#struggling to force myself to care about anything for more than a few hours

[galpalaven]

i think the fact that veilguard removed all interest in anything for me is insane. i dont even want to play final fantasy. do you know how fucking messed up i have to be to not have the energy or will to sit at my desk and be mentally ill about final fantasy??

ive never had finishing a game give me idk. sub/dom drop after finishing it to the point that i lose all interest in creative or fun things in general. its absolutely wild in the worst possible way

[sanjisleggy]

let your husband help you (red-haired shanks x reader)

req: [...] with a fem!reader (if possible) that has wings and sometimes the wings with feathers require molting and there are areas that cannot be reached closer to the back and requires help to remove the loose feathers

a/n: (i am playing valorant as i write this help) ty for the request anon! :D the enthusiasm is very endearing ;;0;; hope you enjoy reading! also man i love writing for Shanks :3c

contents: a bit of angst (fem!reader is having a hard time), descriptions of itchiness and pain, comfort, fluff :D, a tad bit suggestive bc it’s Shanks

wc. 1.2k

wanna be on my taglist?

i.

these past few weeks have been torture. today especially so.

alone in your bedroom aboard the Red Force you writhe in itchiness and pain as your back aches in a way it hasn’t in a long time. lying face-down on your bed, you feel your wings twitch and tremble as you contort your arms to reach behind you as far as humanly possible; only to groan in defeat when the most you can do is brush the offending feathers with your fingertips.

for days now a small part of your brain has been nagging at you to go get Shanks for the sake of your poor back and wings but you’ve heard from your crewmates how busy he’s been so you’ve pushed the urge aside. now, though, the idea has forced its way to the forefront of your mind out of desperation, no doubt.

holding back a sob of frustration that threatens to make its way out of your throat, you nuzzle your face into your husband’s pillow, hoping that his scent can serve as a distraction of some kind. more than anything though, it simply acts as a poor placeholder for the real thing and only makes your aching heart (and wings) yearn for him even more.

“c’mon, (Y/N), don’t be shy,” his gentle voice called from outside the utility closet in which you’d chosen to hide–away from him. you felt your face heat up at Shanks’ persistence to help with something he wasn’t even totally aware of; he just knew you were in pain so he had to help.

“it’s okay, i can deal with it myself,” you lied, wincing when one of your wings brushed against a shelf behind you. most of the molting feathers had already been dealt with but your wings had grown a lot since the last time you molted and now they were far too big for your hands to reach. “just leave me alone.”

“if you don’t tell me what’s up, i’ll tell Rayleigh.”

“no!” you protested instantly. as much as you trusted the first mate of your crew with your life, this was far too embarrassing to get him involved. “if you tell anyone i’ll leave the crew, you asshole.”

you had meant it only as a false threat but the sudden silence told you Shanks took it a bit more seriously than you thought he would.

“okay, fine,” he replied and you could hear the pout on his face. “i just wanna help. there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. you know you can trust me to take care of you.”

a particularly sharp pain shoots through your spine from your right wing and the whine of discomfort slips past your lips before you can help yourself. too far gone to care about anyone hearing from outside your quarters, you let yourself sob aloud, the relief from crying doing little to ease your discomfort. 

the immense helplessness of your situation makes you realise how pampered you’ve been all these years. how lucky you are to have had such a loving friend-turned-lover who always took it upon himself to care for you. now here you are: alone in your bedroom, struggling with a task that you long should’ve learned how to deal with yourself.

you nearly give in to the urge to seek out the one person you trust to alleviate your pain but at this point, you’re too tired to even get off the bed. maybe it’s for the best, you wonder to yourself. your eyes flutter closed as you pull Shanks’ pillow a bit closer and bury your face deeper into it as you allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by your exhaustion, hoping that at least you can sleep away the next few hours of aches and itching.

ii.

letting out a sigh of relief, the one-armed Emperor takes his time returning to his ship after a grueling few weeks of settling disputes between several smaller pirate crews. normally such tasks would never take this long–hell, most of the time he didn’t even have to step in–but civilians’ lives were at stake so he had no choice.

now, as Shanks nears the dock and sees the Red Force coming into view, all he can think about is taking a nap with you. not only have his duties kept him away from you all day every day, he’d also been going to bed at ungodly hours, crawling under the sheets beside you long after you’ve fallen asleep. though he can’t wait to spend some quality time with you, he wants nothing more than to rest by your side with the knowledge that he’ll finally be able to wake up after you for once.

“hey Captain,” Benn calls out from aboard the deck once Shanks reaches speaking-distance. “i think (Y/N) needs your help.”

“see, what’d i say?” you could practically hear him smiling as he sat behind you, tenderly plucking out the final few loose feathers. “there’s no need to be shy around me.” Shanks tugged at a particularly stubborn feather and when it finally came loose, you couldn’t help the moan of relief that came out of your mouth.

you felt your cheeks rapidly heat up in shame as you buried your face in your hands, fully prepared for the boy to make fun of you. but it never came. instead, Shanks stayed quiet as he soothed the particular spot of skin with his fingers in a manner so tender you couldn’t believe it was him.

“there, all done,” he said. you were grateful but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around and face him even though you knew you had to in order to thank him properly. 

as though sensing your dilemma, Shanks leaned forward to press his lips against your shoulder blade, right above where your wings sprouted from your back. it sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps appeared all over but you didn’t tell him to stop, if anything, you wanted him to continue.

you’re ripped out abruptly from your dream when the door of your quarters slams shut. from your face-down position in bed, you’re unable to see who it is but only one person in this world would be brave enough to make such an entrance.

“welcome back,” you groan, using your arms to push the upper half of your body off the mattress as you turn your head to glance over your shoulder.

“why didn’t you call for me?” your husband responds, tossing his cape onto the floor before rushing over to guide you back down into a resting position. Shanks pulls over two other more pillows and places them in a way he knows, from years of experience, makes you the most comfortable. “how long have your wings been molting?” 

there’s a slight hint of frustration in his voice but you know it’s not directed at you. it doesn’t make you feel any less guilty, though.

“it started… two weeks ago…” you mumble into Shanks’ pillow.

“you–” he cuts himself off with a deep sigh before he says anything impulsive. the Emperor understands you just didn’t want to disrupt his work and he appreciates the sentiment greatly, he’d just hoped that after all these years of marriage, you’d know how he’d do quite literally anything for you. this, he decides as his eyes scan your twitching wings and tangled feathers, is a conversation for another day though.

“poor thing,” Shanks coos instead, leaning down to press kisses all over the back of your neck and around your shoulder blades as he runs his hand down your side. you can feel his lips smile against your skin when your body shivers in response. “you must’ve been in so much pain, hmm? let your husband help you out.” 

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui

[byoldervine]

Motivation For Writing

Getting Off Your Butt:

1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way

2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing

3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft

Maintaining Motivation:

1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept

2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done

3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on

Afterwards:

1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe

2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it

3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point

[dn-838]

My last post on the subject

(TW for themes of mental illness, institutional bigotry and suicide)

Alright, so I know everyone is waiting for me to post images to prove I look similar to the killer… however, I found that for the most part, I didn’t… now before anyone gets too angry, this isn’t a scam (22s TikTok still needs to be taken down please someone shut that asshat using my name for money down), nor is it trying to play Spartacus or force attention, truth is, I genuinely believed I did it, I have a history of Mental illness and had actually convinced myself I was the Adjuster. I felt genuine shock when I compared the images and realised I didn’t look like him. Despite this… I’ve still gotten all this attention, and before I leave for whatever, I’ll use this opportunity to explain some things that are true, for both those of you in the UK and out.

