#so im in therapy again and im getting new glasses and i have a doctor's appointment end of june And new PT

[orcelito]

Submitting myself to physical therapy for my cringefail shoulders bc I remembered it's a muscle problem, aka something that can possibly be fixed, SO

On the 16th, I am starting physical therapy again 💪

[vitiateoriginator]

I'm losing my medical insurance at the end of the month :)

[tkbrokkoli]

c:

[fromthepinnacle2thepit]

cervi e consumo

hannibal lecter x reader

a/n: hello! so i began posting this on another blog, but have decided to continue posting it here since i’m on this way more often!! it used to be called love crime (sopravvivero).

i’ve developed my plan for the plot a LOT more, and definitely know what im going to do with it.

if i tagged you, it means that you wanted to be added to a tag list or reblogged it. this is the first chapter but i’ll be publishing the second very soon!

tags: @catchmybreath94 @flow33didontsmoke @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @zoleea-exultant

summary: When you begin sessions with your new psychiatrist, the renowned Dr. Lecter, you never would’ve imagined falling into the rabbit hole you get stuck in. Faced with a horrible trauma, deer and cannibalism haunt your subconscious. Suddenly, Dr. Lecter is a part of all this. In more ways than one.

chapter 1: the beginning

“Dr. Lecter is ready to see you now,” the polite receptionist says, with a smile sent your way. It’s no more than a flash of positivity before she turns back to her paper work, reflected by her thin framed glasses. As her eyes scanned over the work, turning back to frantically look over her desk, presumably searching for something, she gave off an obvious air of worry. Perhaps she was new.

You were too.

Your first day of therapy. Well, your first day of therapy with this new psychiatrist. It wasn’t something you were exactly frantically nervous about- as the poor polite receptionist was. You’d been to therapy before. You were accustomed to the shallow invasion and prodding of the mind. This time, your hope was that this new Dr. Lecter would be unique. Different.

You’d heard many good things about him. Ranging from his written work and studies, to his success with patients. And after the worsening state of your mind and the life you had built around you, you decided that it was time to try again. So far, you weren’t disappointed. The office was classy. Nice chairs were set in the waiting room, where you had sat for some time. There was tasteful art, quiet classical music in the background. Bach, you had guessed. Other than the receptionist, it had emitted an air of class and calmness.

You flashed a smile back at the receptionist, returning the politeness.

“Thank you very much,” you replied. You weren’t sure if she heard given how diligently she was scanning her desk currently. But it was of no matter, you had been polite, it was the most you could do. You stepped up to a wooden door, unsure if you’d have to knock. Before you could, the door was opened, and Dr. Lecter was revealed to you.

He was handsome. You weren’t one to judge or weigh value off of looks, but you would give him that simple statement. Looks were not the most important thing to you, and you certainly were not meaning it in a romantic way. But he was handsome. The eyes that quickly met yours were brown, maybe with a hint of hazel. His hair was brown as well, it shone in the light from his office. He wore a navy blue plaid suit, giving him an obvious air of seriousness, of class and respect. His lips curled into a smile, and yours followed suit.

“I imagine you are my new patient, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he spoke, his voice was rich and soothing.

“Dr. Lecter, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you and your work. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.” you replied calmly, mirroring his niceties and charm. He had a quiet suave demeanor. As if on instinct, you both reached your hands out for a handshake. More niceties. This doctor was very formal. You appreciated that. As your hands touched you felt his eyes scan you quickly. Almost like an eagle searching a field for prey. Though, there wasn’t malice behind this look.

“Please, do come in.” he said, leading you into his large room. And what a large room it was.

It had a mostly grey color palette, with the exception of the one wall which was a dark red. To your right was a large wall, with two large red and white striped curtains. To your left, a desk, obviously a professional one. Lamps and books and art decorated the top. Further back to your left was another desk and a chair, but nothing was on this one. Behind that, a fireplace. The room was lined with cabinets and bookshelves, and art (specifically paintings) were anything but scarce. Right in front of you however, were two chairs facing each other. And there was a ladder, on the wall behind them, leading up to another level of the room. This one was lined with books of all shapes and sizes and colors. You took note of the other items in the room. Your eyes scanned from the couch against the back wall, to the couch in front of the windows. The room seemed lightly dull at first, but the more you gazed, the more points of color stood out to you.

After having visually scoured the room, you summarized that the collection of books, European furniture, and art was not simply the doing of the building’s hypothetical interior designer. By his outfit and the look of the room, Dr. Lecter was a man of intellectuality, power, curiosity, and ambition. He was impressive.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the two seats in the middle of the room- each sat directly across from the other. Each had small tables next to them, but one had a book (presumably for taking notes on patients) and a box of tissues. You assumed the seat that the book and tissue box adorned table belonged to: was his. So you took the other seat, smoothing the bottom half of your clothing as you sat down. He took a seat across from you, crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly in his lap.

“I have no doubt you know why you’re here.” he said politely. He was direct, eyes still piercing into you. You were afraid to look away. You wanted to maintain the eye contact but at the same time, the socially nervous part of you longed to break it, longed to gaze around the sophisticated room instead of facing his perceptive gaze.

“Yes, Doctor.” you replied, finally working up the courage to break the mural stare and look down as you smiled at him. He returned a brief smile, and nodded once.

“So then, I hope you won’t mind if I list off the reasons you put for requesting my psychiatric assistance which led to us meeting today?” he inquired, taking his notebook from the small table next to him.

“Not at all, go ahead.” you gave him an encouraging nod and he opened his book. As he looked over a page, a realization came to you. You realized how intimate the placing of his chairs was. You mirrored him and put one leg over the other. You wondered if this was a tactic of his to create a sense of connection, equality. Interesting.

He began to list off the reasons of your current visit, words coated in that smooth accent. He finished and looked up at you.

“Is that all correct?”

“Yes,” you said, pausing a moment. There was some more, but this was only the first session. You hated the way it sounded so labeled when it was all laid out like that, so shallow. Realizing your answer might’ve seemed curt, you rushed to say more. “Yes, that’s all correct.”

He set his book down on the side table and looked at you for a moment. The thought crossed your mind that he might be waiting for you to speak, you were about to say something when he spoke at last.

“How do you feel right now, at this very particular moment?” he asked you, your last name politely slipping from his lips at the end of his question, eyes endlessly boring into you.

“I feel,” you hesitated, trying to come up with the right words. “Comfortable and welcomed. Yet nervous.”

“I’m glad you feel comfortable and welcomed, I try to provide sufficient hospitality for those in my care. Though, tell me, why do you feel nervous?” he asked.

“I’ve just met someone new. Someone who will be peering into my mind, learning the most personal parts of me. It’s an odd thought that a man I met a few minutes ago will come to know my mind so deeply.” you replied, watching Hannibal process your answer. He had a good poker face.

“Are you afraid of what I might uncover in the depths of your mind?” he asked.

“I think everyone’s a little afraid of what can be perceived in the most personal parts of their mentality. We all have only so much we express. To the eye it may seem to show enough, but there’s so much hidden where we store our deepest thoughts.” you replied. You liked the knowledgeable banter.

“Knowing those parts of you is a fundamental aspect to your treatment, as it is to any patient. I am not here to judge, or to exploit. I am here to come to know your being and attempt to help it in a way that is beneficial to your mental well-being.” he replied.

“You make a good point, Doctor.” you replied, flashing him a smile. He returned it, and opened his book.

“Well then, shall we begin?” he asked, his eyes still focused on yours.

“Of course.” you replied.

And so began your session with Hannibal Lecter, your new psychiatrist.

[faerie-goddess]

my chronic migraine/brain trauma/ptsd timeline is actually:

infancy was spent with horrendous ear infections that led to the discovery im allergic to penicillin and my left ear suffered major ear damage, i could only hear 75% as a child, its worse now. i had to have speech therapy as it affected how i learned to speak. -ages 1-3

whacked in the head with golf club (frontal bone, left side above eye) had to get stitches - age 3

first distinct memories of having migraines - grade school

got glasses; actually remember parents, fam and doctor encouraging/hoping/praying it would fix my migraines - 3rd grade

glasses dont magically fix migraine issue, lots of going to doctor and a neurologist, tests, CT scans, diet restrictions, pills, and weekends spent in the dark with a wet rag on my head while my parents hosted parties - 4th grade

dentist realizes i will need braces but also orders removal of 8 teeth and then i had spacers :) - 4th grade also!!

neurologist told my parents good news is nothing is showing up. i dont actually have any idea what was actually concluded. i only remember stopping the medicine(s) and being told we would go back after puberty????? i think it was abandoned and assumed i would "grow out of it" - between 4th and 5th grade

"your dad has enlisted and will be going away for 3 months for basic training" - 5th grade oh yeah so that explains why it was suddenly dropped.

lots of moments with my best friend erica's family on trips spent puking in public or their car from my migraines amd calls to my parents and my sweet friend stroking my head for me. when we played pretend at sleepovers we would try old school witchcraft and even resorted to black magic to try to cure me. light as a feather but her head stiff as a board no cap - 6th grade

me to my dad one summer day in the BK drive thru: hey dad... my left hand and arm are tingly hehehe is this puberty?

dad: hold these fries we are going to the ER right now

*hours later* ER doc: ah yes what your daughter is experiencing are migraine PRE-symptoms its quite normal for those who suffer from migraines often. its like a warning bell youre about to have one. hope this helps. thank you come again. -summer before 7th grade. this was the day i realized migraines are just basically microdosing having a stroke. i realized i could have a stroke one day over age 30 and i will chalk it up to another pesky ole migraine and will die. sometimes the problems choose you. this day/revelation was a major pillar in my decision to never get pregnant. in a nutshell: my quality of life already sucks lmao fuck adding more shit to it.

"your dad and i have decided its best we are your parents separately. oh also your dad is deploying to iraq so like though separate, we are united. okay? okay." - 7th grade

rehearsed cheer routine during halftime game for junior cheer team, i was a flyer, was thrown into basket toss, wasnt caught on my way down. i remember it all. everything about that day. everything but when i blacked out when i hit the ground. coach jumped onto field running to check on me, my mother screamed "my baby my baby my baby" made a huge show. i stood up and finished routine bc i am committed. it wasnt until i was re-telling this story at age 29 to my boss that i actually had a eureka moment when boss asked me "what did the ER say after? i bet you had a concussion!!! you poor thing!" and I was like "ummm what do you mean? my mom took me home?" I blacked out after hitting the ground for an unknown amount of time, and i was not even taken to get looked at after. - 7th grade, dad was deployed so i bet he would have taken me tbh.

migraines raged on, but remained fallen to the wayside because when my parents got too wrapped up in themselves, my migraine pain was dismissed, gaslit or simply ignored. (or made fun of.) i accepted there was no fixing it anymore and had for a long time, and was committed to just ... dealing with it. especially when kicked out my fathers house the summer i graduated high school, and was then promptly without health insurance until age 28. dealing with them is all i know.

i should add my rape to the timeline. most of it i dont recall. thank fucking heavens. but because it was a huge gap in time, i should consider if i received any head trauma during as well. who knows. the alcohol addiction i fell into after most definitely damaged my brain either way. - age 19.

so yeah if you see me getting uppity with either of my parents NOW who have the fucking balls to try to tell me "why dont you try using mind over matter?" im going to say with no holds barred right back to them "let me hit your head with a golf club and you tell me if YOU can use mind over matter"

im done with their narrative of throwing up their hands and being like welp oh well what can you do??? because what i have been doing is connecting all the fucking dots in my childhood and theyre painting a very obvious picture.

my migraines have to stem from BRAIN TRAUMA right?

i have huge memory lapses in most of my childhood and thats partly from many times spent laying with migraines and also because some blocks are there on purpose. one babysitter my brother and i had was abusive. she did a lot of fucked up things that i remember and i know she did worse bc recently these memories have been resurfacing to me!!! i will only mention what i think relates to migraines: this bitch would lock all the older kids outside every single day (i was one of the older kids) for hours and never would allow us back inside for anything. i was severely dehydrated and prob suffered from mild heat strokes. i remember crying my eyes out to her husband on a harder day when he would always bring the one alotted cup of apple juice bc i hated apple juice and would wail for water. i remember and even discussed in therapy how when i told my parents this they didnt take action. but when i told my grandma the babysitter ripped my 1 year old brother off her couch holding him by just 1 arm to toss his ass on the floor THEN did we finally get told we would be going to a new babysitter. again new memories have been resurfacing but only in flashes and i k n o w i suffered abuse there. i remember trying to find words for the shit i was seeing at age 6 that i didnt know the words to yet because i was 6 that now when these memories present themselves im reminded of how bad it was.

its just beyond infuriating and frustrating now all because my parents had it in their minds i would "grow out of it" so now that we are here presently still with my migraines.... unchanging. still roaring. still chronic. (nothings changed but my routine in preventing and caring which is damn better now that i am in control as a responsible adult BTW.) now that all proof of childhood neglect is staring them in the fucking face theyre blaming me actively in the tone of "you STILL cant figure them out?" which is.... hello???????? hello?!?!!! where do i even begin with that statement....

i just wanted to make this list to remind myself it isnt all in my head.

[tom-holland-parker]

What Baby??

