#sometimes we talk about my baths in therapy

[anxiousgirl]

drinking coconut water in the bathtub and I got my candles and my music and I’m like this is the liiiiiife.

[chobani-flip]

ok, i have decided that i need tommy kinard to have some annoying qualities.

so far, in s7, he's been so patient and kind and thoughtful and open and funny and there for buck, and that's great. but i need him to have weird hangups. and do irritating things.

so, here's my new headcanons:

(adding to the existing ones of tommy is a coffee snob (here | here) and "if i sits i flies" tommy cannot pilot drones)

tommy is absolutely unreasonable about shutting doors behind you whenever you walk through them and he's in the room. even if you're gonna be right back and you're just getting something. whether it's summer or winter. whether it's hot or cold. doors must be shut at all times because otherwise there is a DRAFT, evan!

(im basing this on tommy's long-sleeved layer choices in s7)

tommy had worked on himself a lot in therapy, and he knows that being open with people is important, but sometimes he still likes to stew for a bit before he comes out with whatever is bothering him. and sometimes he has a hard time admitting when he feels genuinely upset about something. god, tommy, stop saying you don't mind about the buttons. i know it's just a shirt but it's your favorite shirt and i should have been more careful. i will get it fixed for you, baby, but stop saying you don't mind i can see the line between your eyebrows.

(im basing this on tommy insisting that he was absolutely not bothered by buck's famous picking-up-chicks comment. he was only concerned because buck wasn't ready. babe, you were at the very least disappointed, we could all see it, it's ok, you're allowed.)

tommy lowkey hates and is afraid of birds (the ones that can talk especially, but also in general) he is very embarrassed about this, and not very rational about it. buck finds out after they move in together and he suggests installing a bird bath near the kitchen window and gets an extreme NONREACTION in response. once tommy finally brings himself to explain his issue (no matter what howie says, cocks have NOTHING to do with it, evan! my grandmother had an parrot that she let fly all around the house and he'd shit everywhere and do horror film noises in the middle of the night. he was Evil.), they agree that birds are important for the ecosystem and, to the effect of them not dying of overheating in the furnace that is LA, buck and tommy's household should do their part. just far away from anywhere that tommy likes to sit.

(im taking maurice the terrifying rooster and running with it, folks. but in my headcanon, maurice merely exacerbated the issue that was already there. )

[bagopucks]

Q. Hughes - Wildest Storms

✄————————————

Quinn Hughes x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): anxiety/panic attack, mentioned kidnapping, Mentioned therapy? Is that considered a trigger? I’m still learning.

—————————————

“I love you! We’ll be back around twelve, I promise!”

Quinn promised…

I never told Quinn no to anything when his team won a game. The Canucks always seemed to be struggling, and Quinn was always tense. So on the occasions when he did win, and when he felt on top of the world, I never held him back.

Some nights after a big win, Quinn would spend copious amounts of time with me. He’d come straight home and we’d sit and talk for hours, splurge in bed on snacks we shouldn’t before sleeping, or hop in a bath together to relax. My sleep schedule was never the greatest, so it was natural for me to be up past one am. Especially when Quinn was playing hockey, or out of town for a road trip.

Other nights however, Quinn would come home, change, kiss me and ask if he could go out, and then off he went.

Usually I was good with Quinn leaving and being out past midnight. He was responsible, and loyal. If he was having fun, I saw no reason to stop him. But this night in particular just seemed to be going wrong.

I’d had a therapy appointment earlier in the day. Usually they leave me tense and sometimes emotional depending on the conversational topics that are discussed. But I went to therapy for my anxiety, so each discussion was a simple reminder of all I had to worry about in my life. After my appointments, I liked to call Quinn or I would return home to rest with him for a few hours. But he had a practice that had been pushed to the middle of the day due to a bad snowstorm. By the time I got home, I assumed he was already on the ice and prepping with his team for the game this evening.

I had no lifeline but myself.. and my mind was never as helpful as it ought to be. I spent all day ruminating in my thoughts, going through the motions in a blur. The only thing to break my anxious trance had been Quinn calling to say he wouldn’t make it home before the game. I did get a bit irritated, but I tried not to let my frustrations out on him. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

I spent my evening watching the game and eating a bowl of soup. The dark cloud of anxiety that loomed over me only thickened throughout the day, and I knew I was liable to dry heaving in the midst of anxiety or panic attacks. So I tried not to eat anything that would have been hard on my stomach.

The game was used as a distraction. And admittedly it had been a good one, until I got a text alert on my phone about a local kidnapping. They didn’t happen often, but the eerie text tone that accompanied it always made my stomach drop.

After that, I spiraled. I tried to watch the Canucks game, but my mind was hyper focused, and my senses were tuned in to every little thing in the apartment around me. The wind outside was whipping, another snowfall painting the once cleared roads with another coat of white. It was pitch black out, and pitch black in our apartment aside from the tv illuminating the living area.

A sense of dread washed over me, so heavy that I never noticed the game had been over. The Canucks had won, and it was the end of a horrible losing streak. My eyes shot toward the door when I heard the handle move, drawing in a sharp gasp as I scrambled off the couch, just in time for the door to open and a whole group of guys come barreling in. Led by my boyfriend, his hair slightly damp from a shower, dressed in the suit he’d left in around lunch.

“We won!” He sounded so happy, but my ears began ringing when everybody started shouting too, scattering about our apartment for who knows what.

“Quinn..” his name quivered off my lips, too quiet for him to hear across the room. Quinn immediately made his way over, snatching me up in a tight hug that made me feel like I was suffocating. “Quinn-“ I repeated his name in a choked out manner. As he pulled back, his smile remained. I tried to stop the shaking in my hands as I reached out to grab his arms.

“I’m gonna go out, okay?”

He promised he’d be back.

It’s past two am now, and I’m shaking in the corner of my apartment, pressed against the living room wall. I deemed it the best place to see everything in case somebody came in the door or out from behind a wall. In the bedroom I would have been cornered, same as the bathroom. The kitchen didn’t give me proper sight of the door, and the closet.. well that was just a dumb idea. My hands were resting on the floor. At first I found comfort in the chill from the wood tile, but at some point the chill was replaced by my body heat. My hands were clammy from sweat, and my heart was racing.

I felt like I was in the midst of some intense workout. My mind was racing, causing that dread to fall upon my shoulders again. The clouds of anxiety above my head had finally begun to rain. My thoughts were too heavy for them to hold any longer.

What if Quinn wasn’t okay? What if he was drunk and his friends left him alone? Oh god, what if somebody took him? What if somebody was coming to take me? I would have felt safer with Quinn around.. where was Quinn?

Heavy tears began to flow down my cheeks. I was shaking, but frozen in place. Emotional, and yet disconnected from my reality at the same time. Sounds and movements I’d once been hyper focused on, were now going unnoticed. My flight response had kicked in, but by that point, my mind had shut down too much to actually fly away. I was a mess of emotion on my living room floor. I was going to die.

The door opened for the second time that night, and I felt my heart drop. I began sobbing, shaking endlessly as that familiar turn in my stomach made me shoot off the floor. I was going to throw up. I didn’t notice Quinn sprinting across the room to grab me as I stood and collapsed directly into his arms.

“No!” I pushed against him violently, punching and flailing every limb to fight off my attacker.

Quinn held me tighter.

“Baby! Baby.. hey, everything’s okay!” Quinn could sense my distress, trying to keep my trembling body from losing its balance while he leaned his head in next to my ear.

When I heard his voice, the realization that I wasn’t being snatched up had dawned on me. I collapsed against his chest, my legs practically falling slack as I began to sob into Quinn’s body. My cries shook my own body, back rising and falling at a sporadic pace while Quinn tried to hold onto me and drag me to the couch.