The NHS is a complete dumpster fire, because of institutional failures, bureaucracy and privatisation, this is widely known. What’s less known is just how bad it is, 1 in 6 people in the country have to rely on Privatised healthcare due to problems such as long wait times, with those waiting lists taking as long as literal years to pass. I for one have been treated with constant failure from their services ever since I was born, with bi-weekly antidepressants that they rarely effectively prescribe as well as very poor treatment by existing mental health services, and as of now I have frequent breakdowns and delusions. The thing is, as an autistic individual I’ve been somewhat lucky despite this, the NHS has had recorded cases in recent history of sending autistic individuals to extremely severe psychiatric wards, and for a short time during COVID they set a policy where if hospitals became full the life support of autistic people SPECIFICALLY would be cut to make more room. Just knowing these took a toll on me, now, I started to go completely off the rails last July, admittedly while I knew things were as bad as the previous things said, a thing I were never aware of before then was of the situation surrounding Gender-Affirming care, it appears it takes up to 14 years to start anything in certain parts of the country, with conversion therapy still being funded and in rare circumstances used instead. By this point in time I had just broken contact temporarily with Charlotte (the woman from my original “confession”) and had effectively had a panic attack, she helped me through a lot of personal problems and so I valued her safety and happiness more than anything and was already concerned for her on the social factor, so when this was found out within a day of her breaking, I had no idea how to react, I couldn’t tell if she knew or didn’t so should be told to try and set things up or look to private as soon as possible, if she was going to leave so I wouldn’t be able to meet her, as far as I knew by that point she was potentially going through constant body horror and never actually as happy as she seemed outside when talking, I attempted to take my own life within only a few hours of learning this, barely two days after the break in contact started, this on top of my favourite Author (Neil Gaiman) being outed as a fucking Monster and the fact it was over a miscommunication that happened the first week that I finally became convinced I can have stable relationships after years of struggling all led to me completely losing whatever little sanity I had left. She did come back however left again a month later after it became clear just how much I’d regressed (although while she did know what caused the problems in July she didn’t know about the suicide attempt or have the context to know just how badly it would have effected my health). Since then I have been meeting with therapists and went back to the medical dosages I had three years prior occasionally, but still have a lot of problems. I believe having an honest conversation with her could help but… her boundaries are set, I doubt she’s coming back (if you harass or pressure her on this I hold zero respect for you).

So, why am I here giving my sob story? Well two reasons… 1. To explain why I’ve been claiming to be the Adjuster and give context to my story, and 2…

To show that the problem isn’t purely private healthcare

Yes, Private Healthcare is a big problem, but even when eliminated major universal health institutions as they are have deeply embedded problems. This isn’t just a problem with specific Conservative policies or specifically the NHS, even far more progressive are Socialist leaning countries like Denmark and New Zealand have some of the exact same problems, the UK is currently run by a party that’s arguably much more progressive and IS more left-wing than the Democrats in the USA, but under their leadership the existing problems with private sectors, waiting times and issues around healthcare for the disabled and Trans people are getting worse then they were under an actual Conservative leadership. Fact is making sure health is universal isn’t enough, it may appear widely available but still the way they are typically run is still VERY much oligarchic. Some systems are better than others sure, but that “better” is typically very temporary. The DHSC and NHS Managers are just as big monsters as Brian Thompson was, the Finnish MSAF are downright sadistic. For anything to actually get better for everyone in terms of Healthcare, the economy and government structure as a whole needs to be fundamentally altered.

One last thing, if you doubt I’m a real human, I have a lot of old stuff on BlueSky as well as posts on here going as far back as 2022, as well as dead Reddit and Twitters. Be sure to check out the channel “Devils Advocate” on TikTok and YouTube who made a fairly interesting analysis on my “confession” as well as Renegade For Justice (assuming you aren’t here from her). Also there’s this game called “The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante” made by some Indie Russian team and it’s probably one of the greatest games ever made, considering my attention I’mma just give it some publicity.

[artists-ally]

Hi! I love your writing and I just wanted to ask if you could make a fic about Azriel and a chronically ill reader? I have Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, and it can be really difficult sometimes. I’m currently in a flare-up and I would love to see what Azriel would be like if he had a partner with a chronic illness 🩵 please and thank you!

{The Fixer} Reader x Azriel

Hi my love!!! While I myself do not know what it's like to live with a chronic illness, my mom has chronic migraines and I was always the one taking care of her. I hope you enjoy and are taking as best care of yourself as you can through this flare-up my love <3 Title and story inspired by this song.

Word Count: 2,193

Warnings: struggles of chronic illness, headaches, vomiting, fluff

Tagging: @cyrygher @thelov3lybookworm @librafairy @blessthepizzaman @needylilgal022 @bubybubsters @harrystylesfan2686 @justdreamstars

Summary: Azriel notices. Even when you try to hide it from him. There is nothing he hates more than seeing you in pain, and it's his mission to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~

Whether it was the dots spreading across my vision or the ache set deep in every bone in my body, I knew I was off. Short of the normal dizziness and weakness I had, I felt like shit.

I rolled over in bed to find Az gone, and I sighed. Getting to the bathroom was going to be tough. Half an hour went by before I could fully open my eyes and not see the world spinning before. 

The snow was blinding across Velaris, burning my eyes and making me jerk my neck too hard in the opposite direction. Much like my hips and ankles, the joints in my neck screamed for relief. Just a few steps away was the bathroom. If I could get there, to the cabinet above the sink I could get my-

My sweater pocket caught the post on the bed and I got yanked to the floor. Landing shoulders first, pins and needles raced up and down my left arm. Fingers numb. With more than a groan, I rolled off of it and found a new ache in… well, everywhere. 

It took a long time to roll on my hands and knees, but I did it, and now I was on the cold tile. It did wonders for the radiating heat in my freshly injured palms, but it chilled it to the marrow of my bones. 

As much as I wanted to, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand. The pounding of my head and the rolling of my stomach was enough to force me to sit against the wall opposite the toilet. 

I pulled my head back and tried to breathe. 

Those life changing blue pills that Madja gave me would be useless now. They could only prevent a flare-up if caught at the earliest signs. I’ve been able to catch the past few, but I wasn’t expecting this one. 

Azriel was right when he told me to take it easy during training yesterday. All I wanted to do was prove to him that I could keep up. I knew I couldn't, and so did he, but that wasn’t the point. He shouldn’t just assume I can’t because I’m sick. 

Yet here I am, paying for it on the bathroom floor. 

I could feel the circulatory pattern of my pulse. A never ending cycle of pain. Starting in my head, down my neck and in my teeth. To my shoulder, numbness down my arm and tingling in my finger. The surge of agony in my hip, through my leg and in my knee. Gods my ankle, what did I do to my ankle?

A quick check under my sock and I could see the culprit. A huge bruise accompanied by an abundance of swelling. I must’ve kicked the post in the night again. Or it could’ve been from sparring, or our sprint up the stairs.

I gave up trying to keep tabs on all my possible reasons and focused on the fact that I was all alone in the House of Wind. Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta were all away in Illyria for the day to train a group of new recruits. Nuala and Cerridwen were here, but I always feel weird asking them for help. 

I can make it to the evening. I’ll get up and I’ll take that pill, even if it will only decrease the length not the strength of this flare-up. Anything. I’ll do anything to get it over quicker so I’ll be back to normal. 

On the count of three, I’ll get up. I’ll push with the strength I’ve built up from training with Az. I’ll push myself up and grab the pill and go back to bed. 

One.

Two.

Three.

My arms do nothing but scream in pain, and my legs lose feeling. I go nowhere but back on my ass. I try again, after another count of three. Nothing. Holding my breath while doing it only makes the dizziness worse. And the nausea. 

I drag myself over to the toilet and empty whatever is left in my stomach. It’s not much, and it burns on the way up. Tears fill my eyes and mucus fills my nose and throat. I know when pain and headaches get so bad you vomit, the episode is going to be particularly brutal. 

My skin is damp and I start to shake. Water. I need water. 

I flush and manage to make it on the toilet. I turn on the sink with some blind movement and I’m greeted with the lovely sound of water. I can’t lift my left arm any more and I think it might be out of socket. I can’t tell. Doesn’t matter. I scoop some water into my mouth, but most of it makes it down my shirt instead. 

I let it run and run and run, letting the cool liquid calm my swimming head. 

At some point I laid my head down and didn’t pick it back up. I stayed in this awful state of micro sleep, sometimes drifting off, sometimes thinking I’m dreaming but I’m just letting my mind wander. The bright morning sun turned into the dull brightness of the afternoon. I think. 