Summary: Dating the leader of the toughest gang in London was bound to gain you enemies. So after one particular encounter Y/N in sent to the hospital to recover but they didn’t expect this news

Pairing: Mob!Tom x reader

Warning: Car crash, slight mention of violence

Word count: 1453

Masterlist

The day started off so normal. Well as normal as it gets for the Mobster’s girlfriend. The morning was filled with boring meetings that you spent half asleep in your boyfriend's lap. Your head resting on his shoulder as his hand rubbed your thigh as a way to stay calm. But towards the afternoon you were bored with the constant meetings that had nothing to do with you. As the room began to fill up again you got up from Tom’s lap. “What’s wrong love?” He looked up worried

You shook your head bending down to give him a kiss, “I’m going shopping”. He nodded his head in understanding. “Take Harry with you” 

You rolled your eyes at how protective he was but didn’t argue as Harry stood from his spot at the table. After you got changed you met Harry in the garage. He stood by the black range rover waiting for you to get in the passenger side. “Harry when are you gonna let me drive?” 

He looked at you and laughed, “Not after last time, you almost killed us”. You faked a shocked expression, “The speed limit is a suggestion” 

He rolled his eyes and pulled out the driveway. Harry already knew your usual shopping spots considering you and him went shopping together at least once a week. It was fun to be with Harry. He was like the older brother you never had. It also helped that he always knew all the information that Tom didn’t tell you. 

“So Harry” You turned towards him as he stared on the road, “Tom’s been so on edge lately. Any idea why?” 

He glanced at you before looking at the road, “Y/N I love you but I'm not telling you anything”. You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. “Oh come on I just want to help him relax but I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s going on” 

Harry sighed, “I’m only telling you this because I care about my brother” he stopped at the red light and turned to you. “Tom’s currently fighting with another Mob and they have a history of being extremely violent so he’s just worried for the family” 

You sat in your seat trying to think of something to say. Terrible thoughts entered your head, “Oh”. Now you understood why Tom brushed you off every time you asked him about how stressed he was. “Don’t worry I know Tom he can fix this. I have faith in him” 

Harry chuckled and parked the car. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. You’re overthinking now” You smiled, “Nothing a little retail therapy can’t fix”. He chuckled as you both got out of the car and walked into the expensive stores. 

///

“We need to go out soon because I need an excuse to wear those shoes” You joked as you put the shopping bags in the trunk of the car. 

“Your feet are gonna hurt before the end of the night” Harry joked as he got into the driver side. You sat in the passenger seat fixing your lipgloss as he pulled out the parking spot and began driving home. You rolled your eyes at how slow he drove. “Harry you drive like a grandma, speed up” 

He smirked and glanced at you, “Like this?” The car suddenly sped up. The monitor going from 45 to 90 in a matter of seconds. You were glad there were no cars on the long road. “Faster” You shouted as you turned up the music. He chuckled a sped up a little more, now going 95 mph.

As you got closer to the crowded street you began to wonder why he hadn’t slowed down. Turning to him you saw a look of worry on his face, “Harry slow down” You begged

“I can’t” he shouted repeatedly stomping his foot on the break, “The breaks aren’t working”

Your eyes widened in fear. “Put your seatbelt on” He shouted, still trying to get the car to work correctly. You did as you were told, putting the seat belt on before turning to him, the car began to swerve uncontrollably off the road into the line of trees. You grabbed his hand wanting some sort of comfort as the car hit the tree. 

///

Everything around you was blurry and white. It took you a few minutes to realize you were in the hospital only coming to the realization when you tried to move. The IV hurt more every time you tried to move. When you finally sat up your head felt like it was going to explode. You grabbed your glasses from the nightstand by your table hoping they would relieve your headache. 

“Oh thank god you're up” You heard your boyfriend's worried voice fill the room as you turned to look at him. He looked terrible like he hadn’t slept at all. “I was so worried about you” 

He went to pull you in for a hug but stopped realizing you were in pain, “I’ll tell the nurse you’re awake” He rushed out the room returning moments later with the nurse. She checked your IV and grabbed the clipboard by the bed before leaving to get the doctor. 

You turned to Tom, “What happened? How long have I been here?” 

He sat at the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing your shin through the thin blanket. “You’ve been here for a few hours'' he looked at his phone then back at you, “car crashed” 

“What about my shoes?” you joked hoping it would lighten the mood in the room. He chuckled, “only you would think about shoes when your stuck in a hospital bed with a broken leg and a concussion”

You smiled, “They were nice shoes”. He sighed looking at you, “The brakes on the car were cut and that’s why Harry couldn’t stop the car.” 

You sat up pulling the blanket off, “I have to go see Harry” Tom grabbed your arm stopping you from jumping out the bed, “Harry is completely fine the car crashed more on your side so you suffered more damage”

He looked at the door then back at you, “nothing but a broken wrist and a few bruises for him”. You took a deep breath before sitting back into the bed. Tom ran his hands through his hair as tears began to form in his eyes. “I don’t know what I would do without you guys” 

You reached to hug him holding his head to your chest. “Don’t worry everything is okay” 

“This is my fault” Tears travelled down his cheeks and he shook his head in shame, “I should’ve been with you” 

“Tom stop” You lifted his head, “Look things like this happen and I know that you’ll make sure they never happen again” You kissed him softly, “I love you”. You wiped his tear away before kissing him again, “I love you too” He whispered holding you closer. You laid in each other's arms for a few minutes before the doctor entered the room. 

“Ah Mrs. Holland” Even though you weren’t married to Tom everyone still called you that, “I'm glad you’re awake”. Tom got up from besides you staring at the doctor. “It seems I have good news and bad” 

He looked at your file before looking between you and Tom. “bad news first” You demanded wanting to get it over with. 

“Well you’re going to be on bedrest for a couple months while you recover”. You sighed knowing that bedrest is going to drive you insane. 

“And the good news?” Tom asked as he grabbed your hand. The doctor smiled, “Your baby is perfectly fine” Your eyes widened in shock. You and Tom looked at each other before slowly looking back at the doctor. “What baby?” You both shouted at the same time

The doctor chuckled nervously, “You’re 3 months pregnant” 

“No no no I can’t be pregnant” You said in disbelief, “I’ve been getting my period and we use condoms plus I'm on birth control” You tried to think of any flaw in his facts. 

“Well there was that one time” Tom said quietly. Your head shot towards him, “What time?” 

“3 months ago, that would’ve been your birthday” Your eyes widened as you remembered how drunk you both were on your birthday. There were no more condoms but you too were too in the moment to care. 

“Omg my god I’m pregnant” You said in shock before reality hit, “OMG IM PREGNANT”

All the pain had temporarily been forgotten as you jumped to hug Tom tears of joy falling down both your faces. The doctor chuckled, “I’ll go tell your family they can see you now”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “It Can’t Hurt to Try.”

My brain wanted to write this today, and so this is what I have written. I hope you all enjoy :)

I realize I have sort of Neglected Adam’s past, though I am not sure how I did that, so today I wanted to write some more.

More than three years ago.

“Mom, you don’t have to really…. I’m ok.” Martha turned to look at Adam  and the expression on her face shut him up instantly. He slid back in his seat slouching against the car interior. Off to his left side, his new service dog, who he had named waffles, was lying politely across the seat, her head resting on his thigh, her service vest bright red in the noonday sun streaming in through the window.

The car rumbled under them looking out of place in a city of sleek hover cars. Their tires rolled to a stop at an intersection, as a crash nexus wove itself into existence before the waiting line of cars. Running red lights was a near impossibility in the city and had reduced vehicular accidents by 25%.

Marha turned to look at him over the back of the seat, “Adam let your father and I worry about finances, you just relax.”

He sat up in his seat again pushing his crutches to rest against the window, “But mom do you know how much those cost, I looked it up and….” “Shhhh.” Martha held up a finger, “Just sshhh, your father and I own the house and the car. We could make ends meet if your father was working at the Burger Barn, and I was sitting at home twiddling my thumbs.” 

Adam’s usually Laconic father grunted his agreement, “Besides, this is why your mother and I have a separate account for medical emergencies.”

“But what if YOU have a medical emergency.” he protested thinking about the farm and how easy it would be for his father to get caught in an accident with the massive farming equipment they used.”

“Im old.” his father said, though he wasn’t very old at all.

“What does that have to do with-”

“Boy, just shut up, you’re mother and I have made a decision because we love our kids, and if that means selling the damn house and living in a tent we are going to do it.”

Adam lapsed into silence again. His father’s tone broached no argument. A whimper came from somewhere below him, and he looked down to see that Waffles had scooted so her paws and head were resting on his leg, her tail beat against  the car seat, and she looked at him with big golden eyes.

Her paws were a might bit large for her, but that was because she wasn’t even a year old yet, but even so she was still the best girl. She whimpered again, reminding him to relax and he took a few breaths.

Adam wasn’t so good at dealing with stress these days, though Waffles turning up in his life had been a marked improvement. The doctors said he had finally turned a corner with his mental health, though they suggested he look into getting a real prosthetic if he wanted to recover any further.

They said it would be good for his morale.

He glanced down at his current prosthetic, no more than a black rod of metal with a spring loaded joint and a fake foot at the end. It was army issue, so complete garbage, and he still had to use crutches when wearing it with the amount he tended to trip. He imagined being able to run again…. To really do anything again, and looked down at his body, which had grown thin and skeletal over the past few months of PTSD recovery.

He hadn’t been eating all that much, and his desire to workout had faded with it, instead he had spent most of his time in a hypervigilant state of alertness that left little time for things like eating or working out. When waffles came along, that had morphed into him lying in bed for days on end sleeping on and off while listening to music or listening to his collection of old Star Trek movies on Repeat.

It had been a hard transition to being functional again, which just meant that he was eating now, and went on walks in the morning with waffles. 

He was determined to make it all the way, though he couldn’t say he approved all that much of his parents throwing away so much money on a fancy prosthetic. An older model would have done, but they insisted that they wanted the best. 

The car ground to a stop in the parking garage outside of the Elmridge University robotics lab, and his mother walked around one side to open the door for him as he adjusted his crutches and stepped out into the musty underground air. Waffles leaped out behind him, sticking tight to his left side.

“You good?” His mother asked, and he nodded limping his way after them as they made it towards the doors.

Students at this university had been working on prosthetic technology for the pat fifty years, and their minds had spawned some of the greatest breakthroughs in medical technology the world over. Now, they were asking for people like him to come and test their machines. However things didn’t always come cheap and you had to rely on being rich, or getting some kind of funding from a wealthy benefactor. 

Adam Vir, who was not rich and had no wealth benefactors was instead relying on his parents and their medical savings, which they had been squirreling away for the past twenty years or more. He estimated that the account would be completely drained by the time they were done here, and the thought made him sick to his stomach.

Waffles touched his hand with her wet nose, reminding him to breathe again.

They made it all the way to the doors and into the university hallway. Adam looked around with some interest. He had what might be considered the equivalent of a masters degree or higher in aviation, but he had never stepped foot inside a university.

He thought he would have liked it, and had to brush away the regret that he had never gone for real.

The flight academy had been enough though.

Though it was likely he would never fly again. Waffles whimpered and jumped up on her back paws seeing his distress and working to keep his mind off of it. He took another deep breath. She was right, he just needed to relax.

Together with his family they walked down the hall and into the waiting room of room 125 where they made him rest in one of the hard plastic chairs as they went up to the desk. He rubbed Waffle’s ears, and she rumbled at him lightly.

“And you all must be with Adam Vir.”

They nodded in agreement.

Adam looked up as the girl came out from behind the desk. She had long black hair tied up in a messy ponytail and wore a band T-shirt over a striped long sleeve shirt. She wore glasses, was his age, and was very cute.

He had to look down at the floor.

She knelt next to him, “Can I?” She asked 

Still looking away he untied the rubber band holding the pant leg closed and pulled it back so she could see the stump of his leg.

She pulled something from her back pocket and pressed it up against the old wound. It was cold and soft and he grimaced as he looked down. When she pulled back he realized she had been taking a mold of his leg. She smiled at him, “Just twenty more minutes and we can have you come back.”

He nodded and they let her go. His parents sat on either side of them, his mom took him by the shoulder and shook, “Isn’t this exciting.”

Adam gave a weak smile.

His father picked up a robotics magazine and began to read, showing Adam things of interest as he read them. Adam’s stomach churned with nerves.

After less than fifteen minutes, the girl skipped back into the room, “We’re ready for you.” She announced, and slowly, he moved to his feet limping ack behind the desk and following her down a short hallway and into a large open room.

Here there was a small indoor track, some obstacles, and even a physical therapy table.

A cluster of students sat around the table waiting for them, headed by an older heavyset professor with a short grey beard and a lanyard hanging around his neck.

He reached out to shake their hands as they approached.

Adam glanced at a sleek silver case sitting on the PT table next to the man.

The old professor grinned at him, “Are you ready?”

The students clustered inward eagerly. This was likely the first time one of their creations was going to be used.

Adam nodded nervously, and the man reached forward, snapping the case open and in to reveal….

Adam muttered in slight surprise. The leg looked, good, something straight out of I-robot. It was sleek and elegant with silvered matt titanium and plexiglass casing to fill out the shape of a leg. He could see the fibrous strands of rubberized metal that acted as muscle underneath the plexiglass.

“Wow.”

“Do you like it? My students worked very hard on this project, and the best part is the neron interfacing net that cradles the leg in place and suctions it onto the skin. All across the plexiglass fronting there are microsensors built to detect heat, cold, pressure and vibration. The entire foot is designed to work like a human foot and all the tooes can flex individually. He picked up the leg, reached down and grabbed the foot, behding it around the ankle with a movement as smooth as ice, “The ankle joint can rotate in all the proper directions, and the most revolutionary part, the interface, should collect signals being sent through your neurons to your missing leg, pick those up and interpret them to move the leg just as your own brain would, and better yet send feedback signals in the reverse direction.”

He clapped Adam on the shoulder, “In other words, it will FEEL like a real leg, how does that sound.”