“Baby..” he cooed, dropping carefully onto the couch. I fell into it with him, finding myself in his lap as he tried to situate me in a good spot. My cries never ceased, but they did quiet as Quinn stroked my back with one hand and ran the other through my hair.

“I’m right here..”

“I’m not headed anywhere.”

“This is just your anxiety,”

“You’re safe.”

“I’ll protect you.”

Quinn always knew. He never called my fears irrational or stupid, but in times when it was hard for me to differentiate normal concerns against anxious ones, he was always there to remind me. Always there to assure I wasn’t dying or having a heart attack, and that it was all my body’s response to something in my head.

“Quinn..” I whispered shakily against his chest, hearing him hum to acknowledge me.

“You’re okay, baby.” He slowly moved from beneath me, “I’ll be right back.” This caused another bit of dread to form in my gut.

“No,” I sobbed, my body leaning against the couch, helpless as I watched my boyfriend whisk away into the kitchen. He came back moments later with an ice pack and a bottle of water, which he placed on the coffee table.

“See? Im right here.” Quinn shrugged off his suit jacket, tucking a hand between my shoulder and the couch cushion to push me upright. He draped the jacket over my shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to my head as he did so.

The warmth of the jacket was the last thing I needed, but the scent shift from my perfume to his cologne helped calm me somewhat. The tears still flowed down my cheeks, but I felt I had a slightly better grip on my surroundings.

“Take a sip?” Quinn grabbed the water bottle and twisted the cap off, tossing it into the coffee table. He sat down and held the bottle out, though when I reached for it, my hand was still shaking. A quiet cry escaped my lips at the realization that I couldn’t do something as simple as holding a water bottle.

“No worries,” he spoke softly, assuring me it was fine as he set the bottle down on the table, exchanging it for the ice pack. “We’ll just try the ice pack for now.” He slowly moved in, resting his back against the couch and gesturing for me to lean into him. I did, scooting over next to Quinn and resting my back against his arm and half of his chest. One of my hands came down to grip the thigh closest to me.

“You’re my favorite girl in the whole wide world,” Quinn whispered as he wrapped an arm around me, carefully resting the ice pack on my leg. The sensation was distracting, as was the strategic statement about me being his favorite girl. I thought his mother was.

“What’s my hockey number?” I rested my head against Quinn’s shoulder as he spoke, barely above a whisper.

“Forty three..” my voice still quivered, but it sounded more firm than before. I had a grip on pieces of my reality now.

“That was an easy one,” he teased softly in response. “Whats my favorite pair of shoes?”

I had to roll my eyes at him. “Dumbass fuzzy slippers…” I spoke. That was our ‘matching ensemble’ one Christmas. Warm, fuzzy slippers. They didn’t count as shoes in my book, but he wore them all the time around the apartment or at the lake house.

Quinn managed a quiet chuckle, the movement of his chest and the sound of his deep laugh causing another wave of anxiety to settle.

“When did we say our first I Love You’s?” Quinn moved the ice pack to my shoulder. I let out a quiet sigh, then sniffled. I carefully reached up to rub the tears from my eyes as a sad smile formed on my lips.

“When we took Tyler’s son to the aquarium..” my grip on Quinn’s thigh eased.

“And what do you remember?”

“I remember you,” I paused for another sniffle. “You couldn’t get him to walk away from the puffer fish. You tried to pick him up, and he got a little mad.” A little was a vast understatement, and we both knew it, causing us to laugh softly together.

“You wanna know what I remember?” Quinn asked, and I nodded, slowly picking my head up and turning to look at him, draping my legs over his lap.

“I remember watching you take him down the little tunnel where you could stand in the turtle enclosure. And I remember watching you pick him up and hold him on your hip.. and thinking how much I love you. And how much you’re gonna make a great mother some day.”

My heart fluttered at Quinn’s words, but this type didn’t make me panicky or anxious. I smiled at him. Quinn carefully pulled the ice pack off my shoulder, tossing it onto the couch behind me.

“And I remember saying how much I love you when you guys got back.” Quinn reached to cup my cheek in his hand. “All of you. Every single part of you.” He smiled at the sight of my own.

I leaned in to press my forehead against his own, sighing softly.

“Thank you Quinn,” relief finally flooded my voice. He pulled back slowly, nodding.

“I’m always here for you. You’re my girl, I’ll take care of you no matter what.” Quinn rested a hand on one of my knees as he leaned forward to grab the once forgotten water bottle.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, holding the bottle out. This time I took it with a steady hand.

“I had soup.. but if you pop something in the oven I might snack on it.” I could tell by the smile forming on his lips, that he knew what I wanted. A warm pizza.

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow.” Usually Quinn would suggest a nap after a panic attack, but if I didn’t eat before sleeping, I’d wake up with a headache. Another reason to be miserable.

“Put a pepperoni one in,” I spoke before taking a sip of water. Quinn rolled his eyes at me and laughed.

“Adventurous,” he teased, making me giggle softly. “Do you want to rest here, or come with me?” He slowly moved my legs from his lap.

“I’ll come with.” I sniffed again, slowly standing up with Quinn. He reached for my free hand, intertwining our fingers as we ventured into the kitchen. We spent a good few hours talking about the hockey game and other little topics over pizza. We never made it to the table though after it came out of the oven. We simply stood, leaning over the kitchen island side by side, giggling and whispering back and forth like teenagers. Only I could make Quinn act like a child, and only he could calm my wildest storms.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

[lowkeyrobin]

Hiiiiii just wanted to put in a request of Trevor Spangler x reader angst where reader is trapped with a hostile ghost, just in the mood for some angst 🤭

ooooo okay okay I see the vision ; thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy! I need gbfe to release on digital bc I'm in desperate need to get new banners/headers. sigh ; post writing robin here, I missed the whole angst bit somehow bc idek how to write good angst so I apologize

TREVOR SPENGLER ; hostile ghost exposure therapy

summary ; youre a scientist in the making working with the ghostbusters squad and expose hostile ghosts and ghouls to human kind. sometimes it can be rough, though

warnings ; language, choking, weird ghost shit

disclaimers ; ik ghostbusters usually focuses on the ghouley types of ghosts but standard ghosts were the idea for this lol. I've been watching The Boys explore haunted places all day so what can I say

word count ; 783

masterlist

Proton barriers this, ghost containment that. Whatever Lars was speaking about didn't matter to you at this moment. What did matter was trying to help this new, very hostile, ghost adjust to being in the presence of a human.

The barrier quickly slips down, then right back up once you step inside the room. Glass surrounds the exterior, then Lars steps away, leaving you to do your thing. Lucky waves a few feet away, wishing you a silent good luck before getting back to work.

Trevor and Phoebe talk about with Lucky, Lars, and Podcast, testing out one of the newer machines in the lab. You face the approximate direction of the ghost, not exactly able to see it without its permission.

You carefully sit down in a chair across from the one left empty from it, bathing in the silence before speaking.

"My name's Y/n, what's yours?" You ask, not really expecting an answer. Thank God this was a standard ghost and not a ghoul. You didn't think you had the patience for that today. "It's alright if you don't want to tell me. I just want to know why you're so hostile to make you that way. I'm not here to judge, I have good intentions. I promise you that"

Step one, build trust and rapport.

Silence.

You internally nod, moving your legs in a criss-cross manner to get a little more comfortable. Apparently, the ghost didn't like this silence and chucked a ceramic vase, which sat on the coffee table between the chairs, towards you. It just barely misses you and breaks on impact with the wall behind you, causing you to flinch a bit. The dusty, broken ceramic clatters onto the floor, creating a million pieces out of the used-to-be one-piece vase.

You keep your composure, not giving the undead the attention that she wanted. You sit in silence, a clear look of 'not taking shit' on your face.

"Stupid bitch" It whispers into your ear, catching you off gaurd. You feel a shiver run down your spine as a wave of coolness washes over you.