My heart beat loudly in my ears. Then it would stop, and then it would start again. My pulse was taunting me. It must be. It sounded like Azriel’s wings which only made me miss him more. The memory of his scent blasted through me and the tears started. 

I want him so bad. I need him.

“Shhh, it’s okay, just breathe, Yn.”

My eyes snapped open, and through a blurry mess of tears, Azriel kneeled in front of me. “W-What are you doing here?”

“The second you woke up I could feel your pain,” his thumb slid across my cheek. “I turned around when I realized why. You need help.”

I shook my head, or tried to. It just sorta rolled back and forth. 

“Squeeze my fingers, Yn.” Azriel placed two of his digits in my palms and I squeezed as hard as I could. Not even the tips of his fingers turned red from the pressure. “Are you going to let me help you or are you going to be difficult?”

“I don't want to be difficult. I’m in so much pain.”

“I know, my shadow. I know.”

As gently as he could, he sat me up and carried me to the bed. He took off his armor somewhere along the way, the bony ridges of the scales not digging into me like they normally do. I was eternally grateful for the small detail he remembered. 

Even our mattress hurt just as much as the floor. 

“I need to take a look at you. Where are you hurting the most? Did you fall?”

I nodded deliriously, “My ankle’s a mess. And so is my shoulder. M’arms numb.”

As carefully as he could, he propped me against him and peaked around. I didn’t hear him make any gasps, but I could feel that pull on the bond that meant he didn’t like what he saw.

“How bad?”

“Bad enough for me to call Madja. She’s on her way. I told you to take it easy-”

“Don’t.”

Azriel completely disregarded whatever he was going to say next. “I’m sorry.”

“Just get me the pill, please,” I faulty gestured to the bathroom. He didn’t even move, but then a pill and a cup of water was pressed into my lips. Those shadows of his are so helpful. 

“I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I just don’t like seeing you in pain. It makes me… it makes me wild.”

“I appreciate it, I do Az, but you can’t protect me from everything. And I don’t want you to. There's a reason why I wanted to train with you in the first place.”

“I know, but there's no need to exert yourself to this just to prove a point. I know how tough you are, Yn. You are the strongest, most resilient soul I’ve ever met. But making yourself like this in spite of me is something I never want you doing.”

I smiled, cheeks heating up as I leaned against his chest. His body radiated heat like a roaring fire, and I soaked up every morsel of it. 

With enough pillows and heat packs, I was propped up against the headboard. Soon after, Madja and Nuala came in. I could smell the fresh bread and juice from across the room and my stomach growled. 

“It’s cheese bread with a nice tomato and herb soup. Azriel requested the sweet tea just for you.”

I smiled up at him, my eyes suddenly heavy with love and adoration for my Shadowsinger. 

I ate as Madja poked and prodded. Az held my hand and kissed the tears away when she had to reset my shoulder. By this point, my body was in so much pain that I couldn’t think of anything else. The healer was kind enough to give a sedative and an injection that did something. 

“She’ll be asleep soon,” Madja said across the room to Azriel. “When she wakes, send for me again and I will bring one that doesn’t make her drowsy. Do not let her out of that bed unless she is in your arms, Shadowsinger.”

“Thank you, Madja.” And the door shut. Once again, the bed dipped and he trailed a gentle hand up my legs. “Just go to sleep, my shadow.”

“I hope you know that shot will do nothing, Az.”

“I thought they were working?” He asked, puzzled. 

I shook my head, “I thought so too, but they’re not. There isn't anything you can do to ease the pain, Az. No amount of pills or injections or stimulation therapy will do the trick. I just have to wait it out.”

“So you rest until it passes,” Az climbed in beside me. “I will be here when you wake up.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” I hissed, frustrated tears spilling down my face. “I want to train and go to dinner and drink red wine and dance like the rest of you.”

I couldn't bear to look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the sadness in his eyes. After a long silent moment, he took a deep breath. 

“It’s okay if you need rest. You’re not expected to work or thrive in the condition you’re in. I could tell last night you weren’t feeling good.”

That made me perk up. “How?”

“You get this hazy, far away look. That's how I know you’re in pain.” Azriel muttered, snuggling in close so I could latch on for warmth. “Let me take care of you. Don’t focus on anything other than healing and my warmth. I will be here when you wake up.”

I didn’t care to read into how much he read into me. My heart blazed with thoughts, all of him and those offhanded looks and questions he always asks. He is such an observer.

“I’m the spy for the Night Court, my shadow. Of course I’m observant. I notice everything about you. What makes you smile, what doesn’t. The foods and drinks that give you headaches and swelling. When your flare-ups are coming and when they’re finally withdrawing. I make it my mission to make sure you are as safe and comfortable as possible. I am sorry I wasn't there to help you this morning, love.”

“I felt fine last night, no need to say sorry.” I kissed his cheek, then he kissed my lips. “Thank you for turning around.”

“Cassian thought I had been shot with an arrow with how hard I dove down to the ground to turn around. I felt this rush of pain from you and I thought for a second it was my own. But don’t feel bad. I want to be here anyway. You’re much better than any of those awful camps.”

“I’m a lot better,” I smiled, nuzzling into his chest.

The glint in his voice was enough to make me swoon, “Yes, my shadow. Everything about you is better than those camps.”

-------

Through the rest of the day, Az laid with me, running hands through my hair, massaging my legs when they cramped up. He got me water, food and snacks. Kept the entertainment up when I was in too much pain to nap. All through the night, Azriel held me steady so I wouldn’t accidentally roll around. 

Madja came in the morning with more useless injections, Nuala with a stack of chocolate chip pancakes and fresh bacon. 

I made Az eat some because I didn’t see him steal a crumb earlier. 

Later, he took me into the bath where he scrubbed my scalp, massaging my temples. I tried to do the same for his back and wings, but he refused to let me move. Just sat me in his lap, chest pressed against my back and let us soak for hours. 

As we got out, he sat me on the bed while he gathered clothes for us. Per my request, he kept his shirt off and just through on a set of lounging sweats.

One foot at a time, he put me in the comfiest pair of pants I had. The fleece lined inside keeping out the cold. He put thick socks on my feet and found something to wrap around my top half so I didn't have to move my arm.

We laid back down, me tucked in his arms. I absently stroked the back of his scarred hand.

I was calm. The ache is still present, but ignorable with a few of his stories. I drifted to sleep, in the safest place in Prythian.

