called out the mayor a few times for her bullshit so I think they're good?

Ok so the actual two main characters, the Nightingale's! Danny Phantom witch au or crossover anyone? Jk. They're... good witches... That's really all there is too them... They don't really have personalities other than being nice and being whimsical but no personality to make me care about them. Magic is barely there so for but it's just the first episode so who knows. They make it obvious that the new doctor and the witch mom are endgame but they also obvious make the doctor's son (who I am going to refer to as "Troubled Boy" from now on) and the witch daughter endgame with a childhood friend love triangle that he's obviously going to lose which is going to be awkward because if the doctor dad and witch mom get together then that means the kids are going to be step-siblings and good luck explaining that. When the witch daughter first sees the troubled boy and her childhood friend gives her a psychological profile per her REQUEST and they start looking down on him ALREADY EVEN WHEN HE HASN'T DONE ANYTHING YET (which makes me think they do this REGULARLY and that annoys me. Especially since with the dialogue I'm not going to care about this one obvious flaw). They try to pull an "I'm not like other girls" thing but then make her show immediate interest in him despite the fact that she was looking down on him literally half a second ago. And then she's just nice the whole episode. Well ok. Both ships they're trying to pull and enemies to lovers but I don't care about them and one of the ships is a one-sided enemies to lovers thing which isn't that fun especially since the doctor kind of had a point in telling the mom witch that she shouldn't have been prescribing what at first I thought was safe nonrisky herbal remedies or like a magic potion thing but no she says she watches what proportions she puts or something which makes me think she prescribes like. Real medicine. Presumably without a license or something. I will give her credit that she is in fact good at what she does and has a point in telling the doctor that herbal remedies are also an alternative form of medicine. Also the doctor not believing in herbal remedies because they're not pills and therefore not giving his patients that option?? Like sir???? Did no one teach you about this when you DID go to medical school??????? What did you think people used before pills were made??????????

Oh WOW that sounds bland. Yeesh. I’ve never watched it to be honest, but it sounds like it tried to fit every trope into a show and failed.

I think you’re completely right in saying that it has the potential to be interesting! If only the characters were 3 dimensional. Yknow. Actual people.

This hits every stereotype and trope, I have no idea how NONE of them landed

[laurelnose]

good news! I don’t have a brain tumor 🥰

so basically what happened is

mid-december: i acquire Debilitating Migraine, 10 out of 10 worst pain I’ve felt in my entire fucking life Migraine, worse than the time I spent three weeks recovering from major surgery completely sober because I am inexplicably resistant to just about every class of painkiller I’ve ever tried Migraine. (I actually only rank the surgery experience about a 6 out of 10 on the pain scale.) we get the migraine down to Bad But Manageable by locating several new Christmas light strings that turned out to be flickering at speeds the human eye could not detect but my human brain certainly could and throwing them all out. I make a doctor’s appointment.

last week: I finally see my PCP. she prescribes me a triptan, which is an abortive med that is meant to stop migraine attacks. the triptan decreases the headache but does not remove it entirely. also, the damn thing keeps getting worse again. I try it three times over the week, which is the maximum number of times you’re supposed to take a triptan in a month. almost like you’re not supposed to have more than three headaches in a month or something?? weird. well, technically I haven’t had three. it’s all the Same Damn Headache.

this same day I also pick up a topiramate prescription, which is a preventative. i am advised i can start the topiramate even if i am not pain free. maybe if i give it a day or two it will help even if i am currently having an attack??

wednesday i see my PCP for followup and tell her i am still in pain. she offers to get me squeezed in to have an intramuscular toradol (heavy-duty NSAID) shot. this kicks in within 20 minutes and doubles my migraine pain. I was at 3-ish and now I am at 6 and unhappy about it.

i do not come back down from the level the toradol kicked me up to. i survive thursday by not doing very much of anything.

uh? holy shit? yeah, sure?