Adam’s mouth opened and then closed and then opened again, “Um…. amazing but…. Impossible if I am being honest.”.

“Well, moment of truth isn’t it.”

He nodded sitting down on the PT bench and rolling up his pant leg again. He tried to ignore all the people watching him, and listened to the professor as he instructed him on how to put it on. It socketed right over his  old injury and as it did he felt an immediate and sudden vibration run through his body as if the leg were whirring to life.

And when it did he froze.

He stared down at the leg, and slowly, with all the memory his brain still had, he flexed the toes.

The sensation was instantaneous and glorious. He put his hand over his mouth fighting back tears that began welling into his eyes.

His parents gasped in delight and an overabundance of emotion as the others at back in silence. His mother hugged him tight as did his father, all three of them staring at the machine, which moved on his command. 

Before he knew it he was grinning, turning to look around at everyone even as he had to wipe tears from his cheeks.

He could feel again!

The relief was so complete and so overwhelming that he couldn’t pick between laughing or crying

“Take it slow.” The professor said, but he hardly heard him, and with a wobbly step he slowly climbed to his feet. He began to laugh and his parents laughed with him hugging him and shaking him with excited exceleration as he took his first step. He closed his eyes in near ecstasy as the foot bent under his weight, the ankle flexed,and the toes splayed out over the ground.

He dropped his crutches to the floor ignoring the urging of the professor who was only half heartedly telling him to slow down.

He took another step, and then another and then another, slow and wobbly at first but then muscle memory took over after that.

His brain remembered, it remembered and despite months with a missing leg, it woke up the part of his brain charged to deal with that movement, and despite what must have been atrophy after months of misuse, it began to fire again.

He broke into a jog, as his father ran next to him, and then the jog turned into a run, his father fell behind as he broke into a full out sprint around the small indoor track. Laughing the whole way as the leg matched him. The students here cheering and clapping and hugging each other as they watched him interact with their creation excitedly shaking each other and screaming.

Adam, forgetting momentarily how to stop running, ended up tripping on his good foot, flailing around for a moment and falling to the floor.

He didn’t stop laughing though, and crawled back to his feet, with all the ease he might have had when he had both legs.

Waffles  barked and wagged her tail furiously as she ran to join him, hopping and bounding over the floor as he played a game of chase with her immediately forcing the leg to its full potential as they made quick turns, stopped and started and leaped into the air. He ran up and down stairs and jumped over their obstacles feeling the shock through his feet and ankles.

Unfortunately for him, months of sitting on his ass hadn’t exactly made him all that athletic and he came to a stop eventually panting like waffles only to grab every one of the students in turn and hug them in an embrace so tight it might have fractured ribs.

He was so excited, so grateful, and so unbelievably relieved.

It was an incredible moment, for him, for the students, for his parents, and for his professor.

He limped into that building but skipped out on his new leg.

Getting in the car its as if he had taken a one eighty in personality. His quiet sullen demeanor from before was replaced with something his parents hadn’t seen in ages.

The ability to not shut up.

He talked a mile a minute in his excitement yammering fit to talk their ears right off, and they let him. It was good to hear him back to his old self for once. His father was smiling more than he had in a long while, and on his left side, facing away from his son and his wife, a tear rolled down his cheek.

***

He wasn’t overly sure what he was doing. 

He didn’t have high hopes that they would even take him back. After all, He was set to be honorably discharged later that week, seeing as the UNSC had finally gotten around to dealing with the men and women injured during operation Steel Eye, but he had decided not to do that. He wanted to go back, and he had the paperwork to prove he was mentally stable enough to do so.

Now it was just down to whether they would let him work with a missing leg.

He nervously made his way onto the fort Harmony base where he had been stationed so long ago. Off in the distance he could hear the dull roaring of jet engines as they readied for takeoff, and watched as columns of other soldiers marched in the early morning sun. Light was spilling across, warm and yellow over the dw colored grass as he made his way towards the central building.

He stepped inside and passed a couple other officers  in the hallway as he walked up to the offices.

He looked down at the paper he held in his hand.

He had only meant the captain once, and that was very briefly, but he hoped that the man would be willing to hear him out. He paused outside the man’s open door, and then peered inside. The captain was sitting at his desk frowning at the papers stacked before him, tapping his fingernail against the counter. Light glittered off his completely shaved head and dark skin.

He knocked quietly and stepped inside.

“Sir?”

The man looked up frowning at Adam without much recognition.

“Yes?”

“Um, Lieutenant Adam Vir, sir…. I was hoping to speak with you.”

The man sat back in his seat and frowned again, “Adam V-”

He paused, “Wait.”

He rummaged in his desk and pulled out a set of papers, glancing at the name at the top before setting them down, “Ah yes, Adam, I was just getting to your discharge for-” he glanced down at the paper again, and then back up at Adam, and then back down again. Adam stood politely behind the single wooden chair and waited.

When the man didn’t speak Adam awkwardly cleared his throat, “About those papers sir….I…. well I was meaning to talk to you about those.”

“Yes I was going to si-”

Adam shook his head cutting the man off, “No sir, I…. I don’t want you to sign them.”

There was a pause, “You don’t?”

“Yes sir.”

He set the papers down on the desk.

“You have the opportunity to be honorably discharged for services rendered and you…. Want to stay?”

He saw the incredulity on the man’s face as he spoke.

The guy must have thought he was stupid. 

The man looked over the desk at him <”Says you lost a leg during the Drev war kid.”

Adam shifted uncomfortably, “Well yes sir.’

“Then by all rights we HAVE to discharge you.”

“No, I got a new one.”

“A new one what?”

“I have a new leg, sir, just as good as the old one. I can pass all the tests, physical, mental whatever you want me to do sir, please, just give me a chance.”

The man stared at him, Adam stared back, “You’re missing a leg kid.”

“Not anymore I’m not. UNSC regulations say that people who have had stem cell organs from their own body transplanted don’t need to be discharged, well this is similar to that. I didn’t have a leg, and now I do, and one that works just as well as the old one therefore it shouldn’t matter.”

He didn’t mean to argue with the Captain, but well that’s what it kind of turned into.

The argument must have been loud enough to attract the attention of some of the other officers and a voice from the door behind them had both of them pull up short, “Is everything alright here.”

Adam turned and his eyes went wide, “Captain Kelly!”

She stepped into full view and his eyes grew wider. He saluted sharply, “Oh, sorry, Major.”

SHe looked at him with her head tilted, “I'll be damned, lieutenant, what are you doing back here.: She looked him up and down, “And in one piece or so it seems.”

“Advanced robotics ma’am…. Maybe you can help us?”

She frowned, “Go on.”

The Captain cut in, “The boy doesn’t want to be discharged. If anything that proves he must be smoking crack.”

Adam frowned, “No Ijust….” he trailed off, “I loved my job…. Before the, losing my leg, bit.” he turned to Major Kelly, “Please Ma’am i’ll prove it. Better than I was before, honest”

She frowned, “It is…. Unprecedented, but…. There aren’t really any rules regarding advanced robotics that I can think of. We will have to talk it over.”

Turns out talking it over meant months of arguing semantics with bureaucrats and even more months of testing and proving that he was, in fact capable of operating like normal. They tested everything, including his prosthetic’s ability to handle G forces…. And he finally got to fly again. It was only by a small margin that he managed to convince them to let him back in, and even then he was relegated to guard detail on what the human medical core was calling an oxyclinic, where a couple of enterprising humans learned that spooning aliens actually helped to treat some mental disturbances in other species like the alien version of depression.

Turned out it was pretty good for him considering he had developed a small fear of aliens since his last encounter. When he wasn’t guarding the clinic, he volunteered to work for them in order to overcome his fear.

He was slowly getting back to normal.

***

Major Kelly sat at her desk looking at the schematics for the new ship under construction. The UNSC Enterprise had been completely decommissioned after engineers determined her to have too many fatal flaws to allow her to fly again. Kelly had only been captain for a little over a year before she had been pulled, and this was her chance to get back on the horse. She looked down at the papers, the schematics and then the second letter from the UN which offered her a second alternative.

A promotion to Admiral, and control over what would soon be a rising fleet of UNSC ships.

It was a hard decision to make. Every fiber in her body wanted to fly again, to see the stars again, and she was halfway to writing her agreement on the captain’s contract when she stopped. She had to think about it, if she took the promotion and gave up the ship, she would never fly again…. But she would have control over the rising UNSC fleet. Under her control she was sure she could help those rising captains avoid the bureaucratic bullshit that was sure to come after them.

In essence, they had one chance to do this right, 

And more chances to get in good with the GA. If she took the position, she could fill it with someone she trusted to back the men and get the job done.

herself .

She stared at the two papers torn between her own desire and the path she knew that was right.

It was a matter of milliseconds that allowed her to agree to the promotion, and leave flying behind. It hurt every fiber of her being and even as she sat warm tears dripped onto the schematics of the ship that would have been hers if she had asked for it.

However, her decision made, she was promoted in short order as Admiral of the UNSC rising fleet, and thus had the power to make suggestions for who should take the ship in her stead. She made a decision pretty early on, and reached out a hand to the GA in helping to come to their decision. It was all about making a good impression on their newfound friends, and lending them the UNSC’s first operational ship under new fleet command would, not only give the captain of that ship the opportunity to school themselves in the ways of alien races,  but it would leave the GA with a greater inclination of friendship.

She was right in her assumptions, and the GA was more than pleased to have some say in choosing the human captain who would be lent out to them on a probationary bases, as a PR move and as a tactical manuver for the UNSC to learn more about these alien races.

Now she had to compile her list of possible candidates.

There were ten names on that list.

All of them had to be capable of flying the ship, at least and all of them had to have some experience with interacting with alien lifeforms.

Looking at her list, however, she realized that not many people on that list had those capabilities. Sure they could fly but most of them only ever met an alien in passing.

It was sitting in her office late one night agonizing over the names that one popped into her head. She sat up in her chair and stared past her desk lamp and out the window into the darkness.

It was a strange idea.

Crazy almost.

Probably ill advised, but, out of all the people she knew, he was certainly CAPABLE of flying a ship…. And he WAS the most experienced person hse knew with aliens. Perhaps THE most experienced person in the galaxy. 

But no…

He was so young, far too young.

But…. why?

It’s not like he hadn’t proven himself, he was loyal, unstoppable and personable, which goodness knows they needed when it came to alien interactions. Looking down at her paper there were more than half of those men and women she wouldn’t trust at a birthday party let alone at a GA diplomatic event.

She added his name to the list. It couldn’t hurt, could it?

[smalltragedy]

* natalia dyer, nonbinary + she/they | you know philomena carmichael, right? they’re twenty-one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, a day? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to oo-de-lally by roger miller like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole wind whipping around your hair, the gentleness of decomposition, a naked blur dancing around the flames of an everlasting fire thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is april 20th, so they’re a taurus, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 22, est, they/them )

hiii im back ... tentatively .. looks at u all ominously

CANCER, TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION, DEATH, GRAPHIC MENTION OF DECAY, INSECTS MENTION TW.

mini playlist.

oo-de-lally / roger miller, wonderfully bizarre / bendigo fletcher, dust in your pocket / glass animals, gecgecgec / 100 gecs, nantes / beirut, cherry-coloured funk / cocteau twins, not allowed / tv girl, space song / beach house, dog food / 100 gecs.

statistics.

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, mena, etc.

birthday: april 20th, 2000.

zodiac: taurus sun, scorpio moon, aries ascending.

temperament: improvisor / phlegmatic.

label: the halycon.

sexuality: demisexual.

pinterest.

biography.

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are … eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

cancer tw // it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children … it doesn’t last for too long. end of cancer tw //

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels…less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen … van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way.

during particularly desperate times, they two resorted to identity theft & credit fraud - getting away with it only by ditching the cards once they’ve made it out of state.

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

depersonalization / derealization tw // it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs. depersonalization / derealization end of tw //

death, decay. maggots tw // there is trauma though, deep-rooted but somewhere inside - you just have to look for it.

you. just. have. to. look. for. it. look for it. look for it. look for it look for it look -

you were ten and she was thirteen, an off-trail hike in familiar woods in a familiar town, safe and familiar. it was your idea, to stray from the carved out paths, down creeks and up hills and round, and round again. you’re the one who spotted the scarf first, sticking up from the dirt and dancing in the wind like the beginning of reincarnation. it was not reincarnation, it was discovery. it was ruin. with curiosity drawn, you skidded down - with compliance, followed juno, followed your sister - clumsy in her steps and tumbling down quicker than you. you saw the corpse, but juno felt it. decaying flesh and maggot. end of death, decay, maggots tw //

and she left juno, just like that - just five years later, when juno had finally gone to the end of her wits. philly up and left. abandoned her.

philomena and elektra leave the city after that therapy session. they do not return. she’s always been good at hiding her secrets.

after ending up with warrants from their arrest in florida (after running from the law in texas), philly and elektra have wound up at irving <3 partially hiding from the law and partially bcos their trusty van’s broken down and they haven’t got the money to fix her up yet.

personality & facts.

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon.