"Thank you, Az," I murmured, sleep evident now

He kissed me softly, "Anything for you, my shadow."

~~~~~~

[mvltisstuff]

Evan Buckley & female reader - reader ends up collapsing in her home and there is a building fire where she lives and due to this she ends up in hospital severely injured due to hitting her head after collapsing; buck finds her barely breathing and panics, he tries saving her and ends up being there for her on the way to the hospital.

so much angst, fluff.

🤍🩶

fallen - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from pinterest i don’t own it

a/n: warning for talk about anxiety medications, i wanted to include this as it’s something i’ve struggled with myself, hope you enjoy <3

y/n hadn’t told buck about her new medications she’s been taking to combat everything in her life. she almost felt embarrassed to say that she had to take meds to battle her anxiety. she thought she could do it on her own, and maybe she could eventually, but she needed help for now. buck was the toughest guy she had ever been with, the most loving and caring boyfriend. he was an ideal lover to have, and she cherished him. however, she was still scared he would be disappointed in her. she didn’t want him to think less of her now.

all medication comes with side effects, but y/n never really thought anything of it. the drowsiness, the dizziness, was all something she thought of as temporary. so, she continued pushing through it at home and at work. she felt like she had a lot to do, and couldn’t waste any time with worrying more about herself. she practiced other methods of calming her anxiety as well because the brain needs more than a few chemicals.

she’d been at home one night alone, buck was supposed to come over when he got off his 24-hour shift. he’d be tired, and she would be there with open arms for him to be held in. she was standing in her kitchen, trying to distract herself from the effects of the new medicine she was taking. she was wobbly and fatigued, but she finished up everything she was supposed to finish. distractions never work, as it couldn’t have prevented her from the black and white sparkles in her eyes that formed from her exhaustion.

“118, this is dispatch requesting an additional unit to 723 spring hill boulevard,” the staticky voice came through bobby’s radio. the team had already been on their way back after another call, but another duty called. bucks heart paused as he heard the address come through. he knew it all too well, being there almost all the time.

“wait, what? did they say spring hill?” he panics.

“yeah, why?” hen questions.

“isn’t that-“

“y/n’s apartment building,” buck speaks, trying to mentally prepare himself for anything the world might throw his way.

bucks been through a lot, from childhood to working with the LAFD. nothing compares to the fear he’s feeling as he sees the thick clouds of smoke and flame rise out of the building.

“buck, eddie, get in there and line those hoses up, hen, chim, start evacuating as many people as you can and anyone who needs medical attention, bring them to the white tent,” bobby demands, pulling out bags and supplies of gear out as buck grabs a hose and sprints into the burning building.

her body felt frozen, like she couldn’t move. the alarms had been going off, but they somehow sounded distant and foggy in her mind. y/n lay on the floor, feeling a throbbing pain in her head as she saw the rusty red liquid on the floor around her. she wanted so badly to get up, but the impact her head made with the surface made it near impossible.

buck had done his job, watching other firefighters with their hoses to take down the embers that were consuming the building. he didn’t care if she’d been evacuated already, he forced himself to make sure she was ok. he rapidly piled up the stairs and kicked her door open, only to be confronted with eerie darkness and smoke. “y/n?” he yelled. “y/n!”

he gazed around the room, searching for any signs of her she could, because the floor seemed untouched. “y/n! are you in here?”

he thought he was hallucinating when he saw her shoes in the corner of his eye, connected to her legs on the floor. he bolted over, making contact with her unconscious body on the floor. he wanted to be dreaming, he wanted a fucked up nightmare in his mind, but it was nothing but reality.

she was surrounded by blood, too much to be safe. the corner of her kitchen island had small patches of blood on it, a few of her belongings had fallen next to her. she was slumped on her side, and buck was alarmed at the lack of movement from her chest. “y/n! oh my god,” he flipped her over to see a huge gash on her head, warm blood seeping out. she bashed her head hard on the counter, and he figured she was knocked out cold from the impact.

his fingers landed on the side of her neck, flicking her soft locks out of the way. her pulse was thready, almost nonexistent. he slipped her into his arms, shuffling down the stairs and out of the building when he was confronted with the rest of his coworkers. “guys! hey!”

“buck!” chim runs over with a stretcher, placing her on. “what the hell happened?”

“she hit her head, she must’ve passed out and probably has smoke inhalation,” he says, breathless as he watches hen connect a portable machine to her. chimney climbed up, not hesitating to perform CPR on her frail body. buck watched in horror, tears in his eyes and shaking hands. he climbed into the ambulance with her, gripping her unresponsive hand. the whole ride to the hospital was filled with chaos in his brain, frantically awaiting the moment where she would be saved. her gentle eyes flutter open, squinting at the fast shakes of the aid car. she was connected to several different tubes and wires, she looks around, desperately trying to land on buck, knowing he’d be there.

“hey, y/n,” he speaks over the deafening sirens above them. “it’s ok, you fell and hit your head, but you’re gonna be ok, baby, i swear.”

she peels the oxygen mask off her face. “i-i’m sorry, buck.”

“for what? you don’t have to be sorry for anything.”

“i tried to ignore it, i was so embarrassed for you to find out,” she peeps out, leaving a confused man sitting beside her.

“what? what do you mean?” the ambulance comes to a stop, the back doors are pulled open and her stretcher is wheeled out. her eyes are starting to droop again, the tiredness beginning to take over again as buck watches them take her away from his hold. he just wants to be with her, to hold her hand, and maybe even for someone to hold his.

y/n underwent several tests and scans for a brain injury, but nothing seemed as bad as it looked. the blood on the floor was permanently engraved in bucks head, not being able to shake the sight. the thought of walking in on the love of his life dead, not being able to be saved, stung his heart. thankfully, her tests came back clean, showing a near healthy brain containing a severe concussion from the impact.

buck sat beside her on the bed, ash on his skin and in his messy hair. he was afraid to even touch her, looking at her sleeping figure with a piece of gauze around her head. earlier, he wanted nothing but to hold her, but he was petrified of hurting her even more. flashes of her limp body in his arms and her dangling arms were like a tv screen in front of his eyes. his heart beat for her, even when hers couldn’t handle the pressure.

her room was dim, the lights turned low to prevent any more discomfort to her head. the only sounds that were heard was the light inhales from y/n, and the murmuring of nurses outside.

buck had been told it was her new medicine that caused her to faint. it clicked in his mind that that was what she felt the need to apologize for. even more puzzlement flew through his thoughts. no one ever needs to feel bad that they need help. not everyone has the means in them do to it alone, and that’s ok. he knew she struggled with anxiety, but he wanted to be able to help her if she was having such a hard time. he wants to be there for her.

her head was pounding when her eyes opened softly. the dimmed room wasn’t enough, almost any sight causing an extreme ache. her vision cleared, and she slowly but madly darted her eyes around the room. they instantly landed on her boyfriends, feeling immediate relief he was there. she’d been so alone the last few weeks, and him being there made it feel like the entire earth was on her side. she moved her fingers in a desire that his hand would be in his, but it was empty. his elbows were on his knees and his eyes were red and bothered.

“hey,” he said after noticing her disturbed expression. “you’re ok, you just hit your head. your building caught on fire, but everyone’s ok.”

she mumbled a few words that were inaudible, before clearing her head and trying again. “i remember you found me.”

“always, i’ll always find you.”

“buck, i’m s-“

“no, listen,” he begins. “do not ever try and apologize for something that’s not your fault. i know you’re taking medicine, but that doesn’t make me love you any less. you are the strongest person i have ever known, and you’ll stay that way for the rest of our lives. my heart has your name written all over it, y/n.”

“i love you, buck,” she replies in a hushed tone. “more than anything.”

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭— 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐅

Note: Check Description and other chapters first to understand the story ^^♡

Chapter 14

Bang Chan

There's some stupid article or whatever on the internet that says your partner's DNA stays on your mouth for an hour after kissing. If that's actually true, Aria's essence, taste, DNA, everything will be on me not for an hour but for the rest of my life.

"What were you talking with him that made you laugh so much?"

"Not anything you need to know"

"You think this is funny?"

"I think you're overreacting. Just because I was talking to someone other than you."

I have never lost it with my friends since the beginning of knowing them even though we give each other shit. But if I catch Aria with Hyunjin again smiling and laughing like that- I will definitely lose my fucking mind.

What the hell is wrong with me?