You lightly sigh, "We can sit here and insult each other all you want. I'm just here to help" You speak, leaning back in your chair.

Over the course of the next ten or so minutes, you hear petty insult after insult, like this ghost was trying to dig into your skin and was just miserably failing. You'd gotten used to this long ago. When would they ever learn?

Suddenly, you feel a tight sensation around your throat, which you nearly panic at feeling, considering you can feel the air suddenly leaving you. You grab at your throat, choking and gasping for air, trying to get whatever hands were on you off out of pure human instinct.

This has happened a few times, where the ghosts will put hands on you. It's never escalated to immediate choking, though, which was why it worried you so much. This was a very hostile ghost. It wasn't just going to stop. It wanted to hurt.

"Get off of me!" You joke, instinctively kicking out towards the ghost, who's obviously unable to feel it. "I want to help you!"

You feel your face grow cold, and your eyes become heavy. The transparent figure now becomes slightly visible, still very much opaque as it stands in front of you, arms stretched out to squeeze down on your throat.

You hear some muffled shouting outside, then a lot of mechanical wirring and beeping. Lars and Trevor came to your rescue, the older man cautiously pulling down the proton fields while the teenage boy ran in to help you.

You don't know exactly what happened within the next few seconds, but the forceful grip on your throat was pushed away, and you were quickly ushered past the proton barrier again.

Trevor holds you up as you choke and gasp for air, already feeling your throat begin to bruise.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" He quickly asks, sitting you down on the floor.

You nod and cough some more, trying to regulate the amount of air swarming to your lungs. You pound on your chest like you were choking on an actual something, wanting the painful choking to stop.

Once it does end, Trev quickly wraps you in a hug, trying to make sure you were okay.

"I'm okay, I'm fine. Just fucking hurt" You nod

"Are you sure? Phoebe, go get them some water." He quickly speaks, turning back to Phoebe, Podcast, and Lucky, who were concerningly watching from afar. Phoebe nods and quickly jogs out to the kitchen/lunchroom area.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm okay. Thank you"

[bluejaysandblackbats]

You're Just Like Quicksand

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Beyond

Summary: Jason Todd is ready to go into semi-retirement after fifteen years working with troubled youth, but one case in particular forces him to confront the sins of his youth and painful memories from his past.

Chapters: 15/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Terry McGinnis, Warren McGinnis, Mary McGinnis, Matt McGinnis, Bruce Wayne, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Retired Jason Todd, Multiple POV, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, Angst, Mourning Jason Todd

Chapter Fifteen: Back of the Closet (Jason's POV)

Every day after I finished dropping Terry off, I spent a few minutes getting Avery-Marie cleaned up for dinner, and I checked on Andrew in his room. He’d taken up painting as a hobby, and he rarely came out of his room for anything. It was our normal. I knocked on the door frame, and Andrew looked up from his painting. “Whatcha working on, Drewby?” I asked. 

“Mom’s garden,” Andrew answered. I sat beside him, rustling a hand through his hair, and I kissed his temple. It’d been two years, and I still couldn’t get past the joy I felt looking at his face every day. “How was your day? Is your friend’s son okay?” 

“Uh-huh… I’m worried Powers is after him because of something his father found out… I’m gonna have someone look into it,” I answered. Andrew looked at me. 

“Are you gonna put the helmet back on?” Andrew questioned. I shook my head. 

“I don’t want to. I wanna see if the authorities can suss this out without help… Did you go to therapy today?” I questioned. Andrew nodded. I never pushed him to talk about it, but he’d tell me sometimes if he was in the mood to talk. Andrew continued to work on his painting. 

“I talked about you today… And Mom… Why weren’t you and Mom getting along?” What happened?” Andrew asked. It was a long time coming, but I was surprised he finally asked me about it. 

“It was my fault… I didn’t pay enough attention to her, and I never listened to her pleas about making nice with your grandfather. She just wanted me to work through my trauma. And I wanted to close it off and pretend it didn’t matter,” I answered, “Your mother was the sweetest woman I ever met. She was a good wife and an amazing mother. We weren’t gonna divorce… I would’ve stayed with her forever if I could’ve.”

Andrew smiled. I’d been seeing a lot more of that recently. Avery-Marie finished taking her bath, and she knocked on the door. “Uncle Andy,” Avery-Marie whispered as she knocked on the door. “Uncle Andy, can I show you something?” 

Andrew stopped painting, handed me his brush, and he let Avery-Marie in. He never turned her away. Even on his bad days, he gave her his full attention, showering her with love and affection like he used to do with Maggie. He picked her up and kissed her cheek. “What is it, Sugar Plum?” Andrew asked. 

“I made you something,” Avery-Marie whispered. She always whispered to him. He set her down, and she ran to grab her backpack before returning with a handmade suncatcher. “Grandpa put his present in the car.” 

Andrew opened his window and taped it there. “Wow. Thank you so much, Avie. Every time it’s sunny, I’ll be able to open my curtains and see the rainbow. This is so nice,” Andrew grinned. 

“I’m gonna start dinner,” I whispered to excuse myself. Andrew would help Avery-Marie with her homework while I cooked. It always calmed my nerves. I liked dinnertime. It was the only time I had to clear my head and focus on a single task. I didn’t have to think about Abigail surrendering custody of Avery-Marie to me. I didn’t have to think about Michael being tangled up in the magic scene in Louisiana. I didn’t have to think about Andrew’s agoraphobia. When I cooked, it was just me and the stove. Today, I made burgers and french fries. It was Avery-Marie’s favorite. I brought our meal to Andrew’s bedroom, and we ate at the little table by his closet. Avery-Marie sat on my knee while we ate. Andrew took his pills with dinner. After dinner, I put a movie on for Avery-Marie, and Andrew took a nap beside her. 

**

When nighttime came, Andrew listened to the police scanner before bed. “That’s a code I haven’t heard in a while,” Andrew whispered. 

“What’s that, Drew?” I questioned. 

“The code for masked vigilantes. At Wayne Powers on the roof. Do you think it’s Grandpa?” Andrew asked. I shook my head. “Dad?”

“It’s Terry,” I answered. There was no doubt or hesitation in me when I said it. It had to be Terry, and I felt my blood run cold. Andrew frowned and nodded at me. 

I shook my head, feeling torn between my duty to Warren and his family, and my duty to my family. It felt like the same thing. Warren, Mary, Terry, and Matt felt like family… But Andrew grabbed my hand. “You stepped away because you didn’t want to hurt kids… Now you have the chance to save one. Go ahead, Dad,” Andrew reassured me, “Don’t be gone too long, or I’ll call Uncle Dick.”

“Uncle Dick is in California,” I whispered before kissing his forehead, “Comms are in my bedroom.” 

I left the room and got dressed in the last model of my costume. I hadn’t worn it since the kids were babies. They knew about it. That wasn’t a secret to them. 

I took my motorcycle through the old passageways to get there faster, and I could tell from the sound of the security guards that Terry was there already. I turned comms on, calling straight to the cave like old times, hoping someone was on the other line. “Anyone on the line?” I questioned. 

“Hood?” Bruce’s voice half-exclaimed on the other line. 

“What’s his location and why would you let him wear the—?” I heard a gunshot and a hissing noise before looking up to see Terry in the Batman suit tailing a plane. “He can’t do this on his own—.” 

“The kid is in the suit against my wishes… But he’s got it under control. He’s got a natural talent for this… Go home, Hood. Stepping in now would only jeopardize his safety. Unless you’d like to talk about—.” 

“Listen here, you sick old man. I’m only coming there, so I can chew you out for allowing this curse to take another kid,” I whispered. The drive to the cave felt like it took an eternity, but it was only a few minutes. Bruce sat in his chair, looking more alive than I’d seen him in years. He had a distinct twinkle in his eye. I hadn’t seen that in him since I was a little boy. 