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been.

currently living in florence, their van, with her sister elektra <3 currently residing in lilac ridge.

they used to live in motels on the occasion, the cheapest room, and more often than not they’d both go home with strangers for a comfier bed and a hotter shower.

it was a common occurrence - she didn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weaseled her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her. (smirks at leo)

will consume anything you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her. third favorites? florence, of course. fleetwood mac. the bird and the bee.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggling.

also, accordion.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

( like her frequent visits to the woods, late at night when the moon is high and full. it’s freeing to dance around a fire, stark naked in the cold. builds immunity )

comes and goes wherever she pleases, nothing & nobody can stop her (besides elektra).

has a certain knack for getting animals to like her. has too many ‘pet’ rats that reside with her, alongside a baby raccoon & a few crow pals. has a new animal companion everyday, but she doesn’t contain them or force them to stay.

wanted plots.

speaking through my third eye ... ;; philly is new in town n shes very strange. constantly lives in a state in which she does not exist (at least on the same plane). this is her harassing the locals. this is her slipping thru their fingertips as they attempt 2 understand her. they get close smtms bt philly jst. whisks herself away.

hollows of our eyelids ... ;; perhaps there is smbdy jst as strange as philly. i’m out here calling fr all the weirdos. lets be friends. lets hv philly n co go on adventures n discover horrible sites n uncover ancient secrets tht lie deep below irving. mayb nt tht. bt im jst saying. this is fr the dreamers. da weirdos. the jugheads. LHKDSHFSADLKGFHLSKADG fr those who also feel as if they r not real.

bills n aches n blues... ;; ya this is my call fr all negative plots. bills (catching philly be a thief and a fraud), aches (mayb heartache? unrecruited feelings or w/e theyre called?), n blues (ooooh so sad... so sad ... angst ...) obviously i am a genius. i wldnt say tht philly is here 2 make enemies bc philly doesnt care much abt ppl bt perhaps tht cld b an issue. tht she doesnt care much abt others. mayb ur muse is jst like. cn u pls care. n philly is like. i am incapable. sry. sucks.

n also ,, ;; like. anything i’ll. take anything. philly is weird lets come up w surreal plots tht verge on the edge of like. nt being correct fr this verse. suddenly theres vampires? or so they think ... smirks. anyways. shes been 2 jail n been in the circus n dances naked in the woods n hoards animals n treasures. we hv a lot to work with here obv.

[ofmiceandbswag]

Gonna try something different for a while:

I have a really hard time taking care of myself. I want to do better. I have been in a horrible mindset for literal years. Any time I get a little moment something happens and just knocks me 10 steps back. But I’m tired of living that way and letting everything affect me. I know it’s easier said than done and I’ve always been a list person so here is my list.

-delete dating apps: they’re trash and I’ve been on them for years with no luck.

-ask people to hang out: I normally wait to be invited but I’m not doing that anymore. If I want to do something I’m gonna ask someone. It’s been really hard to make friends since moving for a lot of reasons but I feel like I’ve kept to myself and not put myself out there ENOUGH. Dr. Tim himself told me this as well.

-exercise a little bit everyday: this means getting up early to beat the heat and finding activities I enjoy. I like my walks at the park but I wanna try yoga again.

-eat good food: it’s so easy to just do takeout. I’ve developed an eating disorder that I am working on. I think having good food at the house at all times will help. But now I have to make sure to get to the grocery consistently. This is also means to eat consistently. I will go as long as possible without eating and the binge and I want to break the cycle.

-take therapy into my own hands: sometimes I feel like I don’t get enough out of my sessions even though I feel like I’m being pretty open. Im a lot more closed off than I think. I want to come to therapy with a journal of the week or however long it’s been and have questions and topics to bring up so I can take control of my life.

-go to the doctors consistently: I have started this by making all of my appointments. I need new glasses and I know I should be on some medication for my anxiety and depression. As much as I fight it I know it’ll help. Also mention thoughts of relating to adhd and see if it’s just anxiety or a combination of all 3 aforementioned.

-communicate better: I have a hard time saying no or I’m too chill and accept things that I do not want. This is both professional and personal.

-work on attachment issues: I’m constantly latching on to my significant person too quickly and I get disappointed from my own thoughts. I want to learn to be more grounded end let things develop.

-develop a cleaning schedule: pretty straightforward. I have issues with prioritizing my space. I truly live better when I’m not surrounded by filth and clutter as anyone would. But I notice a huge difference In my mood so I want to do better in this department.

I’m sure there’s more but this is a good start.

[scenecipriano]

Such Horrible Things(6)

Chapter Six: When They Were Fourteen…

Summary: Roman and Remus Hartfield are identical twins, with Roman being only two minutes and fifty-two seconds older than Remus. The two are polar opposites, Roman the loud and boisterous twin who loved Disney and various musicals, and Remus the twin who preferred to keep to himself until he grew close to you and showed his true chaotic nature. But is Remus really the chaotic one? Or is it the brother that people least expect…

Warnings: Unsympathetic Roman, Blood, Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Mildly Unsympathetic Logan and Patton, Implied/Reference to Character Death (In later chapters)

TW For this chapter: Animal cruelty, death mention

AU Type: Human

Ships: Logicality, (Toxic) Roceit (In later chapters), and Dukexiety (In later chapters)

——————–

Roman was bored, hopelessly uttering bored. Most summers for him weren't bored considering he had Remus to torment, but no this summer his twin decided to go to art camp. Their papa tried to convince him to go as well, but Roman wasn't about to go to some stupid camp and get eat up with multiple mosquitos while being surrounded by annoying kids. Roman sighs as he stabs the pointed stick he had through the abdomen of the frog he had pinned down, its guts and blood splattering against the warm rock it was pinned to. If Remus were here, his arm would be in the frog's place. The fourteen-year-old couldn't help but snort in amusement at the thought.

   "Can hear him now, 'Please, Ro let me go! I'll tell!' he's always been such a bitch." Roman mutters as he stabs the frog over and over again, causing more of its blood to paint the rock a dark red.

    This would be something that would chill his papa to the bone, honestly, he didn't understand how a grown man could be so childish. 'I bet he screams like a girl, he does whenever he and dad decide to get freaky.'  Roman chuckles to himself as he drags the stick down, cutting the frog's stomach completely open, watching as its guts spill completely out.

    "Roman! Dinner time kiddo!" His papa calls.

     The teen stares down at the frog's mutilated corpse for a moment, the time ticking away. A smirk forms on Roman's face as he scoops the frog up, ignoring the bloody mess that was becoming of his hands.

     "Coming, papa!"

     Roman stuffs the dead frog into his pocket, he wipes his hands clean on the grass as to not distress his papa about the alarming amount of blood that was gathered on them. He pushes himself up from the ground and runs towards his house, a giddy feeling seeping into his chest, 'This is going to be fun...'

    As Roman stood at the sink, preparing to wash his hands, he took the opportunity to slip the dead frog into the silverware drawer, knowing that his papa was always forgetful when it came to setting the utensils out. Roman chuckles as he quickly closes the drawer back, washing his hands good to get rid of the dirt and leftover blood. Once his hands were cleaned and dried, Roman took his seat at the table where his parents were waiting.

   "So, how was your day today, Roman?" His dad asks.

    "It was okay, little boring without Rem here..."

    "Kiddo, you sure you don't want to join him at camp? I think you would have a lot of fun!" His papa chimes in.

     Roman sneers his nose up, 'What are they trying to do? Get rid of me?'

     "Patton, sweetheart you forgot the silverware again."

     "Shoot! You're right, I'll be right back!"

     A grin forms on Roman's face, he sits up straighter in his chair. Softly he begins to count down, he covers his mouth to muffle his laugh when a high pitched scream comes from the kitchen. He watched as his dad moved away from the table to check on his papa, a sound of disgust tells him that his dad has seen the heavily mutilated frog. Roman couldn't help the small giggle that left his mouth.

    "Roman Winston Hartfield! Did you put this frog in the drawer?"

    "I thought it was something cool, papa! Don't you like it? ...I did it myself."

    The way Roman spoke sent a chill up Patton's spine, he glances over to Logan who looked as equally spooked by their fourteen-year-old. Logan takes a deep breath and steps back into the dining room, he narrows his eyes at Roman.

    "Well, what you did wasn't nice, Roman. You're grounded, now go get that frog out of here and be sure to wash your hands again when you're done."

    Roman's jaw went slack as he stares at his father, 'He can't be serious?'

    "You're grounding me, over a harmless, prank? That's not fair!!"

    "Life isn't fair, Roman, now do as you're told or your grounding will last longer than a week," Logan scolds.

     Roman softly growls under his breath as he stands from the dining room table, he pushes past his father making sure to shove the older man a bit as he does. He grabs the frog, making sure to squeeze a bit more blood out of it, staining the silverware as he does. Roman stomps outside and hurls the dead frog across the backyard.

    "You want to ground me for something stupid? Fine, but I'm going to give you a reason to ground me you ass."

    Roman learned the hard way that cutting something's head off wasn't as easy as television made it out to be. That and all he had was a kitchen knife, but he was able to saw through the rabbit's neck. That morning when he heard his parents mixed screams, Roman smiled and for once it reached his eyes.

   "I don't want to go!!" Roman screams as he tries to pull away from his papa. When Patton tightens his grip, that led to his son screaming even louder. After the bunny incident and various other incidents that Patton really didn't want to talk about right now, he and Logan thought it was best that Roman see a psychiatrist.

  "You don't get a choice, Roman! Now stop fighting!"

   With one final tug, Patton was able to pull Roman into the psychiatrist's office, it was the same doctor that they had Remus seeing. Dr. Emile Picani stares at them with shocked brown eyes. Patton offers him an apologetic smile as he forces Roman to sit in one of the brown leather chairs in front of Emile's oak desk.

  "I'm going to assume this is, Roman?" Emile asks.

  "Yes, sorry he's... He's having a difficult time right now."

  Roman barks out a humorless laugh, catching both adult's attention as he does.

  "More like you and dad are having a difficult time, I told you that I didn't want to fucking be here."

  Patton softly scolds Roman for his language, which only led to the teen rolling his eyes at his papa's weak discipline actions. Emile clears his throat, capturing both of Roman and Patton's attention. He offers Roman a polite smile as he pushes his pink glasses up the bridge of his nose.

 "Well, Roman, it's nice to make your acquaintance. Patton, you can step out now I'd like to have a chat with Roman."

 Patton takes a shaky breath and nods, closing the door behind him as he leaves. Roman huffs and folds his arms over his chest, sliding down into his chair as he glares at the smiling doctors face.

 "So, why don't you tell me a little about yourself Roman?"

  Psychopathic tendencies are what Emile had called it. Roman had been seeing for a good two weeks now, and that was what the good doctor came up with was psychopathic tendencies. Sure, Roman lacked empathy, or a real conscience apparently not having a little voice in your head telling you right from wrong wasn't normal. Roman remembers his papa breaking down into tears, he remembers rolling his eyes at the man's theatrics, he cried as if Roman were dying.

 "Is there any way we can treat it, Dr. Picani? Medicine? Therapy?" His dad asked.

 "There are no known medicine for this no... but group therapy may help. This would give Roman a chance to interact with other people like him, maybe even help him cope with his issue."

  Roman remembered frowning at the idea, hating at having to be around annoying people for two hours, he remembers wanting to throw a fit, yelling at the adults that he didn't need therapy, but he's glad he didn't do that.

 Roman smirks and saunters up to his latest prey, making sure to replace the devious smirk with a soft smile that was similar to his papa's.

 "Hi, I'm Roman Hartfield it's nice to meet you!"

 The boy with a yellow beanie with matching gloves looks at him, his blue and amber eyes look directly into his green ones. The burn mark on the boy's face stood out like a sore thumb, but it didn't ruin his looks in Roman's opinion. The boy smiles back and offers a gloved hand to Roman.

 "I'm Eden Summers! It's nice to meet too, Roman!"

 Roman notices the scars that littered Eden's arms as he shook the boy's hand, he allows his smirk to return.

 'Things just got interesting~.'

--------------

~TAGLIST~: @sparrow-flightninggale @perhaps-im-dave-rolland

A/N: WELL WELL WELL LOOK WHO GOT CAUGHT-  And was led straight to a new victim

Also note! I’m not saying that all diagnosed psychopaths are evil! Roman just turns out to be very violent- 

[australian-desi]

Qurbaan Hua ~ Episode 10-14: Of Murder, Bel-Gadis and The Death of My Favourite Character

There’s a lot of shouting, sorry in advance 

Episode 10

Wow he really had the audacity to ask forgiveness 

Do not tell me he’s the one that killed Saraswati 

He’s trying to intimidate her??????? With what????? 

She actually packs a punch, she pushed him right off of her

See this is the stuff I love about her 

SHE LOCKED THE DOOR FROM THE OUTSIDE AS WELL!!!!!! OMG WHAT A DAY IT HAS BEEN A TELLYWOOD CHARACTER WITH INTELLIGENCE 

And that’s on saying Sarasti instead of Saraswati you swine 

Where is this goddamn mandir, and why did she not take a car or something 

He’s found her (it’s not her fault, she tried her best to hide) and omfggggg she’s right next to a cliff 

I THOUGHT SHE DIED IN CHILDBIRTH OR SOMETHING WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS 

HE THREW HIS HEAVILY PREGNANT WIFE DOWN THE STAIRS AND HE WANTS TO BE THE HEAD PRIEST

HOLY SHIT 

OMG 

WHY AM I HERE 

AND HER COUSIN IS JUST WATCHING THIS HAPPEN

ofcourse Neil’s rakhi breaks just as is sister is dying 

NAVELI BE OUT HERE ACTUALLY JUSTIFYING KILLING HER SISTER WTAFFFFFFFFFFFF 

CAN NEIL LISTEN TO HIS GODDAMN THIRD SENSE AND GO GET HIS SISTER FFSS

WHAT DID I TELL HIM, TAKE YOUR SISTER AND LEAVE BUT NOOOOOO 

MANS IS KILLING HER RUTHLESSLY 

He’s also comparing a position to the love of his unborn child????????????