friday the pain becomes unbearable. back up to an 8, which isn’t the worst it’s been but it’s also Day Forty Fucking Two and I’m so tired. I leave work early & go to urgent care where they pump me fulla benadryl and dexamethasone. absolutely none of this is fun — the dexamethasone feels like a panic attack and the benadryl makes me dizzy and light-headed + makes it very hard to think of words? what the shit do people take benadryl recreationally for? but! the pain diminishes dramatically. after the IV’s done they get me in for a CT scan and are like hey! you don’t have a brain tumor! (I was not actually worried I had a brain tumor but it’s always nice to rule it out.) but you do have a sinus infection and a bunch of fluid buildup that’s probably triggering the migraine. (really? but I haven’t been congested?) yeah, no, it’s really deep in there. do you wanna do antibiotics and sudafed about that to clear up the fluid?

saturday morning the head pain is back but it’s mild and it feels LIKE A FUCKING SINUS HEADACHE and not a migraine anymore oh my god. Guess what kinds of headaches are fucking fixable and tend not to be intractable and unpreventable. It’s also like, a manageable amount of pain? It hurts but I feel okay?? I get thru work without taking my breaks in the dark with a heat pad? I look at headlights on the dark road coming home and am not immediately debilitated? 😭 Maybe in a week and a half when the antibiotics course is done I will actually just be Fine??

I really shoulda gone to urgent care back in December. Too bad I didn’t quite realize you could go to urgent care for migraines until I’d seen my PCP for the first time and that couldn’t happen earlier bc, well, appointments are hard to come by.

I’m wondering in hindsight if the triptan WAS kicking the migraine more effectively than I thought it was and i couldn’t tell because I had a sinus headache underneath (which kept bringing the migraine back). this also explains why I was getting decent results with Vick’s VapoRub LMAO. Like some people do swear by menthol for migraines but it was probably helping the congestion too.

anyways this is why I’ve been quiet. I will be quiet for a little while longer probably bc the sinus headache is still not fun but it is getting better. in fact i had to get up and eat breakfast to take my antibiotic but it is sunday and i don’t actually want to be awake so i think i’m going back to bed

i am never letting anyone talk me into taking another NSAID ever fucking again.

[bellshazes]

PLEASE GO INTO DETAILS ABOUT YOUR BDUBS ANALYSIS FOREVER

restricting myself solely to bwbs3 for the moment because i am going to finish DIA tonight so that'll have to be a separate. thing. about narrative

i'm not interested in it for theory's sake, but because I think a lot of content around minecraft does not scratch the itch I want - sure you can teach me how to copy a build block by block, or even explain a process for massing a roof, but these still aren't enough. what I truly, truly want is many people having a conversation that would include things like...

how do i move around in the game? where do I spend my time? what are the implications of that?

how do i build the infrastructure necessary to support the continued playstyle i prefer without devolving into base chores and in fact encouraging the development of goals and completion of them in a game with no prescribed finish?

how do I interpret meaning from the world I build around me? how do distance, color, texture, scale, size, lighting, shape, time spent navigating, terrain, machines, mechanics, movement, etc. and their interrelationships impact the meaning I derive?

these are mere starting points; concretely, a conversation could look like moving from "what's the best most efficient farm objectively i can build?" to "how do I choose or construct a farm that matches its output and ease of access to my current needs and goals?" farm throttling is a huge concern in my imaginary discourse, since it's highly variable even across a single player's single world. (this may shock you to learn this is something I appreciate greatly about etho.)

bdubs is making really, really big arguments about what visual representation can signify not in isolation but in concert across many dimensions: he loves his fog and render distance settings because of what they do to an environment, and his builds interact with those distance limits; he is constantly pushing himself further beyond simple gradients into texturing into doing ambient occlusion on flat walls to suggest crossbeams and now expanding scale to increase possibilities for meaningful coherent block palettes. it's got his usual wrapping of bluster and pride but he's a lot more mellow and didactic in bwbs3! like, he is arguing for this approach in terms you would expect with historical art movements, about how to communicate meaningfully through art. he is doing pointillism!

today he talked about building in all those terms and more, and then also in the fourth dimension of time; this is the first thing I built and it is a time capsule of my skill and style at that point in time, and I am going to build this today as a capstone to my current skills and style, a proof of concept and a temple and a focal point and a new scale marker (since the mountain he built is now tiny in comparison lmao). he is playing minecraft in 4D! this is a really neat and meaty line of thinking - if you're playing a world, what could you build to be a snapshot of where you are now?