“He said he’s heading straight home… I didn’t know he was one of your kids. If I did, I wouldn’t have hit him so hard when I caught him down here. What’s your opinion on his mental state?” Bruce asked. 

I couldn’t lie to him. “Terry craves adrenaline, and he’s smart… Intuitive and compassionate. He has a record and a past, but that’s not reflective of how strong his conscience is. Terry feels guilty for things that he’s done, and he has a strong desire to set things right even if they seem completely out of his control. He’s deeply empathetic… More than anyone I’ve ever seen, and I originally planned on partnering him up with a defense attorney before I took a step back from work two years ago… I’m not gonna be able to talk him out of this, am I? And I can’t tell his mother. That’d kill her,” I answered. 

“He reminds me of you… He’s got a smart mouth, but I think that comes with being a teenager,” Bruce replied. 

“You like him… You lonely old—. You want him back here, don’t you?” I questioned. 

“This city’s falling apart. I think he’s fresh, and I appreciate his raw talent. If you say no, I’ll respect that—.” 

“But he won’t. I know how this works,” I interrupted. I wanted to blame Bruce this time, but I knew it was as much his curse as mine.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

maybe a continuance of the last one you wrote for me? just start talking about nerve pain in therapy and Rafe being agitated about it like in a good way but also being super caring with her

Late to the party but here at last. I love you bestie, I hope this helps❤️ This is a little different than the other one cuz I changed the dynamic between them to give you a little laugh :)

"Are you sure you're okay in there?" Rafe nags from behind the door and my eyes roll, my hands reaching out to steady myself against the counter. I pause for a moment, settling the nerves in my stomach before my lips part, a ragged, strained breath escaping me from the pain.

"Rafe, I'm fine, just give me a second," I mutter out and hear him move against the door, leaning against it as he waits for me to ask for help. He doesn't have to be here but he demanded it, not wanting me to be alone days after surgery. He's been pestering me incessantly, constantly asking if I need something and it's thrown me through the loop, not used to this calm and caring side of him.

Sometimes I wish he'd just leave me alone.

But I'd be lying if I said I wish he would just go home.

"I can help." He offers sweetly and timidly and I feel the jump of my heart at his caring words but I push it away, physically shaking away the thought as I blow out a breath, pulling my shirt over my head and onto the floor.

"I'm not having my friends with benefits help me in and out of the bath."

We've been sleeping with each other for months, constantly contacting each other in the middle of the night when we need each other and that's all it's been for the longest time; us hooking up and joking with each other and then him going home immediately after. But this crosses that unspoken boundary between us that that was all that we were, this changes things.

"It's not like I haven't seen you naked." He snorts and my eyes widen and I look at the door as if I can see right through it. If looks could kill...

"Shut up." I mutter and go to reach towards the door but I stop myself, knowing if I let him in to help me, that we would never go back to the way that we were. Seeing me and helping me in such a vulnerable state would change our dynamic completely and we would be less platonic, more connected.

And I'm not sure if I can handle that connection just yet.

"I'm just pointing out the obvious. No need to be shy." He knocks on the door once more, urging me to let him in and finally snap, moving towards the door to open it but I trip, my butt hitting the ground with a loud thump as I wince. "What was that?" Rafe asks worriedly and I pause, cursing under my breath, feeling so stupid for being so clumsy.

"I tripped." I huff, pushing my hair out of my face as the doorknob jiggles and I feel angry, frustrated tears rise to my eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"That's a loaded question."

"I'm coming in-" The door flies open and I immediately go to cover my chest but he just scoffs at me and reaches down towards me, hoisting me up into his arms and onto my unsteady feet.

"Rafe!" I whack his chest and he laughs, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ears sweetly, his eyes not moving south of my chin. The gentleman act that he's got going makes my stomach flutter and heart drop and I consider letting him in for just a moment, just to help me.

"Oh stop, c'mere." He pulls me towards the tub that's now full to the top and he reaches down to turn the water off and check the temperature. "What are they going to do about this? You're in too much pain." He asks, helping me out of my pants and I push my guilt and vulnerability down.

"You're just sad you can't do me." I snort and he pinches my side with a naughty grin.

"Shut up, I care about you sometimes." He helps me step into the bed with a soft smile, eyes not wandering like they normally would and I smile while he's not looking, wanting nothing but to fall into his arms and let him embrace me for hours.

"Wow, you care?" I ask sarcastically and his eyes roll, arms lowering me down into the tub as the warm water surrounds me. "I didn't know that was possible."

"Shut up." He sits down on the ground besides the tub and rolls up his sleeves and I try not to question him when he cups some warm water in his hands and dumps it across my shivering shoulders.

"They're talking about specific therapies to help my nerves. It's a long process so we're just playing it by ear right now." I break down my walls a little bit, letting him in and allowing him to see what's really going on under the surface, behind my body, and witty jokes that I know he loves so much.

There's a pause as he rinses my body, a soft smile on his lips as I watch him intently and he sighs before looking up at me, blue eyes soft and genuine.

"You know, if you ever need my help getting to appointments or if you need someone to sit with you, I don't do much."

"Yeah?" I ask after a moment of silence, digesting his offer.

"Yeah." He whispers back simply and bashfully.

"Okay." I nod, giving into his offer and allowing him to care for and about me without pushing him away even though it's my instinct.

"Okay?" He asks, shocked at my walls tumbling down, even if it's just temporary, and I nod, biting at my lip nervously. "Okay."

[world0fmadness]

୨୧ woke up earlier than i was hoping but i also woke up feeling better… well, i had one more little breakdown but i feel it was more of a… getting it all out of my system so that i can have a better day breakdown more than anything, just had to get my last tears out, you know? woke up close to 1 am, broke down and accidentally woke up my mother because i was sobbing a little too loud and she offered to sit in the garden with me to get some air, we didn’t speak much but she gave me one of her cigarettes to help soothe me a little and it was nice… don’t feel like it was enough to get me hooked again, smoking it just felt like an extra little stress reliever in the moment… i took another bath after we went back inside because i felt gross after crying and i feel… okay now! obviously not completely better, i will never be completely okay in life for a long, long time but i always get like this, get the worst breakdowns and think too much when my sleep schedule is fucked up and i have too much time on my hands, the nights can be too silent sometimes… but i didn’t fall back into hurting myself again which was good!

i would like to apologise to you all on here, i did not mean to worry any of you or annoy any of you… sometimes i just need to say things, i need to get thoughts out of my head and i do not have any friends to talk to, not really… my therapy ended a while ago now and my mother… well, i dislike burdening her, even if she tells me i need to talk to her about things… i just have a lot of unresolved childhood trauma that i don’t know how to deal with sometimes, i don’t know what to do when thoughts and memories arise! it’s as if my mind gets reverted back to when i was a child and similarly just couldn’t think of what to do… i would also like to thank those of you who voiced their love and support in my ask box, it means more than i could ever know to be aware that someone in the world, let alone multiple people, actually think about me and care about me! i will respond to your asks soon, when i feel more awake

sorry if this post is confusing or anything, my mind is still hazy from sleeping pills and i’m still not fully awake but getting there <3

[your-queer-dad]

Hi dad,

Today I had a panic attack.

I was overwhelmed, because my mom so sick, my migraines and dizziness and other stuff have been getting worse, algebra 2 is overwhelming sometimes, and I just feel drained because of it.

I didn’t lash out or anything, but I kinda just cried quietly and tried to eat dinner. I ate half of it, which was hard, but I threw the rest away.

I wanted to sh so bad, and the urges have been getting worse.

I’ve been finding new coping mechanisms, so that’s good, and they’ve been working.