HOLY SHIT THIS MAN IS GOING TO PIN THE WHOLE MURDER ON DOCTOR BAIG 

KILLLLL MOIIIIII

I KNEW THIS SHOW WAS INTENSE BUT I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR A FULL FLEDGED MURDER 

IT TOOK NEEL AN UNANSWERED PHONECALL, BROKEN RAKHI AND A LECTURE FROM A SAGE TO GET OUT OF THE VEHICLE

NOT THE FEELING OF IMPENDING DOOM AND PANIC 

Here Daddy Pandit is preaching that all human beings are equal, and being Hindu does not make you better or worse than those of other religions 

If these are his thoughts, why does he refuse medical help from people of other religions, I do not understand 

Ummm surely the doctor can tell the marks all over her body are from being physically assaulted and not just from a trivial fall

GOTTA LOVE CHAHAT, WHO IS A FRESH NEW DOCTOR, WAS ABLE TO TELL THAT SOMETHING’S UP, SHE DIDN’T JUST FAINT AND NOT A SENIOR DOCTOR

ALSO SHYAM1.5 IS OUT HERE FULLY READY TO SHIFT THE BLAME AS IF HE BROKE A GLASS OR SOMETHING AND NOT FULLY KILL HIS WIFE 

Episode 11 

Neel, is still running around the house screaming for his sister when it is quite clear no one is there, so good on him

Again I say, for a doctor this man is quite daft - DOCTORS ARE TRAINED TO LOOK FOR ABUSE

The fact my girl has to conduct CPR in the hospital really shows how much it is lacking in medical technology, so I guess Anjali2.0 was fucked from the start

And he’s now talking to Daddy Pandit, who is continuing the pooja as if Neel isn’t even there 

VYASJI IS USELESS, GO LOOK FOR HER ON YOUR OWN YOU DIMWIT 

This dumbass doctor is asking him point blank if it is a case of domestic violence as if he will just admit to it

YOU CALL THE POLICE FOR THE INTERROGATION YOU DONT JUST CONDUCT IT YOURSELF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAY 

Pehla banda dekha jo pandit banne ke liye itne paap ekhate kar raha hai 

Also since when did pandits become gunde 

The baby has survived?????? Wow I am proud

Well this is just, holy shit, ummm, religion is an absolute joke when taken to these levels and like the joke is really all on them, because one of their own is a murderer/abuser/womaniser/manipulator 

SARASWATI GET UP AND MURDER HIM BACK COZ WTAF

CAN THE DOCTOR MOVE OUT OF THE GODDAMN WAY SO IT DOESNT LOOK LIKE SHE’S POINTING AT HIM

I KNEW THIS WOULD FKN HAPPEN

HOLY SHIT AND SHE’S GONE 

There goes the only person in Neel’s whole household (apart from Neel) that I liked 

These people are proper dumb, she was clearly pointing at the doctor 

AND IS NO ONE LOOKING AT HIS GLEE OF HIS WIFE’S DEATH

ITS DADDY PANDIT NOT GIVING A SINGLE SHIT THAT HIS DAUGHTER IS MISSING 

HOLLLYYY SHIETTT NEEL GO SEE YOUR SISTER RATHER THAN CARRYING OUT YOUR AINVAYI KE DRAMATICS 

GOOD NOW SHE’S DEAD AND YOUR KAMINA JIJA IS ABOUT TO GET AWAY WITH IT

Omgggggg why have they hit me with the manpain so early in the show, im going to cry 

Holy shiettt my dude is going to get so fucked over this, I can’t 

Episode 12-14

Basically, I’m just very triggered by this whole thing

Neel has lost all sense and is after blood, because murder as revenge does not count as a paap apparently 

Chahat is the only one with half a brain in this whole show, the person with the other half is now dead #rip #IAmStillTraumatisedFromHerDeath

Daddy Pandit is a horrible actor, coz I felt nothing, when he sees his daughter’s dead body, and the fact that I showed more emotion at Saraswati’s death 

Fake Kamini knows something’s up between Shyam1.5 and Naveli, and she does not bat an eye which is worrying 

When Neel ‘saved’ Chahat it was quite hot, it got me going (coz his whole body covers hers, and she clutches on to him tightly and that whole thing)

Ofcourse she faints coz she wouldn’t be an ITV female lead if she didn’t 

Gotta also love how dramatic Neel got, with the whole, the person who’s blood I’m after, his daughter is in my arms, and my sister would also want me to avenge her death

Neel darling, yes she does want you to avenge her death, but I really wish you were a bit smarter to know/bother to find out who actually killed her even though I know this whole thing is a mess, you are an emotional mess and can’t think straight, but please calm down and think 

Also, if I was Daddy Pandit or Neel I would’ve lost my faith in God a long long time ago, so proud of both of them in keeping this religion thing up

HAVE THESE CRAZIES REALISED THAT THE CHILD IS WELL AND ALIVE 

OMFG THAT IN ITSELF IS ENOUGH PROOF THAT THEY DIDN’T KILL SARASWATI

COULDN’T THEY GET A POST-MORTEM REPORT DONE AS WELL WHICH WILL TELL THEM SHE DIED FROM TRAUMA NOT FROM POISONING 

Awww that scene when Saraswati’s spirit comes to Neel to snap him out of his bullshit, that was sweet, hopefully he calms down and is able to get some much needed therapy, and go live happily with Meera

Who am I kidding

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, HE HIT HER WITH A BELL, AND IT FELL AROUND HER NECK, AND THEN LIKE A BEL-GARDI, HE IS DRAGGING HER 

OMG WE’RE LITERALLY AT THE POINT WHERE THE ABUSE HAS LED TO A COMPLETE DEHUMANISATION OF THE FEMALE LEAD 

ALSO ENJOYED THE WHOLE BELL HITTING HER MAANG, SO IT LOOKS LIKE SINDOOR - THAT’S VERY VERY FUCKED 

I CANNOT

WHAT THE FUCK

WHY AM I WATCHING THIS

We’ve gone from occasional forceful arm grabbing to tying a bell around the girl’s neck AND PULLING IT BY IT 

and I’m also lolling at the warning about how they don’t promote this behaviour

OMG DADDY PANDIT IS THE ONLY ONE WITH HUMANITY IN THIS WHOLE VILLAGE HOLY FUCKING SHIT (he’s said how burning the hospital down, going after their life, rioting etc. is not okay and is against everything he has taught his followers) 

NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS DID I THINK THIS MAN WOULD COME OUT AND BE THE MOST SENSIBLE

And he’s keeping her hostage, lovely 

It’s amazing how it’s taken them this long to call law enforcement

Well Neel has well and truly lost it, now he’s having another go at his dad

And Mami has found out that Chahat is in a room and coz of the blood/bell/sindoor situation has assumed that she’s Neel’s gf who he has just gotten married to

I don’t blame her, that’s on Neel locking a woman in his house 

Now I’m wondering can this show get even more fucked than it already is

[journalistquinnfabray]

Tagging: @doveportcedes

Time frame: Post the accident 2/14

Location: Hospital 

Notes: Directly post accident. Mercedes feelings about it and Quinns feelings about her life/ seeing puck again. 

Quinn:  Quinn pulls her car up to the scene, the flashing lights making her unable to see how bad it is. She had gotten a text from her boss about a crash and how she had to go report on it for the morning. Grumpily, she left Oliver behind and drove to the scene. The closer she walks to the scene, the more is revealed, and Quinn feels like shes walking into a horror scene. She knows that car, the black four door car. Her heart sinks as she approaches, seeing blood and glass scattered across the asphalt. Shes startled when her phone rings, dropping her camera.

 "Hello?" Quinn answers. "Is this Lucy Fabray?" An unkown man asks. 

 Quinn almost forgets her own name for a moment. "n- Yes this is her" "You're Mercedes Jones' emergency contact, theres been an accident." 

 The rest of the call fades out into a blur as Quinn realises its true. This is one of her closest friends cars. Crushed like a can, sitting infront of her. She searches out for a body in the car before realising the flashing lights are getting further away. She runs back into her car, almost forgetting to pick up her camera before speeding off to the only hospital she knows.

Mercedes:  It had been hours before Mercedes had awoken. The room was dark and she knew it was early morning, it was just a feeling. For a moment, it was all a dream, for a moment she was in bed and the rest of the world had just witnessed her concert, she saved a cat and she was on top of the world. 

But then the pain started, her head, her body, her leg. She heard movement and noticed someone sitting across from her. Her eyes adjusted and she realized it was Quinn. "Q?" She said hoarsely and trying to sit up.

Quinn: Quinn was starting to drift off sitting on the couch. She was worried for her friend, and the anxiety had been eating her up inside, but shes had to wait hours and its getting kind of late. The doctor told her not to expect Mercedes to wake up anytime soon, and she doesnt feel bad if she takes a quick 20 minute power nap. Just as she starts drifting off she hears a hoarse voice. Sitting up quickly, she can see her friends eyes open, and shes struggling to sit up. Her heart blooms with happiness that her friend is alive. "Mercedes!" She almost yells in her excitement "Thank god! Here, let me help you" Quinn rushes over to help her friend sit up.

Mercedes:  Mercedes stared at Quinn and accepted her help sitting up. "Q what happened?" She ran her hands through her hair but stopped feeling a bandage on her forehead. "It wasn't a dream was it?" She swallowed remembering the accident. Her leg being crushed by the door and steering column. Connor telling her everything would be okay.

Quinn:  Quinn looks at her friend with pity as she watches the revelation come over her. "There was an accident. Some idiot ran a red light and crashed into you. It wasnt a dream." She holds her friends hand, hoping to be the support the girl needs.

Mercedes:  Mercedes felt tears come to her eyes. The averted down to her leg. She couldn't bare to look at it, to move it, if she lost it... She was about to ask Quinn about it when the door opened and the nurse walked in. 

 "Oh good you are awake I was just coming to check on you." She said softly. "I know you must have a ton of questions, I can get the doctor for you." 

 Mercedes just nodded, still trying to process it all. She looked at Quinn as the nurse stepped out and squeezed her hand. "You look tired Q, tell me you haven't been here all night?"

Quinn:  Quinn watched Mercedes with sad eyes. She wished she could take the pain away from her friend. "How could I leave you here? I didn't even know I was your emergency contact" Quinn sighs "I came to report and saw it was your car, and then I got the call" She rubbed circles into Mercedes hand. "I couldn't go home without seeing that you were okay, regardless of what the doctor said"

Mercedes:  Mercedes nodded. "Sorry Q I meant to tell you." she said softly. "I have you and San." She exhaled laying back for a moment. "I am so happy you are here,  I don't want to be alone. God Q i was so scared...I thought." She shook her head as she closed her eyes.

Quinn:  Quinns glad that Mercedes chose her to be an emergency contact. "Its okay, I know now. Thank you for picking me" Quinn looks down at the cast, worried about her leg. "You're okay, I promise. The doctors even think you'll get back most of your motion"

Mercedes:  "I might?" She couldn't believe this was happening.  She looked at her friend and forced a smile. She knew Quinn, knew she felt it all. "Hey, hey its okay, I am okay."

Quinn:  Quinn smiled at her friend, trying to force happiness for her. "The good news is that we have tons of time to catch up on brooklyn nine nine?" She says, it coming out as more of a question than a statement. She hugs her friend. "I'm really glad you're okay Mercy"

Mercedes:  Mercedes tried to smile widely but only got halfway. "For sure! The new Season started and I am so behind." She hugged her back. "Me too Q." The doctor walked in with a soft smile. 

 "Well nice to see you among the pand of the living Mercedes. Your dad would have my hide if anything happened to you."  

"Hi Dr. Carter." She said hoarsely.

 "So looks like you had a very bad accident. You suffered from whiplash which is normal and a minor head lack, but your leg is what we were worried about. Your femur bone was fractured from the crash, and you ankle was broken. Most femoral shaft fractures take 3 to 6 months to completely heal. You will need therapy but the worst of it is you need to stay off your leg for at least 8 weeks if not more." 

 "What!?!?!"

Quinn:  Quinn swallows. This is not good news. She worries for her friend, and she hopes her face hasn’t gone pale. “Mercedes, the most important thing is that you’re alive okay? You can overcome all this other stuff”

Mercedes:  She may have nodded at Quinn, but her mind was running rampant with thoughts of fear and loss. Her future, her life it was all gonna change. And she wasnt ready to face it. "Yeah you are right." She lied.

Quinn:  Quinn rubs more soothing circles into Mercedes hand "Anything you need, I'm here for you okay? I'll help you get better. Its only a few weeks and you'll be back to normal! You're so lucky"

Mercedes:  Mercedes sighed. "Thanks Q, I am so glad you are here. I dont know what I would do if I were alone." She squeezed Quinns hand.

Quinn:  Quinn softly smiles. "You know I'd always be here for you." Squeezing her hand once again "So, tell me all about how you felt at the concert!"

Mercedes:  Mercedes sighed closing her eyes. "I felt complete. Like, like that is what I should be doing every day of my life. I love my job I love my patients but Q, I belong on that stage." She looked down to her leg. "Or at least I did."

Quinn:  Quinn feels so much sadness for her friend. This was supposed to be the night of her life, and now here she is in the hospital. “You’ll get back there, I promise. You killed it on that stage”

Mercedes:  Mercedes shook her head. "This just proves that I need to stay put and not venture away from what I know."

Quinn:  "No!" Quinn states. "Mercedes, you cant let this stop you if its your dream. What if this is just the lord testing you? Maybe he wants you to fight for it"

Mercedes:  Mercedes stared at her. "How is this a test? Its devastating. My heart was so full and now im certain that I was never meant to do this." Could it really be a test? Could she really be happy not being on that stage again?"