that turns the world, built-up, into a historical register. it's not that groundbreaking to do in retrospect, but combined with the foresight and level of intent and skill and on top of that articulating that to the audience makes building with bdubs season 3 really special to me. it's a cross between a seminar and a let's play; it's not building with like s1/s2 senses of just recording himself while building and talking in detail, it's building with in the sense of instruction and encouraging you to go try it out. it's his pitch for his theory of building! from what I can tell, it's pretty unique for that.

honestly the derrida and perec and everything is relevant and ripe but my first turn to theory with bdubs was bernard tschumi's advertisements for architecture, because some of them work so well with his life series builds (another post, another time). however, check this shit out!

advertisements for architecture frequently also engages with murder and the erotic as components of architecture - "Murder in the Street differs from Murder in the Cathedral in the same way as love in the street differs from the Street of Love. Radically." the erotic is less relevant, but the call to baser human desires is a fun touchpoint when considering the meaninglessness of death and especially in the context of MCYT the use of architecture even more explicitly than irl as prompts for interesting, novel, unpredictable interactions. at the same time, many built things in MC are mere facades (grian hcs7 megabase...... not to be rude but jesus).

and so the novelty and love for a guy who cares about and executes well a manifesto on unifying aesthetics and function in a dynamic four-dimensional framework. with that basis, you could start engaging piaget on play, baudrillard on simulation and simulacra, derrida on bricolage, perec on space, any number of theater-centered theorists from any number of lenses (marxist critique of the gradient trend when?) and so on endlessly. but I'm always overjoyed and intrigued by bdubs' arguments. he's so breezy about it, too, like he's driven toward something he's figuring out for himself and trying to share as he learns. nothin else like it

[lewdladylily]

Are you okay? Been busy so haven't checked the blog for a while, why were you in the hospital? -Anna

The problem with explaining you are sick is there is really no way to tell people "yeah my shit's fucked right now" without making people concerned when they don't need to be or making everything awkward as hell. But you also can't interact with people in your normal ways because your shit is fucked so you feel like you need to say something so people understand that you are unwell.

So everyone understands, no one needs to be concerned about me. I'll get through this fine, it's certainly not the worst it's every been. Having said that, I'll now explain a bit about my situation that will make everyone who reads it be very concerned about me. So like, if you don't want the downer, maybe stop reading here.

The hospital thing wasn't actually a big deal, just kidney stones, the surgery will be minimally invasive with minimal risk. It's just a lot of pain and inconvenience and stress, but not actually something to worry about in and of itself.

That said, it came at a particularly bad time and has exacerbated my mental health issues which could charitably be described as dire.

I'm only gonna say this next part because I find this real funny in a very morbid sense, but my doctor actually gave me three times the usual amount of my "get high to feel better" drugs and told me to not worry about it if I get addicted while we are figure something out. Like, what doctor says that? I've been on this medicine a decade or something and the doctors are always very concerned about making sure I'm controlling my use and not prescribing too much and then he 180s so hard it feels like I have whiplash. "Here's all the pills! Take 'em whenever you feel like it!"

Anyway, my doctor was freaking out like that two days before the kidney stone problem started and made everything even worse so like. That's how fucked my shit is right now.

But it's gonna get better. I always get worse in the summer, starting in like june and it gets worse and worse until late august or early september and then it gets better quite quickly. Been like that for years. And my doctor has some ideas for new meds that might help, and the kidney stone problem will be resolved, so like in a month I'll be doing much, much better. So people don't need to be concerned.

It's just that timing has ensured that the answer to your question is no I'm very not ok. But I will be.