I was able to lock myself in the bathroom and calm down, but I kinda just feel drained and somehow still anxious from it. I don’t know what to do. I have an awesome mom and older sister I can talk to, but it’s really hard to talk about stuff sometimes, and I really don’t want to bother anyone. I’m in therapy and on meds, but it’s just so hard sometimes, and everything just feels like to much sometimes. And I always feel like I’m faking it. Like my stimming is fakes. Like my interests are fake. Like my emotions are fake. Like my whole sense of self is fake. And like, I know it’s not true. I know I am autistic (diagnosed when I was 8), I know I’m passionate about infectious pathology, I know I feel stuff, I know I’m a guy, and that living as a girl was hell for me, but my emotions always feel fake and distant and numb, and I always doubt myself. I need to cry a lot, like breakdown and sob and scream, but I can’t, and it just feels so frustrating.

And I’ve just been having so many memories come up from my childhood, and it just makes me so sad.

I had a dream last night that I was shopping with my cousin (who helped me through a lot, and was my best friend during tough situations. I haven’t seen her in 5 years), and I just miss her so much. It made me so sad and happy at the same time, and I just wish I could see her again.

I miss my older brother (I haven’t seen him in 5 years either), and I just want to make sure he’s ok, and give him a hug.

I keep getting random memories of an old neighbor we used to live by, who was so seeet and kind. We trusted him a lot, and played in his backyard and porch area frequently. He always had those little popsicles that are in the plastic tube thingy, and he always gave me the blue ones cause he knew they were my favorite. And though we haven’t seen him in years (we moved a lot), I miss him, and hope he’s doing ok.

I always want to help out more, and feel like I’m not doing enough. I just want to be more useful and see people smile. I like being helpful, and it hurts when I can’t do something on my own.

I feel stupid and lazy all the time. I suck at math, and can’t focus. It’s just so hard to focus, and my brain has been fogging more often in the past few years, and I just want to do something right for once.

I don’t know how to tell my mom about this, but I know that I really need to, because I don’t want to relapse again, and I don’t want to scare anyone.

Do you have any advice?

Also, I hope this ask finds you well.

Please make sure to drink some water, eat something, shower/bathe, and get some rest

Thanks for reading this :)

Hey kiddo! That sounds like you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself bud. Im so proud of you for resisting the urge to self harm. I know personally how hard that is but I'm so proud of you. No matter how fake it feels, it isn't. It sounds to me like you're invalidating your own feelings there bud. However you're feeling is true. You aren't stupid or lazy, you have so much going on right now and it's okay to be overwhelmed sometimes. Life is crazy and loud and a whirlwind and calm and warm and painful- it's so many things, it's natural to be overwhelmed by it sometimes. I would really really recommend talking to someone if you feel like you're gonna self harm. It isn't a burden to them, they care about you as much as you care about them.

- dad x

[breesays]

My son, my sun

Where did my little boo learn to talk to plants? We take plant babies from Gramma Lita's massive yard, recently started propagating them in water. Nothing for the first couple of weeks. Then Des said, "Mama, let me hold them" - and he took the bulb in his hand, looked lovingly at that little would-be-could-be plant and spoke to it in a way that astonished me. "You are so beautiful" he said. "You are doing such a good job. I am so happy to see you." I died, they thrived.

Four nights ago we unwrapped a fragrant bath bomb and I said, "Mmm, rose" and he started serenading me, from the "wonderful roses" part of "Til There Was You" and who can even do that? I feel like if I want to sing something, even casually, I have to start from the top. He vocalizes the percussion part of songs. Chh chh chh. Probably not revolutionary, but something new for my brain.

Some of the moms who got a spot in TK are reporting back that one of their kids "goals" for the year is to count to 20. Oh. Des can count to 100, and in Spanish. The other day he taught me how to say "knees" in Spanish, which is when I found out he can sing "Head Shoulders Knees and Toes" in a second language. He remembers numbers really well, and has a good grasp of time. He can math way more at 4 years old than I could at like, 7 years old - and that's just because it's interesting to him, measurements and doubling things and how old was his friend Felix when he turned 2? Sometimes I just have to say, "That is a calculation I can't do on the fly, buddy."

He's growing his hair out long so he can make it curly, like his friend Vienna and his cousin Emerson. I wish he liked to read books together more, but maybe that will come later. It's OK if that's an interest we don't share. We make up new words until we're too tired, me channeling the IKEA catalog. Sometimes he says, "I have an idea - let's count to the highest number we know" to which I reply, "That does not sound like fun to mama, can we play a word game instead?" He also loves blowing up and popping balloons. Actually, he loves doing a lot of things with balloons - keepy uppy, birdy-flying, inflating then deflating, using them as stamps, talking about them on his imaginary YouTube channel...

He likes to eat seaweed snacks and will basically try any food at least once. He loves tomatoes, so much so that he will eat them like an apple. He steals my sushi and told me the pumpkin seeds needed "more paprika."

He makes funny observations. I took him to my work party recently and I told him Erica was in charge. When we looked back at photos from that night he asked, "Does Erica ever go home?" I said "Yes, of course, she has two kiddos of her own - why do you think that she doesn't?" He said, "Well, she's in charge."

My therapist is retiring at the end of the year, and then I won't have anyone to tell me what's healthy or adjusted anymore. I told her that sometimes Desmond says, "You know, Mama, I love Dada more than you." I respond: "That's OK, my love for you doesn't change." It doesn't hurt me, it makes me curious - what is he trying to accomplish? That non-judgemental curiosity they tried to summon from the depth of my cold being during the "can we save this marriage?" time - there it is! Therapist said: It's remarkable that he even vocalized this. It's called secure attachment.

For awhile I also wondered - does Des need therapy during this transition? He has asked why we don't live together anymore and I said, "not all families live together" - but all the families he knew of, did. So we got a couple books. Representation. Therapist said: Unless he is acting out, or it's disrupting, he is ok. Again, the fact that he's even asking these questions is GREAT. I do a value a good question-asker.

I'm still writing my book of essays and I've recently hit 38K words. I've considered publishing under a pseudonym, because I don't want to FIGHT about asexuality. I just want some previously unlearned people to know that it EXISTS. I publish most of my revelations and feelings about being Ace on my Medium. The blog that upset him was titled "Ace Week 2023" - and posted on Medium. I didn't have the time or mental capacity to react at the time. I just chose not to. Spiral, if you must - I will not add any fuel. But I did feel mad, when I unboxed that compartmentalization --

Sometimes I want to be kind and gentle and empathic because, wow we didn’t know anything, did we? There wasn’t the vocabulary for what I was experiencing. There were no alternate storylines to draw inspiration from. But sometimes I am furious, violated, underestimated. 

If you just light the path, everyone will find their own way there, right? I’m the deer in headlights, then I run towards the inevitable crash. Scampering off into the unlit wild was somehow more intimidating. So, blind yourself. Numb yourself. Anything to get to the other side.

[neurodiversebones]

anything about how the bones cast deal with a bad mental health day? give them some selfcare and love perhaps??? (also ily soleil i hope u feel better soon!!)