Quinn:  "I don't know. We both know he works in weird ways. I know you were meant to do this. You were up on that stage, and you just looked so at home. You're supposed to do that 'Cedes. Dont let this stop you, let it make you stronger"

Mercedes:  Mercedes sighed with tears in her eyes. "Q what if I can't walk the same or stand the same? What if I can never do it again?"

Quinn:  Quinn doesnt know how to answer her friend. She can say the right thing, but it may not be true. "I don't know. You might not be able to. But that cant stop you, please don't let it stop you"

Mercedes:  Mercedes wiped her eyes before closing them. Her hands wrapped around Quinn's hand. She knew Quinn was right and maybe just maybe she could make it this time. "I won't."

Quinn:  Quinns glad her friend seems to listen. She'll follow up with it later. "I'm glad. How else have you been?"

Mercedes:  Mercedes sighed. "Nothing really I have been so busy with work and the concert I dont think I've had a life."

Quinn: Quinn smiles, a thought coming to her head. "How about I tell you some stories from my fucked up life to distract you? The Quinn Fabray show always seems to have drama"

Mercedes:  Mercedes sighed moving slowly to make room for Quinn. "Come on lay down and tell Cedes everything."

Quinn:  Quinn lays beside Mercedes, tucking her head carefully onto the other girls shoulder. "Well, for one, you'll never guess who lives in this dumb town. Puck, as in, that Puck"

Mercedes:  Mercedes eyes widened. "No, Quinn no! Noah Puckerman is your "Puck?"

Quinn:  She expected Mercedes shock, heck, even she was shocked herself. "Yup, the one and only. I couldn't believe it! and to make matters worse, I literally ran into him on a beach when I was already trying to calm down"

Mercedes:  Mercedes knew about their history and knew how hard seeing him had to be for her. "Q, oh I am so sorry. What did he say?"

Quinn:  Quinn sighs. "It was a kind of awkward catch up. Did you know Sarahs pregnant? We're getting old. And he has heaps of tattoos now" Quinn sniffles, hes not the easiest topic to talk about.

Mercedes:  Mercedes leaned into her and took her hand. "Had I known... I am sorry you had to see him like that."

Quinn:  Quinn shakes her head. "You couldn't have known. I barely told you about him, its alright. It just bought up all those feelings about Lily that I thought I was over"

Mercedes:  "Q, you will never truly be over any feelings about Lily. Its not in you. He just brought them to the surface. I wanna punch him for hurting you."

Quinn:  "Don't punch him, you can't run away right now" Quinn chuckles, hoping its already an appropriate time to make jokes. "I had stopped thinking about her you know? I wasn't stuck in my head anymore about it. Yeah, I still think about her daily, but it wasn't torture. And now, its all back."

Mercedes:  Mercedes couldn't know the pain Quinn was feeling, but her heart broke for her best friend. "You did what you had to do. There is no need to feel tortured I know you can't help it but I wish you could see that."

Quinn:  Quinn sighs, she always feels so heartsick about it.  “I don’t know. He’s all mature, and adult now. I can’t help but think about what it would be like if we could’ve kept her. I know we made the best choice at the time, but we were kids who didn’t know better”

Mercedes:  "Trust me Noah Puckerman is not all Mature." She leaned against Quinn. "You gave Lily a life, you gave her a chance. And that was you being her mom."

Quinn:  Quinn nods, she tells herself those words all the time but shes not sure if she ever believes them. "He's much more mature than back then. He used to spend hours lecturing me on the different super Marios and why 2 was the best”

Mercedes:  "Okay he has grown up, yes I guess but he's still the ass who hurt you and I am not here for that."

Quinn:  "Please don't go fight Puck right now. Hes not worth it. The good news is, I think I might actually be getting over him"

Mercedes: "Why?" She whined but then smiled. "Getting over him?!?!? How whats up?" 

Quinn:  "Because you're literally injured Mercy. He'll still be there to fight when you heal up." Seeing Puck was a shock for sure, and it reminded Quinn of all her relationship fuck ups. "Well I think I was in love with him for a while back then, and then he you know, took off and ran, so I never really got closure. But seeing him, it kind of made me realise just how much he wouldn't fit into my life anymore."

Mercedes:  Mercedes sighed. "Fine." she whined. "Your life is so much better than it was and you are right he doesn't fit. And I am happy about that."

Quinn:  Quinn nudges her friend, looking up at her. “I love you, you know that? Today has reminded me just how grateful I am to have you in my life.”

Mercedes:  "Oh Q. You are my best friend. I am grateful for you too. And i know seeing him was hard, but I am so proud of how you handled all of that."

Quinn: Quinn presses a kiss to her friends cheek. "My life does seem to be an endless list of fuck ups doesnt it?" 

Mercedes:  "No." She assured her. "This is all about finding our way. Finding your way and you are already there."

Quinn:  “Ah, I dunno. I still have a lot of things I need to check off my adulting list” Quinn jokes.

Mercedes:  Mercedes laughed. "You and me both. But if anyone can reach their goals and check em all off its you." She sighed. "I don't know where I would be without you Q, thanks for being here with me."

[ladymusic600]

ET

My mom didn’t make a lot of money and my father left before i was born, I was already dealing with the shame of receiving free school lunches and the looks associated with that. Some of my school friends laughed and poked fun. They chuckled and I even joked about it with them. But for me, on the inside, it wasn’t funny at all. I know how tough it can be to use a soup spoon or button a shirt. I struggle with these seemingly easy, day-to-day tasks too. But I think it shows your true character to keep soldiering on and finding a way, day after day, to keep rising above the challenges. This is a nerve disorder causing uncontrollable shaking usually to the top half of the body. The tremors can make easy and everyday tasks so much more difficult. These tremors can make something as easy as feeding yourself, dressing yourself a challenge. A person with these tremors can have difficulty using a spoon or picking up a glass without spilling what is inside. This is something i have had sense birth. It truly does affect my entire body: my arms, hands, legs(which make me fall and trip), lips, stomach. It even affects my voice, which I find very stressful as it often sounds like I am about to cry when I am in a nervous situation- so phone calls would, naturally, be another source of anxiety for me as I was always worried the person on the other end of the phone would think I was upset. There are many factors that exasperate and intensify my tremor which include: anxiety, being hungry, being too tired, being too cold, being too hot, adrenaline, caffeine and the worst of all: being hungover. There is another huge point to cover here- alcohol completely gets rid of the tremor and when I say it completely gets rid of it, I mean it becomes non-existent, doctors say its ok to have a little but come on? wouldn't you drink like a fish out of water if it made you normal. Therefore throughout my teens I would often drink to self-medicate and relieve the stress that the tremor would put on me. Alcohol would also allow me to do everyday things that I couldn’t do with the tremor (for instance: walking down steps(i need to hold on someone or something), taking a drink, eating soup, writing, the list goes on and on.) I remember enjoying the feeling the alcohol gave me as it made me feel like a ‘normal’ person and I couldn’t believe that people were actually living their lives with this feeling of normality and I was extremely jealous of that. Imagine that, the one cure to your condition, is something that can actually kill you (or is extremely dangerous). But this was a really big problem for me and I was in denial for years that I had become dependent on drinking to calm my tremor and my anxiety. I had normalized using alcohol to self-medicate and kept it a secret for years. I decided to have a drink to calm myself down and stop my legs from shaking, when going out to meet new friends. Of course as one does when socializing this led to another drink and then another. The next morning and I realize my tremor is so bad that I can barely even stand up. So, I went through my options and decided the only real way I could even get out of bed was to have another drink… so I did. This cycle continued drinking, waking up with a hangover, not being able to stand/walk and then drinking again to be able to continue with daily life. The thing is my friends and family would have to carry me days after...So naturally i stopped drinking all together. People don't understand that one day you can be happy and notice its not as bad as you remember but then....there are those days where I have trouble holding things, i drop things on my feet, i fall over a ghost foot, needing help down stairs, i cut my hand, burn myself, can't dress myself, sound like im having a mental break down...i could go on and on how bad it gets....But Imagine waking up one day and trying to drink a cup of hot coffee without burning yourself. Just imagine when you have your good days and bad days, meaning good days being where you can do stuff without even remembering you have this shaking problem. To bad days literally where the moment you get up you know its going to be a long day of wanting to scream cry and throw everything in frustration because you can’t feed yourself or dress yourself, that you are kinda like a new born again, that you just want to go back to sleep and wake up the next day. But the next day might be the same or better you never know. And you know whats sad about this is im a small person and between 100-106 pounds and short and cops always stop me and ask for my id because they think im on drugs….i only met one cop and that day sadly was at night i was working on a children’s haunted train ride and we were both zombies. Not once did he every think that i was on drugs and it was like 60ish degrees out side and that was cold to me so i was shaking like crazy. I came to realize when i got home he just thought i was cold…then i got into my own head and started getting depressed. The thought of people feeling sorry for me, thinking of me as ‘helpless’, or weak was just awful heartbreaking and was one of the reasons why I kept it a secret for so long. I know if i every have a kid in the future that they will have this as well and that makes me cry thinking about them going through this as well. Im going put a innocent child in this world to get bullied like i did and not be able to do things on there own... Im still to scared to tell people about it, it's embarrassing. Eventually it will get worse which makes me sad but even then as far as neurological disorders go, it’s not as bad as it could be and for that I’m grateful. Like When im paying for stuff god i feel horrible because im shaking and nervous which makes it worse and im left feeling guilty and apologizing to everyone every time. Sometimes it makes me want to scream, fall to my knees and cry because i feel like im just slowing people down or they get embarrassed by me. I have difficulty cooking and have burned and cut myself multiple times, I can’t drive when my tremors are bad because Im scared…I’m at the point now where I avoid eating and drinking in public even if im out all day i still won’t. I’m socially awkward all the time even when im not shaking im just shy and weird haha. See The dating scene can be a bit tricky, especially with people who aren’t really used to seeing you, or anyone else, with tremors. I NEVER been on a date in my life and im kind of scared to go on one because i have to wear wrist and forearm weights. Essential Tremors is a progressive neurological condition that causes a shaking within the hands, head, voice or legs and in some cases an internal shaking is reported. Essential Tremors are most normally confused with Parkinson’s but is more common and while Parkinson’s lessens with more movement, ET worsens with movement, anxiety, stress and strain. Unlike Parkinson's, which is a degenerative disease that causes someone to lose brain cells, essential tremor is not a degenerative disorder. Usually, the tremor that's characteristic of essential tremor occurs while the person is performing a movement-oriented activity – such as eating, drinking, writing, typing or brushing teeth – or when the hand is in a still but outstretched position (called a postural tremor). The severity can range from a barely noticeable trembling that's exacerbated by stress, anxiety, fatigue, excess caffeine or certain stimulant asthma medications to a severe, disabling tremor that has a significant impact on your ability to perform daily activities. For people with severe tremor that doesn't respond to drugs, surgical therapies and other treatments are gaining traction. With deep brain stimulation, a probe is implanted in the thalamus, the part of the brain that causes tremors, and a wire runs from the probe to a pacemaker-like device implanted in the chest. "We use the pacemaker to jam the tremor signal inside the brain," "If the tremor gets worse, we can dial up the stimulation." Hearing that scares me, because you can't be asleep when you have this surgery, you have to be awake so they know they have it in the right place. Recent epidemiological studies indicate that individuals with ET are at slightly increased risk of developing dementia (particularly Alzheimer’s disease) compared to their age-matched counterparts without ET. Similar studies also show that persons with ET have a more than four-times increased risk of developing Parkinson’s disease. The mechanisms for these associations are currently under study. so….would you date me knowing possibly by the time im 40-50ish that i might need help with almost everything i do? would you date me knowing i could possibly give ET to our kid? would you date me knowing there are times where i scream bloody murder because i can’t handle the shaking?  would you date me knowing that there will be times where i zone out and get depressed because i either know my out come or because i im scared of it? i want someone who loves me and not because of sympathy…

[timeoutforthee]

Like It or Not (Chapter 8)

Summary: Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil are all struggling in their recovery. Their doctors, Thomas Sanders and Emile Picani think they can help each other out.

Aka Group Therapy AU

Trigger Warnings: mentions of disordered eating habits, bullying. 

Read it on AO3!

Taglist: @itsausernamenotafobsong, @sea-blue-child, @iaminmultiplefandoms, @princeanxious, @uwillbeefoundtonight, @zaidiashipper, @arandompasserby, @levyredfox3, @falsett0, @error-i-dunno-what-went-wrong, @scrapbookofsketches, @podcastsandcoffee, @helloisthisusernametaken, @amuthefunperson, @michealawithana, @yamihatarou, @heck-im-lost, @unlikelynightmareconnoisseur, @idkaurl

“Logan…? Are you trying to...untangle your spaghetti?”

Logan glanced up at his mother before going back to his plate.

“Yes,” he said, unphased, pulling another noodle from the pile on his plate. He uses his fork and knife to stretch it out straight across his plate. It lines up almost perfectly with about fifteen other noodles.

His dad sighed. “Are you actually going to eat it after you do that?”

Logan paused.

“Maybe.”

His mom and dad look across the table at each other. Usually they were accepting of their son’s...quirks, but this? This might have been too far.

“Logan? Could you maybe just eat the damn spaghetti?” Kurt Crofter asks, wondering when exactly his son had become...this, and why he wasn’t back to normal yet.

“I would like to,” Logan says, stretching another strand across his plate, “But I have to do this first.”

“You have to?”

“Yes.”

Kurt looked over at his wife again, this time in desperation. Madelyn Crofter decided it was time to use her best coping skill: denial.

“So, honey, are you nervous about school tomorrow?”

“Not particularly. I hope some of the course material proves to be at least a bit challenging, since they are, in theory, supposed to be college-level.”