We had an agreement, a god damn contract, and now I'm acting like some jealous asshole because my wife was getting along with another man- my best friend, for crying out loud.

The thought should terrify me, but instead, it makes me want her more. It makes me want to hold on to this feeling, to her, even tighter.

"Everything is prepared and set for launch in a few months," Jane, my personal assistant, said as she stood in my office this morning, running through recent contracts, stocks, and an overview of the products we were preparing to launch.

Aurelius stood out for it's luxury and elegant collections, fashion shows, and an unwavering commitment to innovation. This new line was particularly significant, marking a bold step into sustainable luxury- a gamble that could either solidify our standing or expose us to criticism.

As Jane continued her updates, my mind wandered back to the previous night with Aria. The way she surrendered herself to me in my Rolls Royce sent nothing but pure satisfaction coursing through my veins. I could still feel the heat of her skin, the softness of her lips, the way her body arched, as if she were made to fit perfectly in my arms.

She is fucking made for me. Her body moulded and melted with mine like a missing piece of a puzzle I struggled to solve. And there was nothing more pleasing than making her see and feel that she was no one's but mine.

I was so fucking hard at the sight of seeing her naked and needy last night, my cock was about to pierce and break free from my tailored pants that costs more than one's house rent.

The way she cried with pleasure when I explored every inch of her with my hands and mouth felt like getting lost in a fantasy, where I never wanted to return to the real world.

"Mr. Bang, are you listening?" Jane's voice pulled me back to the present.

"Yeah, sorry. Go on," I said, forcing myself to concentrate. I couldn't afford distractions, not with so much riding on this launch. Jane gave me a concerned look but continued.

"The investors are eager, but there are whispers of skepticism regarding the sustainable materials. Some think it's just a marketing gimmick."

"Let them think what they want," I replied, a touch of frustration in my voice. "We'll prove them wrong with results."

"Of course"

"Is there anything else?" I asked Jane, hoping to wrap up the meeting.

"Just one more thing," she said hesitantly.

"There's been some unusual activity reported by our IT department. They think someone might be trying to access our confidential files."

My eyes widened at her words, a cold shiver running down my spine. "What?" I tried to keep my voice low but it came our sharper than I intended.

"They're still investigating, but they haven't pinpointed the source yet," Jane replied, her own worry evident in her expression. "It could be an internal issue or an external threat. We're not sure. Whatever they try, it leads to unknown"

I rubbed my temples. Great. When I thought everything could go smoothly, some bullshit has to come and ruin everything.

"I need that fucker tracked down by the end of the week. I don't care what security measures you have to implement or how much overtime it takes. Just get it done," I snapped, my frustration bubbling over.

Jane nodded, her expression steely. "Understood."

As she left the office, I leaned back in my chair, trying to reign in my temper. My mind raced through a thousand possibilities. Any number of competitors could be behind it and I cannot afford any leaks on this project I've been working on for a year.

I sat there for a moment, the weight of the situation bearing down on me. The launch was critical, and then there was Aria. My mind kept drifting back to her and last night no matter how much I tried to keep it down.

There was too much at stake. My father was counting on me, the board was watching, and the future of Aurelius depended on my ability to handle this.

As much as my father believes in me to take over the company one day, giving such a project in my hands is his way of testing my leadership. I trusted myself with my logics and strategies, yet, something in my gut is telling me to be aware of an upcoming threat.

With a sigh, I pushed those thoughts aside. I couldn't afford to let my emotions cloud my judgment. I returned to the pile of documents on my desk, diving into the work that needed to be done. But no matter how hard I tried to focus, the memory of a certain brunette lingered, a constant reminder of what could be slipping through my grasp.

Fuck this hell. I need a drink.

But instead of going to my cabinet where I keep my whiskeys and other expensive wine, I grabbed my phone and dialed my favourite Michelin star restaurant.

"Good morning. I'd like to make a reservation for this afternoon"

***

"Oh wow Chris, this place looks stunning" Aria said, her eyes wide with admiration as she took in the elegant surroundings of L'Étoile.

The restaurant was a symphony of sophistication and luxury. Huge chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. The walls were adorned with tasteful art, each piece carefully chosen to complement the refined atmosphere. The tables were dressed in crisp, white linens, and the gentle clinking of silverware and murmured conversations added to the ambiance.

I watched Aria's face light up, a small, genuine smile tugging at my lips despite myself.

"I thought you might like it," I said, guiding her inside the restaurant. We slowly stepped inside, the soft hum of classical music enveloping us as the scent of freshly baked bread and exquisite dishes wafted through the air.

Wee approached the hostess stand, a well-dressed host with a polished demeanor greeted us with a courteous bow.

"Good afternoon. I have a reservation for the afternoon. Under Christopher Bang" I said smoothly while my hand remained on the small of Aria's back. She stood so close to me, I could feel the faint scent of her floral perfume.

"Good afternoon, Mr. And Mrs. Bang. Your table is ready. Please follow me" The host instantly recognised me and led us through the restaurant, weaving between tables adorned with crisp white linens and sparkling silverware.

We passed a live string quartet playing in the corner, their music adding another touch of elegance. Our table was perfectly positioned near a large window, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline illuminated against the afternoon sky.

The host pulled out Aria's chair with a practiced grace, and she settled into it with a look of awe still etched on her face. I took my seat across from her, feeling a sense of satisfaction at her reaction.

"Your server will be with you shortly," the greeter said, placing the menus in front of us with a polite smile. "Please enjoy your afternoon."

As he walked away, I noticed Aria's eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail. She looked stunning in her gorgeous black coat and boots outfit, accentuating her natural beauty.

I felt a strange warmth in my chest, a feeling I was beginning to recognize as more than just physical attraction which surprisingly didn't feel uneasy.

The waiter approached, handing us the menus with a flourish. "Would you care for some wine to start?" he asked, his tone professional yet warm.

"Sure, bring us your best red," I replied, glancing at Aria who nodded in agreement. As the waiter left, Aria leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"This place is amazing. How did you find it?"

A faint smile tugged the corner of my lips as I watched her gaze locked with mine. "It is. I used to come here with my father. We love their dishes"

I managed a cool voice, trying to calm down a racing heart having no idea why it's beating so fast. Somehow today being with Aria felt different. Her gaze softened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something in her eyes that made my heart skip a beat.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said quietly.

I looked away, pretending to study the menu. "I thought you might want to spend some time outside" I replied, but even I could hear the slight tremor in my voice.

The waiter returned with the wine, pouring us each a glass. I took a sip, letting the rich, velvety liquid coat my tongue, trying to calm the conflicting emotions swirling inside me.

"Shall we order?" I asked, eager to steer the conversation away from the dangerous territory of feelings.

As we discussed the menu, I couldn't help but steal glances at her. The way she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved- it was all insanely distracting.

"So um," Aria spoke in a low voice, attempting to break the silence. "How's work?"

"It's," I took a sip of the wine. I've gotten so used to whiskey, even the best wine tastes like fruit juice from the supermarket.

"It's hectic as always," I finally replied, my voice softer than usual. "The upcoming launch is taking up most of my time." I was being careful with the words but somehow I felt like I wanted to share more with her than just the weather and how the food tastes.

"You did mention that it was a big step," She replied softly, encouraging me to continue, those big brown eyes having trapped the soft glow of the lights above us.

I took a deep breath, deciding to let her in a bit more. "We're introducing a new sustainable luxury collection. It's a quiet a big shift for the company, and there's a lot riding on it. It's exciting, but also nerve-wracking."

Aria watched me with concern. "That sounds intense. It's a lot to handle."

"Yeah," I admitted, feeling a slight weight lift off my shoulders just by talking about it. "But it's not just that. There's a lot of pressure from the board, my father, and everyone else. Sometimes it feels like I'm juggling too many things at once."

She reached across the table and gently placed her hand over mine. "You're doing great, Chris. I believe in you." Her words, simple as they were, meant more to me than I wanted to admit.

I squeezed her hand briefly, the soft brush of her hand over mine felt like a lifeline of a stormy sea.

"Thanks, Aria. It helps to hear that." She smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"You don't always have to carry everything on your own, you know." I nodded, appreciating her support but knowing I had to keep my distance. But fuck, it was becoming harder and harder.