THEY ALL DESERVE SELF CARE !!!

brennan : her idea of self care is a good book and a hot bath- learning something entirely new and getting lost in it while she's all comfy is the best way to forget a bad day <3 if she's doing bad at work, she is quite prone to shutdown- to deal with this , she has her sensory kit with her weighted blanket and her stim tools :-)

booth : making other people feel good is rlly his favourite self care method- he is an acts of service man at heart !!! seeing his loved ones smile always makes things better- he likes to make his friends favourite meals for them or do something fun with the kids <3 ALWAYS makes his day better

angela : create create create ! no surprise that art is a release for her- we see in the show that her mental health gets So Much Worse when she cannot make art . putting her feelings on a canvas makes them so much more tangible and easy to deal with :'-) also she Is a hugger physical touch always makes her feel better

hodgins : he is sooo prone to isolating and spiralling but he is learning that . being around his loved ones is actually so good for him . a night in with angela where they can just Talk and be together with no distractions makes things sm better . he , like angela , is also a physical touch guy <3 lazy afternoon cuddles IS therapy i promise .

cam : talked abt this in my last few posts but she is also similar to hodgins in that she has a tendency to isolate herself- alone time is important to her , but she takes it a bit too far sometimes . for her , self care is being able to tell someone she's doing poorly , so she can take that time for herself but still have someone able to check up on her . her alone time looks like comfy pj's , her favourite takeout , wine , and trashy tv :-)

sweets : my boy is the OPPOSITE of all these people he LOVESSS to talk about it . however this often culminates in rumination and spirals with no real outcome , so self care for him is Doing Something to get all that energy out of his head . brennan takes him to a rage room one day and it is true catharsis for him

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Written In 2022 (2) Masterlist

part one

all of these small things (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: It’s Dan’s first day back from his American tour, and Phil can’t believe how much he’s missed him.

a party full of everyone you know (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: It has caught Dan off guard - how happy they all are that he's here, that he accepted that offhand suggestion Cornelia made that since Dan would still be in London and the girls from IRL were already going - well, she'd said, wouldn't it just make sense.

A Perfect Pair (ao3) - husbants

Summary: Dan, a struggling actor who works retail by day, and Phil, an ex-YouTuber-turned-porn-star, end up matched together on the new reality show, Perfect Pair.

broken bones heal when you set them right (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan goes to see his mum after his birthday.

Dan’s First Day (ao3) - Jinny12912

Summary: Dan wakes up late for his first day working as a lifeguard and doesn’t get the chance to use the bathroom before he’s on deck.

Decisions (ao3) - philsmeatylegss

Summary: Otherwise known as “I know we don’t know each other but my awful ex is here and I’m scared, please just pretend I’m your boyfriend.” And then more stuff happens that’s sweet

in a cosmic spray (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Dan likes to think that he’s got therapy down to a science, and yet sometimes he still finds himself here.

kiss me just to kiss me (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Phil knows it’s serious. He knows he’s serious about Dan in that way he gets about people because he is so painfully afraid of messing things up. Dan came all this way just to see him, but he didn’t come all this way just to see him, and the least Phil can do is show him a good time.

Looking After You (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: A few weeks before he's due to go on tour, Dan gets sick. Luckily, his boyfriend is there to help make him feel better, even when Dan doesn't make it easy for him.

Love, Becky (ao3) - husbants

Summary: At a We’re All Doomed pre-show Q&A, Dan gets a question about his old characters Becky and Jessica.

He has a dream about them. And sometimes dreams inspire in peculiar ways.

Momentary Bliss(x2) (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: The only thing that really helps Phil’s head is an orgasm. But. Phil is lazy.

Revolving Door (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: Phil really doesn’t want to think about what Dan said. He really would like to leave, and take this strangled feeling elsewhere. But he can’t stop listening to Dan’s song.

security! (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan comes home to Phil after tour rehearsals. They cook, kiss and banter. And Dan reflects on the word "security".

See The World, Watch It Spin (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: YouTube isn’t responding.

To Dwell on Dreams (ao3) - carltzmann

Summary: "Taking in the whole image, though, it hardly hurt. Watching this perfect version of himself smile and wave and talk to his friends, bathing in success and appreciation, Dan suddenly started to believe that maybe all that was possible, even with the confirmation of a terrifying secret."

Dan and Phil meet at the Mirror of Erised.

Vacation Buddies (ao3) - larryisrealaf

Summary: Both couples have broke up but the trip is non- refundable. Can it still work? Will the relationships suffer or will it work out?

We Could Never (ao3) - danielshands

Summary: Dan navigates the world while also contemplating coming out.

well, what if? (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: its two days before dan flies off to start the american leg of his tour and phil is having Some Feelings

we never change (ao3) - nivi_chip

Summary: different decade same laundry problems

won't you help me sober up (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan finds himself at a party that he most definitely shouldn't be at, but he also finds himself being reuniting with an old friend.

you’re somewhere breathing (ao3) - vvuptic

Summary: Guilt tastes like communion wine and cigarette smoke. Dan doesn’t taste it as much anymore. Until he does.

Or, Dan ponders existentialism and the passage of time.

[aikoiya]

What if Frisk was an adult and a therapist? 💖

What if Frisk is an Adult Therapist, that tricks any Monster that attacks Frisk into talking about their true feelings/problems?

1.

Papyrus: Wowie, I feel great getting all that off my chest! I don’t think I even need the therapy anymore! I’m gonna leave right now!

Frisk: So, same time next week?

Papyrus: …Okay.

2.

Frisk: Oh, I think these incidents is a better path than any other to the heart of your issues.

I think it’s possible that you and King Asgore have a very specific dynamic. I don’t think it’s one that teaches you proper self-control or discipline. I think it may even sometimes reward you whenever you get temperamental.

I think it’s possible that type of dynamic had spread to your other relationships, and your friends are probably afraid to call you out whenever you go too far, because it’s either gonna hurt your feelings or cause you to lose your temper on them.

Undyne: …Screw you.

Papyrus and Alphys: UNDYNE!

Undyne: Screw both of you, too.

3.

Mettaton: What? No, what kind of question is that?

Frisk: The kind that wasn’t designed to attack or hurt you in any way.

Mettaton: Oh, Jesus Christ, one of these…

4.

Frisk: It’s not my job to take sides or pass judgment. Do you think when your brother asks to go to Grillby’s again, you could ask him-

Papyrus: He won’t have to ask for my permission, okay?! He won’t need it! He’ll just do his own thing again, like always! He doesn’t need anything from anyone!

Frisk: You admire him for that.

Papyrus:…It’s better than making your problems other people’s problems.

5.

Papyrus: I am afraid… that people or my own brother won’t respect me… unless I’m popular.

Frisk: Great job. Alphys, you go.

Alphys: I am… mad, that I can’t watch kid shows without people assuming it’s because my life sucks… I hope to be seen one day as someone that just likes cartoons and anime.

Frisk: Excellent job. Undyne, do you have an “I” statement?

Undyne: …I am… I am sad that… I’m sad that my friends weren’t honest with me, about how I was sometimes scaring them. I want to be a better friend to them.

Frisk: Look at this team go! You guys are pros! What do you guys think about doing this once a week?

6.

Frisk: Sans, why did you lie to your brother?

Sans: So I wouldn’t have to come here.

Frisk: Why didn’t you want to come here?

Sans: Because I don’t respect therapy.

And I don’t think going to some agent of averageness that explains which words mean which feelings has ever helped anyone do anything.

I think it’s helped a lot of people get comfortable and stop panicking, which is a state of mind we value in the animals we eat, but not something I want for myself.

I’m not a cow. I’m a comedian. When I feel like it. So… you asked.

Frisk: Sans, you seem to alternate between viewing your own mind as an unstoppable force and as an inescapable curse. And I think it’s because the only truly unapproachable concept for you is that it’s your mind within your control. You chose to come here, you chose to talk -to belittle my vocation- just as you chose to become a comedian.

You are the master of your universe, and yet you are dripping with ketchup stains and grease. Your mind literally vegetating by your own hand.

I have no doubt that you would be bored senseless by therapy, the same way I’m bored when I brush my teeth and take a bath. Because the thing about repairing, maintaining, and cleaning is it’s not an adventure. There’s no way to do it so wrong you might die.

It’s just work. And the bottom line is, some people are okay going to work, and some people well, some people would rather die.

Each of us gets to choose…

7.Mettaton: Wow, that shrink, what a monologist.

Alphys: …Are we gonna go back?

Undyne: Jesus Christ… Therapists, man.

Sans: And yet people call me a weirdo.

Mettaton: We should get a drink.

Sans: Really? Like, go somewhere?

Mettaton: Yeah, let’s have a little party to celebrate surviving the shrink.

Undyne: Absolutely!

Papyrus: I… I liked Frisk.