“And your electives? Are you excited for those?”

“Did you sign up for the computer course like I suggested?” Kurt asks. He sees his son hesitate for a just a second, and he narrows his eyes slightly, “Logan?”

“Well, I actually decided to take Psychology.”

“Why?”

“My therapist keeps throwing around terms and such that I don’t understand. I’d like to know how my-” Logan hesitates. “I’d like to know, chemically, how my brain is working, and why it’s different from others. I...think it would help. Plus, as you know, I am not used to not understanding.”

“Logan, this is a minor glitch in your overall life. In a few years, you may not even remember it,” his dad tells him, “Yet you want to put your career on hold due to it?”

“See, I would understand forgetting if it was a one or two appointment approach like we originally assumed it would be. But I have been in treatment for about eight months and it doesn’t seem to be ending any time soon, so I couldn’t-”

“Wait, why is it not stopping soon?” Madelyn asks, “How long are you going to be doing this? Will you be able to concentrate on school?”

“I entered treatment while I was in school, so I would assume-”

“Yeah, but now you’re going into junior year, Logan, do you know how important this year is for college?” Kurt asks.

“You have made that clear,” Logan mutters, and now the pile is completely stretched out on his plate, every piece lined up in a row. But it’s still not good enough. Carefully, Logan raises his knife and cuts the first noodle into thirds.

Irritated, his dad stands up and goes to the sink, getting rid of his own plate.

“Honey?” his mom asks.

“You deal with it,” he growls, heading upstairs.

Madelyn sighs, turning back to her son, who is concentrating on his plate.

“Don’t you think it’d be easier to just...cut them all at once?”

“I can’t do that.”

She looks up at the ceiling. Okay. Back to denial.

“What about your friends? Are you excited to see them?”

“I’ve told you multiple times. I do not have friends. I do not want friends. I do not need friends.”

“What about the boys in your...what was it...group? Group therapy?”

Logan pauses. He supposes, technically, he could call Patton, Roman, and Virgil friends. It was an interesting situation, because they had access to some of his best kept secrets, and he had theirs, but he didn’t have much more information. They would be at school tomorrow. Probably even Virgil, since he mentioned he was transferring. That...might change this year. Just slightly.

^

Who wanted to die?

Virgil didn’t even mean that in an angsty way. He meant it in a someone-is-texting-me-at-five-in-the-morning-on-my-first-day-of-a-new-school-and-therefore-clearly-has-a-death-wish way. His phone had not stopped buzzing on his night stand.

A smart person, he realized, would just reach over and silence it. But he knew once he had the phone in his hand, he’d get curious and actually read the damn things. Well. Time to stop fighting it.

Virgil picked up his phone, hissing when the phone’s light shone in his eyes.

Hey.

I’m assuming you’re still pissed at me, since you haven’t texted. And that’s fine.

I guess.

I just had to do something, V. I was scared for you. I wish I could say I’m sorry.

Virgil groaned. It was too damn early for feelings.

I am sorry for breaking your trust though.

Anyway. That’s not what this text is about. I meant to just text you and tell you good luck at your new school.

Congrats, you got out of this place.

And don’t worry about me. I know you worry about everything and everyone, but I have Kai and Lauren to watch out for me now. Also I’m still broken up with Mitchell.

Virgil still doesn’t respond, but he can see that Elliott is still typing on their side.

I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry and I’m not I know your aunt is taking better care of you and I did the right thing I think but sometimes I don’t know and I just want you to be happy and I hope you are. I’ve tried asking Picani how you are, to just see if you’re still alive and at your aunt’s, but that breaks confidentiality, so

That was a ramble. I’m sorry.

I’m going to go before I make things worse.

But I miss you. And I hope you text me back, eventually.

Virgil is tempted, he really is. Partly because of what Elliot said, partly because they got up at five to text it to him. They haven’t spoken to each other in two months, and Elliott is right, Virgil has been worrying about them.

But there’s still something that stings whenever he thinks of what happened. He knows, deep down, that it wasn’t their fault, and if they swapped places Virgil would have done the exact same thing. He should be the bigger person and text them saying he forgives them.

Instead, he turns off his phone.

^

Logan freezes at the entrance of his English classroom.

He hadn’t seen the other three all morning, and for a second it felt just like every other year. Yet, there Virgil was, sitting in a desk, headphones in and eyes closed, just like the first day of group.

The problem was that it was only now occurring to Logan that they had never discussed their interactions in the “real world.” How had they missed that? Most likely because they hadn’t hit school yet, but still. It really should have come up. What if Virgil didn’t want to talk to him? What if they all had their own friends? What if being around each other just made their disorders worse? What if-

Virgil cracked one of his eyes open, and looked directly at Logan. They stared at each other a bit, before Virgil jerked his head to the side, nodding at the empty seat next to him. Oh. Okay then.

Logan slid into it as Virgil popped his headphones out.

“You know, I didn’t know the teachers allowed you to have those.”

“They allow you to have anything as long as you don’t get caught.”

“Ah. I see,” Logan paused, “So I can ask a question that some may consider to be ‘blunt’?”

Virgil raises an eyebrows, “Go ahead.”

“You claimed you were not smart, yet you are in AP English.”

“Yeah, I’m just as confused about it as you are. I don’t know, I had to take these tests so they knew what classes to put me in, and when I got my schedule, they had stuck me here. And my aunt was too excited to do anything.”

“Well, yes, it is an exciting thing.”

“I can tell, you seem to be jumping for joy.”

Just then, the bell rang, and their teacher walked to the front.

“Hello, everyone,” A woman with red-framed glasses greeted them, “I’m Mrs. Spencer, and I will be your teacher this year.”

^

Logan picks up his books and carefully slides them back into the bag. He and Virgil didn’t get a chance to talk during the class, but he’s wondering if he’s made plans for lunch already. He usually spends it in the library helping the librarian organize, but he figures it’s time to start actually eating at lunch, and he’d prefer not to do it alone. He glances over at Virgil, just to see his slumped over on his desk.

“Uh, Virgil?”

“I can’t do this, I am stupid.”

“You know, you keep saying that, I’m not sure I believe you.”

Virgil turns his head slightly, just enough so he can hiss at Logan.

“I’m sorry, did he just hiss at you?” their teacher says, coming over cautiously. Most of the class has cleared out by now, already rushing down to the cafeteria.

“Yes. But it’s okay, not very unusual.”

“O...kay,” Mrs. Spencer starts to say something else, but she’s interrupted by someone shouting her name.

“Mrs. Spencer!” Virgil and Logan look up to see Roman walk through the door, “You will not believe-” he cuts himself off, “Oh. Hey guys.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the cafeteria?” Virgil asks.

“Oh, uh, this is actually the room I eat in. If that’s still okay,” he rushes to add, looking over at his former teacher. She nods and he relaxes.

“Are your friends joining us?” she says, looking at Logan and Virgil.

“I, uh…,” Roman is going to say no, because why would they want to eat with him? But he’s going to take a wild guess and say they hate the cafeteria as much as he does, so instead he just raises his eyebrows and says, “Do you guys want to?”

“Yes,” Logan says, quickly, not giving himself time to overanalyze.

Virgil sighs, “Sure. But first, we should see if we can find Patton.”

^

It’s fine!

Everything’s fine! It’s fine that he stayed up too late last night bingeing! It’s fine that his yearbook friends didn’t have enough room at their table! It’s fine that they keep glancing over their shoulders to look at him with pity from the table over! It’s fine that he hasn’t found Roman or Logan or Virgil!

They wouldn’t want to sit here anyway.

And that’s fine! It’s really, really-

“Hey Fatton!”

And Patton freezes, like ice water has been poured down his spine. Okay. It might not be fine.

Cameron Burk slides in across from him. One of his friends plops in next to Patton so he’s blocked in. He forces a smile on to his face. No, it’s going to be fine.

“Hey, guys. How’s the first day going?” Because he can’t be mean. He can’t be mad at them for saying what everyone else is saying.

Cameron laughs.

“Oh, it’s great Fatton,” and Patton forces himself not to flinch. He wishes for that name to go away, but it’s followed him since middle school, resurrected every year by none other than Cameron himself, “Why are you all alone, hm?”

“He’s not.”

Cameron practically jumps out of his skin, whirling around in his seat. He’s met with an icy glare that cuts through him. Who...who the fuck was that?

“Who the fuck are you?” Cameron stands up. At his full height, he towers over this kid, but he just raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“I’m Virgil. I’d ask who the fuck are you, but it’s irrelevant.”

Patton glances between the two as Cameron’s friend laughs next to him. That earns him a glare.

“I’m Cameron fucking Bu-”

Virgil presses a finger to his lips, and it catches him off guard enough that he actually shuts up.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time,” Virgil bares his teeth in a smile, a warning, “I don’t fucking care about who you are. But I do care about you staying the fuck away from my friend.”

Charles furrows his eyebrows, before glancing behind him at Patton. He looks back at Virgil, in his black, ripped skinny jeans, black hoodie, with his purple hair.

“...friend?”

“Yes, friend.” But that’s a new voice, coming from...Roman Prince?

What the fuck is going on?

Patton is standing up now, walking over to the two.

“You know, guys, maybe we should go.”

“Good idea,” Virgil says, but he and Cameron are still glaring at each other. Patton puts a hand on Virgil’s elbow, and guides him away, following Roman.

Roman pauses, “Don’t forget your lunch, Patton.”

[333kaylynn]

27 Roses / e.d.

Y/n goes to a mental hospital and Ethan visits her every day until he stops for 27 days. “27 roses for every day I missed.”

Request: nahhh fam

Word Count: 2609

uhhh i apologize for continously going from 1st and 2nd person point of view. 

I’m tagging a few people, sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged!

@bouttogolinkurbitch

@dimply-dolan

@dolayn

@grayson-dolans-dangly-earring

@kara-dolan

@nomoregraydays

@bb-dolan

@olivia-m-dolan

@olderdolan

@justanotherdolanblog

@profanitydolan

okay im done tagging, please enjoy this bc its not the best but i meannnn

///

Day One was possibly the worst. I didn’t know anyone, nor did anyone know me. I didn’t want to sit through this stupid therapy session we had to do, but of course, I was forced. They allowed me to bring someone for the first group therapy, so I wasn’t uncomfortable. Ethan stayed with me throughout the whole thing. 

Everyone in my part of the hospital was between the ages 13-17. One girl was there for trying to commit suicide, I found out her name was Amber, and she’s 14. Elisia, 16, had gone for anger management issues. Tyler, same age as me, was there for drug use. 

To be honest, I didn’t think I belonged here. I mean, in the back of my mind, I knew knew I did, but I just felt out of the loop at the moment. Everyone already knew eachother, and I just got there. 

Ethan had to leave after therapy, and it hurt me to see him go. “I promise I’ll visit you everyday. Only 365 days.” Ethan assured you you would be okay. 

“I’m gonna miss you E.” I say, pulling him in for a hug and a kiss. 

“Okay, visiting hours are over. All friends and family must leave.” The announcement went through the speakers, and I walked Ethan to the door. 

Day Two was slightly better, I started talking to a few people, Olivia, Tyler, and Faith. Olivia and Tyler were both 17, and Faith was 16. 

Tyler had been in here for about a year before this, Olivia about 7 months, and Faith for only about 2 months before I had come. 

All we really did today was sit around and get to know eachother. We played random card games, ate, and just sat around mainly. 

Ethan came and visited again, during visiting hours. Just like he said he would.  It brought joy to my eyes too see him. 

3 to 5 o clock, every day. Those were visiting hours. 3 pm to 5 pm. 

“Hey babe. I’m here, just like I said I would be.” Ethan came through the glass doors that led to the main room of the facility. He stood in the same spot for a minute and looked around until he saw you at a table with Tyler, Faith, and Olivia. 

You stood up from the table and pulled him in for a hug. You ran your small, yet nimble fingers through his ruffled up hair, probably caused by Grayson. 

“How’s your mom doing?” You ask, pushing him off of you but still holding onto him. Ethan laughed and looked at you, answering softly, “You just saw her yesterday, y/n. Right before we came here.”

“I know, E. But hey, I have to ask how my second mom is doing. You know I do.” 

Your fingers went up and through his hair again. He smiled again and said, “I know, I know. She’s doing great. She said she might visit you on Sunday, because that’s her only day off from work. My dad might come too, and Cameron.” 

You smiled and thought of the entire Dolan family seeing you here, which brought your face to a frown. 

You didn’t want to seem weak around them. You knew they already knew you were here, but they didn’t see you here yet. It was scary, the thought of them seeing you like this. 

Maybe they’d think you weren’t good enough for Ethan. They’d make Ethan stop seeing you. You couldn’t stand the thought of that. You shook your head and looked back up at Ethan. 

He could tell something was off about you for that minute. Your troubled past caused you to space out from time to time, and it probably wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. 

“You okay?” Ethan asks, resting his hand on your shoulder and rubbing it for a minute before bringing it back down. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.” You say, smiling at him and sitting back down at the table, “These are my new friends. Ethan, Tyler. Tyler, Ethan. Olivia, Ethan. Ethan, Olivia. Faith, Ethan. Ethan, Faith.” 

You took your time introducing everyone and after your introduction, Ethan immediately went into a conversation, like the social butterfly he is. 

Tyler and Ethan had a pretty intense conversation about Tyler’s life. Ethan wanted to know more about why people choose to do drugs. In his mind, there are so many things you can do to make yourself happy besides drugs. But in Tyler’s, it’s the only thing that made him happy. 

You, Faith, and Olivia were doing an even intenser range of things. Playing a game of Skip-Bo. It happened to be your favorite game since you were about 7, your grandma being the one to start your love for the game. 