"I know. But some things are easier dealt with alone."

The rest of the meal passed in a more relaxed silence, her presence comforting yet bittersweet. Being with Aria was becoming more than just a contractual partner; she was someone I could confide in, someone who genuinely cared.

But I couldn't afford to let my guard down. Not yet. It was nearly impossible to shake off the feeling of this connection we were building. It was both a blessing and a curse.

And as much as I wanted to open up to her, to let her in completely, the risk of getting hurt, or worse, hurting her, was too high. She has dealt enough of my shit over the past months.

As we made our way out of the restaurant to my Porsche, I couldn't forget the way her eyes sparkled everytime she looked at me. They held hope and something I wasn't sure but desperately wanted to believe in.

Fuck. She's so gorgeous and so full of life, a pang of guilt hit me again, but I pushed it aside. I needed to focus. We made it to the car, I opened the passenger door for her and walked over to the driver's side.

The engine roared to life, and with a smooth glide, we pulled out onto the street. The city blurred past us as we drove in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Every now and then, I stole glances at Aria. She was staring out the window, her expression soft and contemplative.

Instead of taking the direction to my mansion, I drove to the headquarters of Aurelius.

"Where are we going?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"You'll see," I replied, keeping my eyes on the road. I could feel her gaze on me, but I kept my expression neutral, not wanting to give anything away.

After getting through the crazy traffic, we arrived at the towering headquarters of Aurelius. I slowly pulled into the entrance of the underground parking lot.

The security gates lifted as the system recognized my car, and I drove into the private parking area reserved for executives.

"Come on," I said, stepping out after parking the car and walked over to open her door. Her hand slipped into mine, Aria looked around, taking in the surroundings with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"I thought it was time you saw where I spend most of my days. And nights."

"This is where you work?" she asked as she stepped out of the car, her eyes wide. "Yeah," I nodded, feeling a strange mix of pride and nervousness.

We walked into the minimalist yet luxurious building, the receptionist greeted us with a nod as we made our way to the elevator to the top floor.

The ride up was silent, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was filled with anticipation, well, at least on my part. When the elevator doors slid opened and my hand fell on the small of her back as I led her down the hall to my office.

The soft clicks of my shoes and her heels on the marble floor echoed through the corridor, the only sounds breaking the stillness.

Jane was sitting at her desk in front of my office, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She looked up as we approached, a surprised smile spreading across her face. I gestured her to sit when was stood up, tapping in my passcode and I pushed open the doors, as we stepped inside.

The office was spacious and modern, exuding an air of authority and elegance. My desk, a sleek piece of dark mahogany with polished chrome accents, stood in the middle of the room. It was positioned strategically to face the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline, along with my coffee table and furniture for late night drinks.

Behind the desk, built-in bookshelves lined the walls, filled with an array of business books, awards, and framed photographs.

Aria glanced around the office, her eyes capturing and taking in every detail. She walked around the room, her fingers lightly brushing over the surface of my desk and the spines of the books on the shelves.

She stopped at the framed picture of my father and me, us dressed in our black suits with the Aurelius building behind us, a moment of pride and legacy frozen in time.

"You and your father," she said softly, glancing at me. "You look so much alike."

I nodded, my gaze fixed on the photograph. "He's been a huge influence on my life. Everything I've learned, is from him."

Aria turned back to me, her eyes full of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite place. "I can see that you're continuing his legacy," Her eyes fell on the floor then on me.

"But there's more to you than just work."

A pang clenched my chest at her words. She saw through the façade I had carefully constructed, the one that protected me from getting too close, from feeling too much.

"Aria," I began, my voice low and steady. "There's a lot you don't know about me." She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering.

"Then tell me, Chris. Let me in."

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. Aria was a beacon of warmth in my otherwise controlled existence. Years of conditioning told me to retreat, to protect myself from the vulnerability her presence evoked.

I glanced at the photograph of my father. He had taught me strength, resilience, but emotions were never part of his lessons.

My mother was the woman he fell in love with and will love for the rest of his life. But unfortunately me being able to feel that is something I didn't inherit from my parents.

Aria's gaze was still on me, her eyes searching for mine. Searching for someone behind my exterior who would love her the way she deserves and I...

I wasn't that man she deserves.

"Chris,"

Before she could finish, I erased the distance between us, capturing her lips with mine. It was tender, yet filled with an intensity that spoke of all the things I couldn't say.

Her fingers sank in my hair as my hands held her waist, the surrounding faded away, leaving the two of us to get lost to wherever our souls desired.

She was mine. In every existing universe. But she was worth more than anything I felt capable of giving.

When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against hers, breathing her in. If only she knew and if only I could keep her wrapped in the warmth of my embrace, shielded from the doubts that threatened to consume me, then maybe, I could give her the love she deserved...

The love I couldn't feel.

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

Taglist: @bowsnbang @bangchannie97lov @hwasmints @laurenalpha123 @mrs-hwangh @greyyeti @sociallyawkward18 @stephanieeeyang @piscesrising01 @jaquisos @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know <3 (If I missed someone please lmk)

Thank you for reading!

xx, Ivyy

Next Chapter

[cats-journey]

The Hospital Stay

Okay, so this is all new and I’m learning a lot. For example, I learned that the week after chemo I am particularly toxic so have to be extra careful about the cutlery and crockery I use, that they need to be set aside and cleaned with bleach, etc. (Dramatic? Pour Moi? Who would have ever seen that coming).

On Tuesday I decided to go to work. I went in to the office with the view of setting myself up for what I might be able to do, see how my energy levels go, talk to my supervisor, etc. I managed a few hours, then went home, napped and tried to recuperate.

On Wednesday I woke up with some minor muscle spasms in my lower back, but I pushed through. I went to work. I had training, it was uncomfortable, I pushed through. Look, not only was I a competitive athlete as a teen, but in my family that’s what we do. If it’s a niggle you’ll be fine, manage it but it’s not an excuse to go home.

UNLESS! You suddenly end up doubled over in pain, have a headache and blurry vision and it hurts to walk much less sit… then you calmly ring your father from your desk asking to please get a lift to be taken to the hospital. And you think you yourself ‘hmm… this might be one of those things the oncology nurses told you to ring in about - unusual symptoms or possible side effects’.

So I tried calling, I’d not saved their number in my phone (because let’s be real, I did not have the foresight when sitting in a bed for 7 hours getting pumped full of poison and exhausted from a massive first week of being sliced, diced and becoming part cyborg) so I was on hold for the entire time it took to be picked up and driven to the place. I was told my first port of call should be the GP. My mother’s facial response to that comment was… classic, and would have been funny if I wasn’t in so much pain. So we went to the Emergency Department. The way the hospitals have been changed, I could be driven closer but it was still a walk.

So we got there, they gave me a wheelchair and put us in an interview room for isolation from all the germs (because I have no immune system. Poison), and it was a game of waiting a couple of hours until they could get a bed sorted in a different isolation room. I think it was only 2, but who knows? The nurse and doctor who saw me were lovely, took bloods and of course couldn’t leave the canula in because it hurt so much, even though the nurse did a great job. I have a feeling everything is kind of inflamed inside me right now… which is also fun for both myself and them. I was moved to a room in the EMU (heh, emu) and then around 7 hours later when I said I wanted to just go home if they had my results, I learned something new.

Apparently chemo can cause micro fractures in your spine.

I also have a very active and cuddly baby, who happened to have wanted to be lifted into bed with me the night before. Oh.

So I stayed overnight so I could get a CT scan where my muscles were freaking out, to make sure it wasn’t a case of micro fractures. It turned out to be a massive blessing, because I slept quite comfortably and everyone in the house got sick. Thankfully they didn’t find anything to explain the muscle spasms, so I’m adding electrolytes to my diet twice a week to help mitigate that. They couldn’t find a root cause, so I put it down to a whole lot of trauma to my body in a short amount of time, then trying to force my body into something that used to feel normal.