Sans: So what are you guys thinking, like, the restaurant at the MTT Resort? Maybe Grillby’s?

Undyne: Yeah, either one. Either one.

What if Frisk’s therapy sessions somewhat helped fix Asgore’s and Toriel’s relationship?

Asgore: Wait! Uh… Toriel, th-there’s something that’s been eating me up for a really long time. We used to make such a great team, didn’t we? Until I screwed it all up.

Toriel: …

Asgore: If I hadn’t selfishly declared war on Humanity that day, we could’ve found a better way to break the barrier and the humans that came before Frisk didn’t have to die by my hands. I’m so sorry, Tori, for everything.

Toriel: …I’ll be honest. I did blame you in the heat of it, but Frisk has opened up my eyes and I’ve known better for a long time, now…

Because even though declaring war was still a stupid thing to do, it gave our people hope and if you hadn’t given them hope… well, then our kingdom would be much smaller today…

What happened to the other humans was as much my fault, as it was yours, because I did nothing to help them when they left the Ruins. I couldn’t help them or my kingdom. At least you stayed loyal to your people and kept them from falling apart… If anyone is the selfish one, it is me…

But I don’t want to be that selfish person anymore…

I want to be better and help you get better as well…

Asgore: Tori… Thank You…

As A Bonus: What if the UT Monsters felt genuine guilt over how they treated Frisk?

Undyne: Dude! You should get outta here before you get hurt!

Papyrus: NO! Every time terrible stuff happens, I run the other way! That is my dear friend! And Frisk is right to be angry because I didn’t protect them!

Alphys *tearing up*: You didn’t protect them from us!

Mettaton*crying*: They’re like this because of us!

Undyne *crying*: We're the source of Frisk’s suffering!

Toriel *crying*: This is my fault! *sobs loudly*

Asgore *crying*: Tori! Don’t be silly! Everyone knows that all of this is because of me!

Toriel: NO, it’s because of ME! I said that I would protect Frisk, but I did nothing to help them once they left the Ruins! I basically left them to die alone, just like I did with all the other humans!

Asgore *crying*: But that was because you didn’t want anything to do with me or the war, and all my war did was hurt Frisk! Like it hurt every human that ever came down here! *sobbing* This is all my fault!

Flowey: YES, IT IS!

(Flowey suddenly pops out from the ground.)

Flowey: Yes, we hurt Frisk, but this isn’t the time to make this all about us! That’s not helping! Maybe Frisk would care how sad you are because they always puts everyone else’s feelings first! But they can’t do that for you right now, because they needs us this time!

We all had Frisk when we needed them, but the only person who’s never had Frisk is Frisk! That kid's always been there for us, so, *sighs*…

How can we be there for Frisk now? 🌻

[jawritter]

Story time?

You guys know when I have a tough time dealing with things, certain things going on in my life, I write about it to vent it, and it works for me. Well, I need to vent for a minute. I’m not looking for sympathy or anything like that, I just need to get this out on paper to work through it. So, here I go. 

When I turned 18 years old, I went to school to get my CNA, and then immediately started working as a homebound caregiver, or as we call it down here in the south, a sitter, for the disabled and elderly. Basically, I come in and sit with them during the day and help them feed themselves, clean themselves, clean their homes for them… basically I do for them during the day what normal people would have done for themselves if they were able. I even go shopping for them/with them, if need be, and take them to doctor’s appointments as long as they are able to move around some on their own, and are not on hospice, (end of life ‘comfort’ care). 

When I got pregnant with my first child, I decided not to do it anymore, and just stay home with the kids until they were old enough to go to school instead of paying for childcare while my husband and I both work. Financially it just makes more sense for me to stay home. Also, while this job is not a nursing or doctor’s position, it’s stressful and emotionally taxing. When you sit with someone day in and day out, whether you want to or not, you get attached to these people, and when their lives are over, and they are no longer here, sometimes it seriously feels like you're losing your own family. 

Recently, and some of you may remember me talking about it a little, I started up again when both my girls went back to school. I like to take care of people, it’s just my calling, it’s what I do; no matter how hard it is. My first patient that I was sitting with made their transition from this life to the life here after (whatever that might be), and I took a few weeks break before I allowed myself to be assigned with another patient. 

This is where the part I’m struggling with comes in, so here we go…

Yesterday, I met my next patient. 

They told me his name was Austin. That he’d been disabled after an accident offshore, and that he now needed a sitter, seeing as he was a single male, who was currently unable to walk and take care of himself. (I’m paraphrasing obviously for privacy reasons and to make this understandable for people that do not work in this line of work.)

I’ve taken care of men before, that’s not something that’s bother me and never will. Still, there’s one thing that got to me when I read it in his chart, it’s the fact that he is only 43 years old. 

I’ve never had to take care of someone that young. Most of the time, when we step in, the patient is in the twilight stages of life so to speak. This guy, well, they warned me when they gave me the file, might be a patient of mine for a LONG time to come. 

The accident only happened less than three months ago, and he’s in physical therapy currently, (which is something I will have to take him to). But he can’t bathe, cook, or clean for himself at all currently. He only is mobile, basically above the waist for the time being, and with no immediate family that lives close by, if he wants to stay in his home, this is his only option. 

I met him for the first time yesterday. I go in today when the transport drops him back at his home from the nursing home (that’s where they had him for the beginning of his physical therapy after leaving the hospital), and that’s when my work begins. I sit with him Monday - Friday, 6:30 AM to 7 PM in the evenings. (Another CNA is scheduled for his night shifts and weekends unless we need to swap up for some personal reason). 

He’s so handsome, and young, and it’s not fair that his life has suddenly come to a screaming halt. It’s just not fair.

He’s still learning to cope with it too. He’s not really opened up to me yet, and that’s gonna be a challenge. He’s not happy with the situation he’s found himself in. (Who would be?) This might be the toughest thing I’ve worked on to date. 

I’m still gonna write, I’m still gonna be on here updating as much as I can. But please understand if updates come a little slowly at first, or if it takes me a little while to answer ask or something back. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just working, and I’ll be on as soon as I can. 

Okay, I’ll get off my pity party and get ready to go to work now, and if you made it this far in his too long vent session, thank you, you’re awesome! 

--Jen

[theladyofbloodshed]

I struggle with a similar situation with my partner where his low mood really impacts me and in constantly trying to keep up both happy which is draining… how do you cope with it? Do you have any advice?

I'll put this under a read more.

For us, I have to be quite blunt sometimes. We have a phrase "miserable blob". Sometimes I'm like baby are we going to be a miserable blob today or do something about that? I call him that because at weekends sometimes he will just sit there and stare at nothing or it takes him 30 mins to motivate himself to like make a drink. He hates being called that so it snaps him out of it a little bit, or he makes a conscious effort to try and snap himself out of it.

Sometimes I have to be tough and say get on with it, do x, y, z that you need to do then you can zone out.

For my partner, a lot of the issues come from the fact he doesn't like our flat (or England, hence the upcoming move) so some days I just need to get him out of the house. We go for a walk, go for a cup of tea, or visit my sister, just so we aren't in the house but then it's like a big, grey cloud is descending when we get close to home again. Some times, I nurture that depression and we will have a day watching films and cuddling up or we will try and talk about things.

When we first met, he started to experience panic attacks and he used to call me. I was quite firm that I cannot be his only support as the guilt I'd feel if I couldn't get to the phone and something happened would drown me. I made him go to the doctors despite him not wanting to. But I think you just have to be firm. In his country, mental health isn't really talked about and he would not let any of his family know. He eventually went on medication and hated it. It was a battle to get him to take his tablets and in the end he took himself off of them, which I wasn't happy with, but he knows his body best. I did make him tell his family too because I reiterated that I can't be the only one responsible for him, and that his family love him and would want to know about this. I think I used the analogy of a broken leg - nobody would expect you to walk on it and people would want to help you.