Now, at the age of 17, your love still hasn’t stopped. 

“Hey, babe, I only have 30 minutes left.” Ethan says, scooting closer to your and whispering the words in your ear as you lie down a number 2 card. 

“Do you and Tyler want to join our game?” You ask, already starting to hand the two of the boys' cards. 

Day 29. It’s almost been your first month since you’ve started here. Ethan still came every day, just as he promised. 

It was now 8 pm, meaning you had 2 hours before lights out. Everyone from ages 13-15 were required to go to sleep by nine, and everyone ages 16 and 17 were allowed to stay awake until 10 if they wanted to. 

Every Thursday they put on “movie night” where the kids got to vote on a movie and watch it together with popcorn and blankets. The movie had to be Pg 13, due to the fact some of the kids could get triggered by certain things showed on R rated movies. 

You couldn't begin to imagine the things that could cause an outburst in this place. In the past 24 hours, we've had three emotional outbursts.

"Michael, sweetie. Calm down." Mrs. DeGram said as Ms. Weiss held him down due to his frustration.

Michael's mom hadn't shown up to visiting hours, but Michael was determined she'd show up.

"No! My mom will be here, she's just running late!" Michael screamed, pushing away from Ms. Weiss. Ms. Weiss got ahold of him again and held him down gently in order to calm him down.

"Michael, you need some food and some rest. Come with me." Mrs. DeGram says, holding Michael's hand as she pulls him down the small hallway that led to the dining area, where a few of the kids were seated.

Michael's mom came today, she sat and explained to him that his younger sister, Gabriella, was feeling sick last night so they brought her to see a doctor.

Faith also had a panic attack. Her father, whom she hadn't seen in ages, decided last night would be the perfect time to see her.

Faith had to be pulled away from the tall brown headed man that sat ahead of her after she screamed and clawed at him as she called him a "dirty cheating bastard"

Olivia held her closely as she shook from under her arm, whispering things to her to calm her down as her father was kicked off of the premises.

Gabe, the newest member of the facility, was having major drug withdrawals. Him and Tyler began talking about what made them start doing drugs, which seemed to have calmed Gabe down a bit.

Gabe and Tyler began laughing about their first time trying ecstasy, as me, Olivia, and Faith were playing yet another game of skip-bo.

Day 121, about 4 months in. Ethan still came to visit everyday. Seeing his tall body walk through the big glass doors, opening his arms for the hug you greeted him with every day. 

“Y/n, baby. I’ve missed you.” Ethan states as he pulls you back in for a hug, his grip beginning to get tighter. 

“Dude, I was actually just so happy when I did it. I just wanted to do everything I’ve ever wanted right then and there.” Tyler began telling Gabe, the two of them still talking about ecstasy. 

“Are they talking about drugs?” Ethan says, looking at the two of them and back at you. 

You smiled at him and gripped onto his arms, nodding your head, “Yeah, ecstasy I think.” 

Ethan just nods and the two of you take a seat, joining in on the conversation Faith and Olivia were having. Faith was laughing at some joke Ethan had made, while you and Olivia were talking more about family life and other random things. 

Olivia’s mom passed from cancer a few years back, that’s what initially started her depression. Her dad took a tough road when it happened as well, but the two of them stuck together through it all. He visits her every Monday, Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday. The other days he has to work late. 

You turned to Ethan and laughed at some joke he made once again, causing him to grin and pull you in for another hug. You continued to laugh as you thought more about it. The joke wasn’t that funny, it was just some dad joke he probably saw on a popsicle stick before coming here. 

The next hour went by pretty quick, meaning Ethan would have to leave in the next few minutes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” You ask, hugging Ethan again and kissing him before he had to go. 

“Of course you will y/n. I wouldn’t forget.” Ethan says, holding you closely as your head rested on his shoulder. 

The next few months were basically the same, a few of the kids getting out and a few being transferred to the adult facility due to birthdays and being officially 18. 

It was now March 17th. Meaning I had about 3 more months before I was officially out of this place. They told me I would have to stay in the adult facility for a few days because I joined only 5 days after my 17th birthday, so I would turn 18 before they could legally let me out. 

Eventually, 3 o clock rolled around. I sat at the normal table I did while I waited for Ethan to show up. 

4 pm and he still wasn’t here. Maybe he had something come up. You didn’t want to worry too much, but in the back of your head you were extremely scared. 

“y/n, sweetie. He’ll be here tomorrow, just ignore it okay? I’m sure everything is fine.” Olivia said, pulling me in for a hug. Faith joined in soon after, which eventually led to a group hug with Me, Olivia, Faith, Gabe, and Tyler. The four of them all knew how much Ethan meant to me and how worried I was when he hadn’t shown up for today's visit. 

Soon enough, the next day rolled around. 

Ethan wasn’t here for this visiting either. My mind seemed to be a jumbled up mess at the time, my anxiety kicking in. 

Ethan had to show up, I know he did. He wouldn’t be late unless something bad happened. It wasn’t like him to do that. 

The next 2 weeks went by slowly, each day getting more painful. Ethan still hadn’t been there. You did everything in your power to ignore it but as the days went on you seemed to have just gotten more worried and more hurt. 

27 days later. Ethan hadn’t been there. You went over to the nurses office, where you asked Ms. Weiss if you could talk to her for a minute. 

“Of course y/n. What do you need dear?” Ms. Weiss said, allowing you to come into her office. You smile at her politeness and take a seat before asking, “Can you take Ethan Dolan’s name off of the visiting list?” 

She simply gives you a “is everything alright” look and then nods before going onto her computer to delete his name from the visiting list. “Would you like to continue receiving letters from him?” 

You nod and say that it’s okay if she kept that, maybe he would be able to explain himself. 

As you leave Ms. Weiss room, Faith runs up to you and pulls you over to where Olivia and Tyler were sitting, Tyler yelling at Olivia for an unknown reason. 

“Faith, what’s going on?” You ask, whisper-yelling into her ear. She shrugs and responds with, “I think something Olivia said upset Tyler. I don’t know what! Please help.” 

You nod at Faith and pull her in for a hug before telling her to go get one of the nurses to separate the two. 

The nurse comes back and pulls the two away from eachother and brings Tyler over to another area where Gabe was seated. You and Olivia talked about what happened and Faith sat in silence for the rest of the day, probably shaken up by two of her closest friends here getting into such a big fight. 

A fight between them wasn’t a very common thing, most of the time everything was nice and dandy. 

1 week later. Ethan had tried to show up his 28th day, you saw him. But the nurse waved him off and after a bit of arguing, he left. 

“y/n. These are for you.” Mrs. DeGram says, handing you a basket filled with roses. You look at it for a minute, confused as to who would send you so many roses. You turn it and see an envelope, which eases your confusion for a minute. 

Y/n, the envelope said very large across the top. It was clearly Ethan’s handwriting. You ripped the envelope open and started reading. 

“Y/n. I just want to begin and say how sorry I am. I skipped the past 27 days because I needed time to think. It hurt me to see you like this and I kept on my tough guy face for you. But I couldn’t do it anymore and I didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t want you to worry. And I know you’re angry with me. But please, please put my name back on the list so I can talk to you. I miss you.  -E”

You were still a bit angry, but you couldn’t be mad at him for too long. You walked to Ms. Weiss’ office and asked her to put Ethan’s name back on the list. She nodded and smiled as you left the room to go back to talking to Olivia and Faith. 

Soon enough, the next day rolled around. Ethan came, right at 3 o clock. He lightly smiled at you as he walked towards you, giving you a hug. 

You weeped in his arms. You didn’t expect to be sad when you saw him. You thought you’d be angry. But it wasn’t the case. You hadn’t realized how much you really missed him til now. 

Ethan began to explain himself, and if I’m being honest, it took a lot of time and tears before he could fully get it out. 

“Ethan. Why so many roses? I mean, you could’ve just gotten me one and it would have been okay.” You ask, looking at the plentiful amount of roses that were still seated at the table they had been when you got them. 

“27 roses for every day I missed.” Ethan says, hugging you again and kissing your forehead. You smiled and pulled away. 

“I love you, doofus.” 

Ethan grinned and laughed, “I love you too, y/n. And I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ll be right with you when you’re outta this place.”

[beaumvnts]

what the fuck is up, lads, i’m allura / 18+ / est. it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been in a tumblr rp so i’m really excited to be here !! i start college soon so if my activity is a bit wacky, i’m sorry. anyway! less about me and more about my baby below. if you like this post i’ll pop into your ims for plots!

a JORDAN FISHER lookalike was strolling down broadway street in their dolce & gabbana boots. julian “jules” beaumont just had a birthday bash for their twenty-second birthday. they have been living in new york city for all their life. i hear they tend to be overwhelming at parties, but also kind of compassionate. ( agender & they/them ) 

AESTHETIC — police sirens in the distance, broken glass on the sidewalk, an acidic taste at the back of the mouth, leather jacket on a summer day, wall covered with sci-fi posters, star wars main theme, bass boosted music playing through the open windows of a fancy car, a collection of snapbacks, crumpled up paper littering the floor, the antiseptic smell of hospitals, slamming doors in anger, constant bickering of siblings, burning rubber, ripped jeans, dark long sleeve t-shirts, missed calls & ignored texts from parents.

QUICK STATS — name : julian asra beaumont nicknames : j, jules age : 22 gender & pronouns : agender & they/them sexuality : pansexual relationship status : single (commitment issues? check.) occupation: student at nyu, studying mechanical engineering because they’re being forced to by their parents. plays bass in a band called ‘a little disorganized’. parents : lucio beaumont & dr. laura beaumont siblings : allison (17), victor (20), katherine (25), mason (26) - personality : impulsive, overwhelming, careless, truculent, uncommitted + personality : adventurous, compassionate, charming, dedicated, loyal

BIO (AKA BULLETPOINTS IN A SOMEWHAT CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER) —

lucio and laura both hailed from rich families and knew eachother as children, drifted in highschool, met again at yale university, and fell in love with eachother. lucio took over his father’s company almost right out of college, and laura went on to get a doctorate in biomedical engineering. together, they had five children who they raised in manhattan.

their two oldest, mason and katherine, are already extremely accomplished in their respective fields, law and software engineering.

their two youngest, allison and victor, hold great promise of a future in business and football respectively. 

and then there is their middle child, jules. they are the, what their parents would whisper behind closed doors, family disappointment. 

they grew up a quiet child, but was often pushed around by their siblings. fights between them and mason weren’t uncommon, and often, the two would walk in with matching black eyes, broken noses, and split lips. still, mason always stood up for them when they needed it, though they would repeatedly state they don’t.

jules has never really been in a relationship, being afraid of commitment. this likely comes from the fact that they were ignored by their parents at best, their siblings shining as bright as stars next to julian’s black hole of a personality. they don’t believe anything good comes out of love, going even further to state that love isn’t actually real.

a lot of what reckless things they do is for attention that they were starved of during their childhood.

as soon as they somehow graduated highschool with a disappointingly average gpa, julian distanced themself from their family even more than they already were. they adopted a dog, cheerfully named chewbacca, who is their favorite companion.

to their parents’ disdain, jules didn’t want to go to college. however, they were willing to give their child a year or two to ‘’find themself’’ before going to college. 

**CAR ACCIDENT TW, DEATH TW** two years ago, when their second gap year was coming to an end, they were the assigned driver to a few of their drunk friends. jules really is a good driver (though they joke that gays can’t drive). their friends were distracting them unintentionally as they would and a truck t-boned the passenger side of their car. two of their friends died on impact, another was sent into a coma but woke up a week later, and a fourth was rendered unconscious and was in a critical state. julian themself was the only conscious one, and was able to call the authorities before passing out. the bottom half of their right leg, however, was crushed in the wreckage and ended up needing to be amputated. 

their mom, thankfully, was in the process of designing a top notch prosthetic that functions extremely well, and jules was fitted for one as soon as they could be. they also sustained bad scarring and burns across their torso and arms, which is the reason that they almost always wear long sleeves. their prosthetic doesn’t have synthetic skin as per their own request, because they wanted it to serve as a reminder for their past. the metal of the prosthetic is completely black and all the machinery is visible.

in their vulnerable post-accident state, their parents persuaded them into applying for college to continue their education, which is why this coming fall semester, they are entering their junior (3rd) year of college at nyu studying mechanical engineering.

they do suffer from ptsd and anxiety because of the accident, and pointedly do not go to therapy, claiming that they are perfectly fine. they also skipped much of their physical therapy. 

during the middle of their freshman year of college, they sporadically formed a band with a few of their friends, lovingly called ‘a little disorganized’. they play the bass, do backing vocals, and write most of the lyrics. 

their band really took off a few months ago and are currently recording their first album

oof i think that’s it for now? i’ll add more if i need to (hopefully i dont)

PLOTS —

exes — their relationships don’t last more than three months at most. likely, these will all be on bad terms, though a few are still on good terms. most of it means nothing to them, and even if it does, they push it away. 

fwb/enemies with benefits — probably the longest lasting commitment they had with another person that wasn’t just friend friend.

ex friend — perhaps they were in the crash with them ? or they just ended up drifting apart because of the different paths their lives took.

bandmates — please... drummer, vocalist, guitarist

study buddies — jules isn’t really interested in college and are only there because they have to be, so it’d be great to have someone that is a good influence on them to just sit down and crack open the textbook for once.

confidant — their closest friend, someone that they tell everything to and vice versa. probably the second person they contacted after calling the police after the accident.

crush — either your muse on mine or mine on yours it doesn’t matter! we can discuss later uwu

blease... i’m open to anything.... it’s been a while since i’ve done this...