I may have been discharged, gone home to shower and got changed to go back into work. In my mind, it made sense to see what I could get done but also to stay away from the germs from my sick family. I also don’t know how long I’ll be at work for, I’m already struggling with maintaining concentration and feeling like a burden more than a help. But we’ll see what happens. This might give me time to focus on some things I’ve been meaning to do anyway.

With Love, as always, Cat xx

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Six

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: It's still Sad hours folks, Mentions of Grief, Mild Anxiety, Some Self Deprecation / Negative Self Talk, AND THEN some Fluff, Cute Banter, Dry Humor, and the biggest warning of all: Pirate Facts (don't forget who we're talking to here)

Word Count : 3.5k

Summary : Charlotte is still processing the prior day's events and struggling to deal with her grief coupled with the fact she let a "stranger" see her upset. Unfortunately, things have to get worse before they get better, but she is well on her way to better.

Author's Note: HEHE ANOTHER ONE. Okay really though, I know we've been having sad chapters and I want you to get to good stuff so I figured since this is the last sad chapter for a bit AND she's a little shorter than the next handful, I may as well let you have her early. We start off a bit rough, but it only gets better as you read! PROMISE.

Honest - Joseph "There's always two thoughts, One after the other, I'm alone, No, you're not."

I’ve been sitting in bed since I got home last night, recounting everything. A full-blown meltdown, Charlotte? You really couldn’t choke it back for a little longer? I have never been good at letting people in. I tend to keep everybody at arms’ reach, which is why I now have… basically, no friends.  

I don’t know how I got here; that’s a lie. I am too intense. I work too much. I care too much about my work. I could stand to relax a little more. Okay, let’s not talk ourselves into a spiral now; it’s too early in the morning. 

It’s 7 a.m., and I’ve barely slept. I force myself out of bed. I just need coffee. Stretching as I walk into my kitchen, I set up my coffee pot and lean against the counter, rubbing my eyes to rid the sleep left on them. He was so sweet about it, too. He didn’t even hesitate. Taking a deep breath , I shake my head as if that would get rid of the thoughts. 

I pour some coffee into my favorite mug, take the first sip, and feel the warmth go through my body. ‘Oh, Honey’ rings in my head. Does he just give everybody pet names?  Finding myself on my couch, my laptop sitting next to me, taunting me with the option to work. I know I should take the day off with how little sleep I got, but I would also rather stay busy. 

I could just check my emails. 

Maybe I’ll just work for a few hours.  

It couldn’t hurt to just clock in. 

I’m pushing open my laptop, frustrated because I know I’ve lost the battle with myself again. I immediately pull up my emails, seeing a handful from the last few days that I haven’t answered. 

It’s a lot of easy work, which is good because, well, I shouldn’t be working right now. I spend a while replying to everything in my inbox, including an email to my boss. I sip my coffee between emails, trying to stay focused on work but finding my mind wandering. 

I would have been fine if he didn’t acknowledge that I looked sad. I could have gotten through that situation so much better. Why did he have to notice? I pause my thoughts, realizing how insensitive they seem. You’re grieving, Charlotte. Jesus Christ, give yourself some grace. You’re GOING to be sad. He was just good at handling that. I still can’t wrap my head around how quickly he reacted. Most men I’ve met probably wouldn’t have even realized something was wrong, let alone make sure I could privately have a moment. 

My throat starts to tighten again, and my chest feels heavy; I wish I could tell her about this. She would have been so shocked to hear that I let someone help me. My eyes start to get blurry. Oh, not again. I sit there, letting the tears fall down my face. 

“Fuck,” I mutter to my empty apartment. 

I rub my eyes, probably harder than I should, before making a second cup of coffee. Breathing shakily as I pour, text him. No. You need a friend, Charlotte. I don’t even know him, aside from his business. He said to let him know if you need anything, and you do kind of need something right now. I do not, I’m fine. Then why are you still crying? 

Sitting on my couch, I grab my phone and pull up his messages. Just text him. 

I struggle to type anything out for a moment, wiping my face a few times before finally settling on something simple. 

Charlotte: hi goodmorning 

I lock my screen quickly, setting my phone next to me, face down. Why did I do that? It’ll be fine. Just let him respond.  

Back to work, I open an email from my boss; 

‘Charlotte,  Why are you working today? I thought you took the day off? Regardless, how did everything go in Portland? Did you get the paperwork handled with Caravel Tavern? I’m hoping for your sake that the owner was pleasant and just filled it out for you.  It’s an unfortunate situation that you had to go there, but much appreciated that you were able to stop by and get that taken care of.’ 

My boss and I have been working together for a while, so I’d like to think that he isn’t being disingenuous with that email, but the fact he knows the ultimate reason I went to Portland and only seemingly touched on the work part is making my stomach hurt. Does everybody think that I’m emotionless? I went there to mourn my friend, and he was worried about how my work went. I feel the tears pricking at my eyes again. This time, I don’t fight them. Setting my laptop to the side, I take a few sips of coffee, wiping my eyes in between. 

My phone vibrates beneath my leg. Is it.. Grabbing it nervously, I flip it over, letting the screen turn on. There, his name sits on my lock screen. 

Jacob: Well goodmorning, how are you feeling? 

Not great. My stomach turns reading the question over and over. Why does he care? 

Charlotte: I’ve been better, honestly. How are you?

Why did you say that? He literally saw me cry yesterday. I think he’d be more shocked if I said I was feeling great.  

Jacob: oh i’m sorry, can I do anything to help? 

No. Just tell him you need a friend, especially right now. We have worked together, I can’t do that. I’m above him, technically. Charlotte, chill out. You’re not co-workers. You can be friends with him. 

Charlotte: I don’t know. I’m just having a rough morning  and I didn’t know who else to text. 

You don’t have anybody you would text anyway. This happens when you don’t keep in touch with your friends. 

Jacob: Do you want to talk about whats wrong or I can just try to distract you?

He’s so.. Don’t tell him. 

Charlotte: I think a distraction is needed 

I’m immediately curious how he’s going to be distracting through text. He’s distracting enough in person. Charlotte. I’m sorry, but it’s no secret. 

Jacob: In that case, how much do you know about the golden age of piracy? 

Charlotte: lol I do actually know a little bit, but go on. 

Jacob: Do you?? Well then, my personal favorites are Anne Bonny and Blackbeard is an obvious choice but.. I dont even care haha hes great. 

A smile crept onto my face when I read his reply. Why is it so wholesome that one of his favorites is a woman pirate? He’s probably just saying it.

Charlotte: You like Anne Bonny?

It’s marked as read immediately, and the typing bubbles pop up almost instantly.

Jacob: She was incredible! And she never was found?? That’s insane. You have to respect it. 

Charlotte: She really was incredible. I know a little about Blackbeard but, you can tell me about him.

Charlotte: If you want obviously, you don’t have to. 

Phone in hand, I walk into my bathroom and turn the shower on before facing the mirror. My eyes are puffy, and my hair is everywhere. God, Charlotte, get it together, girl. I set my phone on the counter, leaning in to look at myself closer. Seeing how dark my under eyes are and how irritated my waterline is from rubbing at them. I look down at the counter, feeling the tears coming back. Softly shutting my eyes to force the tears out. 

“For the love of god,” I whisper to myself. 

Undressing myself and stepping into the shower, I stand with my face in the water. Feeling the warmth surrounding me, it feels safe. Once the water has completely soaked my hair, I sit on the tub floor, holding my knees close to me, letting the hot water beat against my back. You’re allowed to be sad, Charlotte. Tears freely fall down my face. I hate this. 

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Carefully squeezing the water out of my hair and clipping it out of my way, I pull on a comfortable sweatshirt and leggings. I quickly rub some moisturizer into my face, grab my phone, and head back to the couch. I sink back into my spot, pull my throw blanket back over me, and slouch down into the corner. 

I pull my phone out and see a handful of texts from Jacob sitting there. 

Jacob: Welllll.. Supposedly his actual name was Edward Teach .. or Thatch.. Nobody really has confirmation because Pirates didn’t always use their real surnames to not spoil the family name. 

Jacob: He obviously was the owner of Queen Anne’s Revenge, but it was originally a French Slave ship named La Concorde that he managed to capture. 

Jacob: When he died, they beheaded him and put his head on a STAKE at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay!

Jacob: Are you okay? Is this annoying?

Why do I want to cry? Well, nobody else is checking on you.  

Charlotte: No, you’re not annoying me. I showered, I should have let you know. I’m sorry. 

Rubbing my eyes until I see TV static and taking long breaths seem to be the only thing calming me down. Nobody taught me how to handle waves of grief. My stomach turns at the thought. 

Jacob: dont be sorry, its okay. 

Charlotte: Are you actually working right now.. by any chance? 

What are you doing? I don’t want to be alone right now. 

Letting out a deep breath, trying to unclench my jaw, it’s hard to relax.

Jacob: I don’t have to be. 

My hands tremble as I click on his name and promptly click on the ‘call’ button. Please pick up. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, “what’s going on?” 