[lexical-lushes]

[Emily] i had an interesting realization.

so this is uhhh

very much a possibility that requires events to be A Certain Amount Real and not wholly metaphorical/a dream, but.

there's a class of planetoids called "sednoids". they're dwarf planets past neptune's orbit that have extreme elliptical orbits, like comets do. they're named after 90377 sedna.

one of sedna's primary known characteristics is that it's really fucking red.

thus: it is possible that penrose 512 crashed on sedna.

further thoughts i have on/related to this:

while it's possible that the penrose program being a survey mission was fake and it was all just to show off the nation's giant magnetic gun, i like the idea that it was a scientific moonshot that they were hoping would actually lead to discovering new planets to exploit. "you might plausibly find something, but the odds are slim."

it adds a sort of bitter irony if after their mission failed, they really did find a planet at the end.

while the red desert is probably not be a wholly literal place, it being a Red Desert in part because that was the final resting place of the ship makes a degree of sense.

if there is Actual Eldritch Artifacts involved, a resonance between ruins on sedna and under S-23 could explain why ariane was able to influence S-23.

(this ties into the question of How Real Is The Gate, of course.)

i think it still works even if there's no weird eldritch stuff involved? there's just something nice to me about the red desert being a dreamscape interpretation/mirror of the actual place the ship ended up instead of purely a dream-logic invention

i appreciate that the story doesn't rely on there being actual eldritch stuff happening or some elaborate history of precursors but the question of Why Did They Find Something In The Mines keeps nagging at me enough i'm willing to use "weird ruins" as an explanation.

like why was it specifically that they found something and falke investigating it triggered all the shit on S-23 if it's just a more general resonance between Ariane and that location based on her memories/experiences

you can handwave it as part of the dream logic - a Need For A Narrative - or that what they found was a rift ariane created or something but that just doesn't feel right to me.

the game is so open to interpretation i don't feel bad picking one sometimes and going "i like this, the story feels better to me if i believe this" without prescribing it as The Truth, y'know?

[most-annoying-sponsorship]

Any submitted propaganda under the cut

Raycon - 10

God awful earbuds with 3 times the price of similar quality with the same script every god damn time at least allow creators to do something with it. Not an active scam product but they try so hard to market themselves like one and I don't understand.

1. It's been a while but at it's height, you couldn't get through a video without seeing someone shilling these subpar earbuds. 2. They're literally earbuds bought off of alieexpress with a fancy brand slapped over the top 3. They're garbage earbuds. DankPods did an excellent breakdown of why they're awful 4. Now everyone I know thinks Raycons are great despite them being as expensive or more so than actual established brands that work hard and take pride in their sound quality

I used them for a while actually but they just didn't work out for me so at this point I'm not going to start buying them again and I don't need to hear about it anymore

they’re everywhere. everyone i watch (which is a fairly diverse list) has a sponsorship. i also know zero people in my life who own them.

There are so much better earbuds that are also cheaper. Plus I don't wanna hear YouTubers awkwardly explain and show them being used, it's just dumb.

they wouldn't even stay in my ears plus the look like they go right up against your eardrums. red flags all around plus i hate wireless shit the battery lasts like two shakes at best

Cerebral - 1

Ok sorry this is gonna be an essay with some snark. So for some important background, at last report Cerebral is under investigation by both the DEA and DOJ for essentially being an online pill mill. This tech bro startup took advantage of a temporary measure meant to help patients keep their EXISTING prescriptions during the pandemic -- the usual rule is that controlled substances can only be prescribed after an in-person appointment, to avoid the exact kind of situation I'll describe, but of course when lockdowns made in-person appointments much harder then people who have been taking stimulants or w/e for years shouldn't be left hanging. But then, in comes the Cerebral tech bros who decide to build their new business off prescribing stimulants to NEW patients... to "95%" of new patients, to be exact, because one of them actually admitted "100% would be a pill mill". (Oh yes, 95% is much better, not just a malicious loophole at all /s) Basically, a patient would have a single 30-minute video appointment, take one quiz that's meant to be a SCREENING tool (not a diagnostic tool! if you get a high score that's an indication you need MORE testing to confirm a possible diagnosis!) and then immediately get prescribed stimulants with no physical exam (no EKG, heart rate, or blood pressure, just for starters that any RESPONSIBLE doctor would do) and no further questions asked.—