He did do online group therapy and hated it because every week was a battle to get him to log on, but after 2 suicide attempts I told him that I couldn't stay with him unless he went to therapy. I cannot be responsible for my mental health and his. He needs to take ownership of it. It was a hard conversation but I got through to him!

A lot of his stress came from owning his own business. When he quit that, it was even more stress because he literally went home for 2 weeks and was like okay i'm not doing it anymore, came back to England and had no job/income. He'd also invested all of his money into the business so he had a lot of feelings of failure. Now he works a 9-5 job he doesn't really enjoy but he isn't stressed about ensuring he gets an income every day, he is turning off his work brain at 5 rather than spending all evening on the phone calling customers and re-arranging his whole day to suit them, no weekends etc. Removing that stress has had a big impact because he could be very irritable and snappy with me then regretful of his behaviour.

We've had a lot of ups and downs due to his mental health and it is hard. I grew up with a mum who had depression and also made several suicide attempts, so it wasn't really anything new to me. I'm always calm in these situations and quite rational which I guess helps when my partner is having panic attacks. He'll tell me he can't see and his heart has stopped beating, and I'm like yes you can, it's in your head, you need to breathe in.

Sometimes I'll just say to him can you go for a long bath or a walk when I know he needs that to chill out - or if I need time away. We've been together long enough that I can say I'm going for a walk and if he asks to come too, I can say no I'd like to be alone and listen to music.

TLDR: be firm with your boundaries, be calm and rational, look after yourself too.

[nocturnal-phantoms-fandoms]

☕ on what your top 3 tropes are and why please! ♥️

Hello Rory!! :D

Judging solely by Hard Scientific Evidence (my ao3 bookmarks) - its Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting and Canon Divergence (if we ignore fanfic genres). Filtered to only HP fics its Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting and Canon Compliant.

Although considering two of them are regarding the canon/alternate setting and aren’t exactly tropes (and Im not sure i would say i agree with this data) - I was resorted to breaking down my two OTPs (wolfstar and stucky) into pieces ;)

So, lets see what we can find inside :D

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Or friends to lovers. Or strangers to friends to lovers. Any form of buddyslash, as it used to be called, as opposed to enemyslash. I am very much not an enemies to lovers person. Even in case of rivals to lovers ships im actually interested in them after they move into a more amicable territory.

So, friends to lovers is my fav type of ship dynamic, I believe.

Im not sure why? Maybe its got sth to do with me being maybe probably on the ace spectrum. Maybe I just think a good romance starts with friendship as opposed to bad romance that starts with rah rah-ah-ah-ah.

2. Separated by war and imprisonment and Reunited against all odds

This just screams soulmatism to me, and not in a “we are soulmates bc we fit so well together” (bc r/s dont) but in a “the chances of us finding each other again were so minuscule it must have been done consciously by the universe”. Its sometimes so crazy to me that this things happened canonically. The shack scene is absolutely crazy on its own (the forgave each other 12 years of pain in one conversation) and then Sirius and Remus go live together for like a year. The whole Winter Soldier movie is, again, bonkers, when you have shipping goggles on (and even if you dont, the romance isnt in the subtext, its in the text)

I was surprised I was into exes to lovers in modern/no magic aus, but yeah its canon for r/s so it makes sense. Something something second chances something something love conquers all something something they were meant to be something something soulmates.

3. Recovering after years of torture prison

hurt/Comfort my beloved.

This trope fits fill-in-the-blanks type of canon-compliant fics for r/s and canon-divergent fix-its fics for s/b.

In case of wolfstar this is Lie Low at Lupin’s. Absolute banger. *slaps hood* This bad boy can fit so many smaller tropes. Bed sharing. Bath sharing. Helping wash/cut hair. Comforting after a nightmare. Communicating and talking and settings things straight after years of lost time. Yeah. Cannot go wrong with this one. (and I can pretend they stay in this intimate serene bubble and nothing bad ever happens to them bc im delusional)

In case of stucky its all types of post-WS or post-CW fix-its where Bucky finally gets some fucking treatment and therapy (and actual therapy, not this piss-poor excuse for a therapist from TFATWS).

In both cases there is also an interesting switch in the dynamic that im not sure i can put into right words. Just, the one that used to stand up for the other, take care of them, was more confident and outgoing, now is the one being taken care of bc they went through hell and were on a run from the government for 2 years. And the one taking care of them is doing only slightly better, had a bit more time to adjust, but still, is quite traumatized as well.

Cinematic parallels or sth idk.

***

However, i mostly read fluff so there are many fluffy tropes i could mention but i couldn’t pick my top 3 (Sirius raising Harry and getting together with Remus. Domestic bliss. Established relationships with marriage proposals. Raising kids together. Post-full-moon sick fics (that one is technically h/c). Holidays spend with loving families. etc) I eat that shit up

send me a ☕️ and a topic and i’ll talk about how i feel about it

[sweeethinny]

Hinny Fest - Day 13

Talking about the War - day thirteen

it was the most different way I thought of writing Hope you like it i love domestic hinny

@hinnyfest

''Today Wendell and I talked about the war,'' Ginny said.

Harry was washing the floor after taking a bath in Sir, their dog, who had been playing in the mud along with the children who were already taking an afternoon nap, while Ginny finished folding the clothes Harry had washed in the morning.

The sun was strong, they would have a family dinner at night and they wanted to be able to enjoy their yard, so they were trying to keep everything there clean and organised, cleaning the tables and chairs that were there, washing the floors, cutting the grass that Ginny had promised she'd cut it two weeks ago, taking care of the clothes they'd let pile up because of the rain and laziness...

Harry looked at her, holding the hose that was on as he pointed at the soapy floor. ''How it was?''

''He said I might need to see a psychiatrist,'' She kept looking at the pile of clothes, which was getting bigger by the second. ''He said we're still going to have one more appointment before he really says if I need it or not, we're going to talk more about it and my insomnia, but that's probably going to happen... He wants me to be prepared and comfortable with it. I said that I would talk to you.''

''Do you agree with him?'' Harry had already been to a psychiatrist, in his first year of therapy after a hellish sequence of panic attacks that kept him from going to work, and when that happened, Ginny was there with him, in the waiting room, holding his shaking hand until Harry was called.

He would do the same without a second thought for her, of course.

''Yes,'' She looked at him, smiling a little sadly. ''You've seen how things have gotten worse, don't say no,'' Harry shrugged, not knowing how to respond. ''I told him about the time James wanted to buy a diary and I... freaked out,'' Ginny looked away again, going back to folding her clothes. Harry turned off the hose, leaving the squeegee for a second and going to his wife, even with his wet and cold hands, hugging her.

''We're in this together,'' Harry kissed her forehead, thinking of all the times she'd been the one who'd taken care of him, calmed him down during a crisis, made sure he didn't freak out and go crazy. ''We all love you so much.''

''It was nice to talk you know?'' He felt her tears wetting his shirt, her choked voice made his heart fail. ''It was nice to get it all out, but at the same time it was so sad,'' Ginny sobbed. ''I told him that I felt almost a rage that we had been robbed of our adolescence. That I saw Teddy and Vic living like they should, having problems their age, and I was annoyed because I wish we'd had the opportunity to one day worry only about the fact that our parents wouldn't let us put a piercing or some school gossip.''

''I know,'' This was one of the subjects that Harry thought he and Ginny managed to share the pain almost equally. Still different, of course, but still similar. “I feel that way sometimes too.”

''Wendell said the right medicine will help me sleep and continue with the treatment,'' She looked at him, a few tears still streaming down her face. "Do you promise that even if I go crazy, you'll still love me?" Ginny pouted, all adorable and cute, softening Harry's heart and forcing him to kiss her, squeezing his arms even tighter around her. 

“Forever and ever.” He promised. ''Even if we both freak out and need a straitjacket.''