—That would have been bad enough, but the advertising and shilling. Oh god, the advertising and shilling. Cerebral put out ads deliberately overstretching "signs you may have ADHD" in such a way that would put Tiktok influencers to shame (and we'll fucking get to that.) Like one ad implying that overeating sweets, something that literally everyone does at one point or another, is a sign you should make an appointment with Cerebral to get that sweet sweet Addy! And as for the real treat, the actual sponsorships. They had a fucking AFFILIATE CODE PROGRAM. Tiktokers would be like "use my code to get $30 off your first month!" for PSYCHIATRY. Not only that, but for psychiatry prescribing stimulants which are addictive and can kill you if you're not being carefully monitored for heart problems. Tiktokers and ads would also describe this service as a "life hack" and emphasize how easy it is to get stimulants through this one neat trick! Medical ethics is dead and we killed it. It got to the point that major pharmacies like CVS and Walgreens started refusing to fill prescriptions originating from Cerebral, because if/when a pill mill gets busted, pharmacies that filled the prescriptions can also be held liable. Think of the opioid epidemic for examples of the situation they were trying to avoid. They noticed how suspicious it was that ALL THE SUDDEN there was a huge flood of prescriptions for addictive drugs, ALL originating from the same few healthcare providers (mostly Nurse Practitioners rather than Medical Doctors, because MDs were more likely to call out the ethical/legal violations, but even many of the NPs who worked for Cerebral described feeling pressured by the corporate higher-ups to increase prescriptions and discourage waiting or further testing) Once this all came to a head Cerebral tried damage control by no longer prescribing stimulants to new patients. I haven't heard any updates on the regulatory investigations since then. But you know what I haven't seen that's even more telling? Not one, not a SINGLE one of the content creators who shilled for this company EVER apologized. For all they know they could have contributed to getting someone killed, not to mention life-ruining addictions, all for that sweet corporate sponsorship cash. Even if you argue they might not have known better at the time (to which I say bullshit, it's your responsibility to at least google the company to see if there's any red flags, Cerebral had more than a communist parade) even AFTER all this started making national news, it was just dead silence and moving on to the next corporate sponsor. But hey, if you're struggling with Adderall addiction, I know just the thing to help! Sign up for BetterHelp using code "SHILL" to get $10 off- *dies*

[valessacat]

I was diagnosed with ADHD at 41.

And it pisses me off.

Throughout my entire life, I never slept well. I struggled with insomnia because my brain would just not turn off at night. I was restless. Even when I laid there, exhausted, my mind and body just refused to relax. I spent a lot of time in bed, on the couch, in front of a computer. My parents and teachers said I was lazy.

My grades were either As or Ds. Very little in between. I devoured history text books and wrote loooong papers and book reports, struggling to stay under word count. I nearly failed every math class I took because none of the information stuck in my brain. Trying to do my math homework was literally painful and I’d have rather touched a hot stove than muddle through long division. My parents grounded and spanked me for being lazy, but all it did was motivate me to find ways to cheat.

I went to a psychiatrist when I was 20. He was an older man who saw me for about 15 minutes, told me I had anxiety, and wrote me a script for Celexa. I told him I wasn’t worried at night, my head was filled with too many things. He didn’t listen and I stopped taking the meds after a week because he never explained how SSRIs work so I have no idea if it would have helped me or not.

When I got into the workforce, the problems persisted. I excelled at the tasks that tickled my brain and dragged my feet on the tedious tasks. I got passed over for promotions and even written up a few times for poor performance. I was convinced I was a lazy piece of shit and helpless to change.

After being denied an annual raise in 2017, I finally went to a psychiatrist again. I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Moderate Depression. I was given Effexor, which made my insomnia worse and made me sweat like a pig. Switched to Lexapro. Since my doctor explained that I needed to wait 2-4 weeks for results, I followed her instructions. It helped a little and made me feel much more even-keeled. But I didn’t see a breakthrough until I started on the Welbutrin.

Now, Welbutrin is often prescribed off-label for milder cases of ADHD because it is an upper and it’s not as tightly regulated as other options. My sleep improved almost immediately. I didn’t have to drink an *entire* pot of coffee to feel semi-normal and it got me through my workday. This was the first time a drug actually did something really significant for me, so I started to do some googling.

The Welbutrin didn’t seem to be working as well after six months or so I asked my doctor “are you sure it’s not ADHD?” She said that GAD and ADHD can present similarly in adult women and offered to let me try Ritalin since there was a long-ass wait list for psych testing.

It was like seeing a rainbow after years of clouds and rain. I woke up feeling refreshed. I fell asleep at night. I could perform tasks I needed to get through without feeling paralyzed. She switched me to the Concerta after I told her I wanted an extended release since the crash after the Ritalin wore off was super annoying.

Life is beautiful, but I’m angry. I’m angry at all the life I didn’t get to live. At all the missed opportunities. Doctors who didn’t listen. My mom who thought ADD (what it was called when I was a kid) was a made-up illness. I’m angry that AMAB individuals get diagnosed as kids but AFAB folks just “worry too much.”

My beautiful friends: find a doctor who listens to you and is willing to walk you through your medication and diagnosis. Whether it’s ADHD or something else, you deserve to live your best life. Some of us just need a little extra help to get there.

[othellovonryan-1000]

TW depression & anxiety (Mention of medication)

Normally I'd be posting this on my vent blog, but this is something important that I feel should be talked about, and because my main blog is something slightly more people will see, I'll be talking about it here.

Just know that this is a really long post.

So tonight I realized I've been skipping out on taking my meds again. Which is not good, and I strongly recommend against it unless you are experiencing bad side effects, as prescribed medications are meant to help.

And I don't mean I realized I've been skipping on them as in "Aw darn, I keep forgetting to take my meds" It's in a "Well shit, for the past month or so, consciously or subconsciously, I've been opting out of taking my meds because the prospect of 'getting better' is scary to me."

I've heard a lot of people, but especially my parents, say time and time again that if I ever want to get better I need to stop being so self destructive, and that I need to stop neglecting my needs when it comes to medication, hygiene, food, and even water.

They just.. tell me to make a choice to be better. To put in the effort.

But the thing is, no matter how much you tell me this, I likely will not change. This isn't out of bitterness, or out of retaliation towards authority, but out of the overwhelming fear that taking care of myself and finally starting to feel happy again will change who I am.

The fact of the matter is... I have been diagnosed with anxiety and depression since I was 8 years old. And in a twisted sort of way, if I were to try and walk down the path of recovery and health.. it'll feel like I'm losing my entire personality, and even like I'll sacrifice parts of my future.

I know that sounds like typical "Ooooh, I'm 14 and this is deep, my depression is my entire personality, anefusg" but let me explain.

Being diagnosed at such a young age, for me, means a lot of the coping skills I turned to (Humor, art, writing, reading, math, really just school in general, music, etc) became major parts of my personality over time.

I'm the 'art kid', 'the nerd'/'the smart kid', I'm always seen with headphones in because I have bad panic attacks without my music, I'm always seen with a book in my bag, and a sketchbook right next to it, and when I have the energy, I try to be funny.

But whenever I finally get myself to take my meds, talk to someone about how I feel, start taking care of myself... I lose interest in all of those things. Drawing seems less appealing, I can't get myself to pick up a book, or write a passage or two, my jokes just don't land with others or myself really, and math just feels.. kind of like a drag. Which seems opposite, seeing as a symptom of depression a lack of interest in hobbies or activities, but these are all things I've been turning to as coping strategies since 3rd grade. When I feel happier, I feel less of a need to interact with those things, because I feel less of a need to make myself feel joy. And I want to be an animator or a math teacher!

So when I start to feel happier, more mentally healthy, I lose everything that makes me.. who I am. I lose all my interests, my personality, my possible JOBS. Everything.

And that's scary to me. More than scary really, it's petrifying.

It's ironic. The better I get, the more of a hollow shell I become.

I'm also afraid of losing my friends. We've all bonded over how absolutely fucked we are, and the reason we're friends is.. well, because of my personality. So if I lose that, and if I changed, I'm afraid they'll decide I'm not worthy of friendship anymore, that we just aren't a good fit for each other.

And really.. more than anything.. I think I've just gotten used to the constant feeling of numbness.

It's been almost 7 years. I'm scared to let go of this constant.

So no. I can't just choose to be better, choose to put in more effort.

I'm.. far too scared to at the moment. Maybe, hopefully, soon I'll gather the strength I need to ask for help.

This is all just my experience, but.. Idk, maybe this can help someone better understand depression.