“Hi,” I whisper. My throat immediately gets tight, and my lips shake.” Um,” I say, taking another long breath. 

“Oh,” he whispers, “hang on.” I can hear the music from the bar slowly fade before the click of the door shut. 

“Are you okay?” 

“No,” I whimper softly, “I can’t stop crying, and I’m nauseous, and I just don’t want to feel alone.” 

Oh, that was a lot. 

“Hey, hey, slow down,” his voice is calm. “I’ll stay on the phone with you; just take a little breath for me, okay?”

In through your nose, out through the mouth. 

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on if you don’t want to, but I hate that you’re so upset,” his voice getting a bit softer. 

“I don’t think I can say it out loud yet,” I confess, “It’s just- I’m sorry, it’s too much, and I-”

My breathing picks up again, and I can feel my heart pounding. This was a good idea, wasn’t it? 

“Honey, it’s okay,” he says, there’s that name again. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. We can talk about anything else.” 

Breathe Charlotte. Closing my eyes, more tears fall, but my breathing slows. 

“What have you done today?” he asks.

“Um, I took a shower and answered some emails,” my voice still struggling to stabilize.

“You were working?” 

“I thought it would help distract me, but it sort of made everything worse,” I said, sounding defeated. 

His soft laugh is almost enough to make me smile, “Have you eaten today?” he continues the light interrogation. 

“No, I’ve only had coffee,” I tell him. 

“Why don’t you make yourself something to eat?” His tone is still very calm; he really is good at this, “Maybe sleep a little if you can.”

He’s right. I probably should eat something, at least.

“I definitely feel like I could use a nap,” I let out a sad giggle, wiping my eyes for the millionth time. 

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you for a little bit?” 

My chest feels weird when he asks that. 

“If you don’t mind..” my voice was small, not wanting to be a pain. 

“I don’t mind one bit.” 

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I stroll into my kitchen, open the cabinets, and stare into them. 

“What should I eat?” I question out loud.

“Food is probably your best bet,” he answers dryly, and I swear I can hear the smirk on his face. 

“Incredibly helpful, thank you.” 

His giggle rings through my ears, and I can feel the tug on the corners of my mouth. His laugh is cute. Reaching into the cabinet and pulling out my bag of pretzel crisps. 

“What’s the verdict?”

“Just some pretzels,” I mumble, knowing it’s not much. But I’m also not starving. 

“Lunch of Olympians, Charlotte.” 

This time, it’s my laugh radiating through the phone. Oh. I bring my hand up to cover my mouth once I realize it. 

“That might be the first time I’ve done anything other than cry today.” 

“Happy to help, m’lady.” 

I giggle at the mild English accent that snuck out, “I think if you learn much more, you’re gonna become a pirate.” 

“That isn’t a threat to me like you probably think it is,” he says. 

“Have to start calling you Captain Jake Sparrow,” 

He clears his throat before letting out a weak “Yeah,” followed by an uncomfortable laugh. 

“Um, so,” he starts, “what’s something that you enjoy too much? Since you’re so graciously laughing about mine.” 

Working. You like other things, Charlotte. But working is the most satisfying. Baking.. Reading.. Hello? 

“I read a lot,” I blurt out, realizing I was in my head, “and I like to bake.”  My hand covers my face as I tell him because I definitely sounded like I just pulled it out of my ass. 

“Oh! I read a fair bit myself; what are you reading?” 

Fuck. Yeah, go ahead and tell him what you read. 

I scan the book on my coffee table; it’s just another contemporary romance novel. I like to alternate more non-fiction things with some romance because I’m not a robot. I have a soft spot for sweet stories. Something about effortlessly falling in love or watching two characters pine over each other for a good majority of the book before allowing themselves to act on it. 

“Uhhh…” I stammer over myself. “I don’t know if you’d know it.”  I can feel the heat rise into my cheeks as he breathes through the phone, waiting for me to elaborate. Slumping down into the corner of the couch.

“What genre?”

“It’s uh.. a contemporary romance..” I whisper quickly. Look, there’s nothing wrong with romance novels, but with how I have learned to present myself while I’m working, it feels a bit silly to admit. 

“Ooohhhhh,” he taunts. “Are you secretly a little hopeless romantic, Red?”

“I am just a girl, Jacob. You asked the question.” I giggle at the nickname and the fact he’s calling me out so quickly. Scooting myself down further, so I’m practically lying down.

“Alright, alright, fair enough,” he laughs, “I read a lot of historical things, as you can imagine. So, consider me boring.” 

“You are far from boring,” I tell him, not meaning to have it come off like it probably did.

“I think my brothers would beg to differ,” he sighs.

“I’m almost positive that’s just a sibling thing that they’re required to do,” I readjust my arm underneath my pillow, switching my phone to speaker and setting it next to me, “But also, maybe I just don’t think pirates are boring. Who’s to say?”

“Hey Jake, can I bother you?” I hear faintly in the background, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Hang on for a second?” he asks quietly. 

“I’ll be here.” 

I close my eyes, just listening to the random sounds that pick up from his phone. God, I’m so tired. A yawn sneaks up on me, releasing a deep breath, and I can feel my body relax even more. I can feel my breathing change a bit, and my head feels heavier as I lie here. 

“Hi, I’m sorry,” he says. A small “oop” falling from my lips involuntarily. 

“Did I scare you?” he whispers this time.

“A little,” I mumble, my eyes still sewn shut, “I think I fell asleep.”

“Get some rest,” I swear I can hear the smile on his face, “we can talk later.” 

All I manage is an ‘mhm’ before I feel myself drifting back into my slumber. 

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 My phone vibrates against my face, jolting me from my nap. Holy shit. Swiping away the unknown caller, tucking my arms back into my blanket, and closing my eyes. I don’t want to be awake yet. Deciding to lay there for a few more minutes before becoming a human again. 

Finally, I caved and opened my phone. Jacob’s messages were still pulled up, but I noticed new ones sitting at the bottom. 

Jacob: i hope you feel a little better when you wake up. It was really nice getting to talk to you. I mostly talk to my brothers at this point so it was refreshing

Jacob: not the you being sad part, just the rest of it obviously 

I audibly laugh at the second text. He’s so uncomfortable. 

I scroll through our messages for a moment with a small smile.  You’ve been grinning at these messages… Well, he is charming. I mean, he basically talked you down until you were relaxed enough to sleep. I can still hear his voice in my head, ‘Take a breath for me.’ The way he looked at me as he wiped the tears from my face, I don’t know what happened at that moment. I hear Cass in my head, “Stop thinking yourself out of happiness.” 

I set my phone down, quickly sat up, and grabbed my laptop from my coffee table. I opened it, pulled up my emails again, and scrolled for the email from my boss. Hitting reply, I quickly start typing;

‘Good evening,  Actually,- I may need to work remotely. After spending a few days checking in, it seems like some assistance may be required-’

Actually what? My hands are typing faster than I can coherently think, but it’s not entirely a lie; he does seem like he needs a little bit of help getting things in order, and with having to train Melody and get her certified, he’s going to be juggling a lot of things. 

‘I believe that Mr. Kiszka-’

 I giggle to myself, fully able to hear him from the first day I walked in saying, ‘Mr. Kiszka is my father.’ 

 ‘-has the capabilities to succeed, but he is still fairly new at this and is just trying to get caught up. He also has a new hire that he will be getting certified, and I will be assisting him with that process to ensure everything goes smoothly.’

Charlotte, you’re still emotional. Maybe you should just hold off on sending this. What do you mean by ‘you will be assisting him’? He’s fine! The words are flowing out from my fingertips, and I’m choosing to ignore the voices in my head this time. Okay, wow.

‘That said, I’ll be located within 30 minutes of Portland. If there are any other businesses you’d like me to check on while I’m there, please let me know. Have a great weekend,  Charlotte Rhodes’

I hit send with no second thought. 

Okay, so that was a dumb choice. You were much more assertive than you usually are, and that isn’t going to fair well. You weren’t that bad, but not giving an option for working remotely was definitely a choice. 

Shutting my laptop abruptly and setting it back on the coffee table, my heart is racing. Never done that before. Typically, I’m not someone who acts on emotions, but for some reason, today is different.

Charlotte: I knew what you meant, lol. I feel much more educated on pirates now. 

Jacob:  oh i have so much more i could tell you 

Charlotte: Well, I’m done working so.. I have time. 

Staring at our texts, I don’t know what I’m doing. My hands timidly scroll up, rereading our conversation. Why do I feel nervous? Noting that he’s been nothing but nice and helpful, my phone gently vibrates and automatically scrolls to the bottom as he replies. 

Jacob: be careful what you wish for dear

Charlotte: I’m already on board, it’s too late. 

I sink into the couch again, wondering if this is a mistake. I did kind of make an irrational decision.. Mmm… feels silly now, doesn’t it? But immediately remembering that, I promised my best friend that I would live a little. ‘It’s just a job, babe,’ plays in my head, and she’s right. It is just a job, and I’m still going to do my job, but  from Portland. Where we can talk to this nice boy, who seems like he’s just happy to have someone to talk to. But you also need to not lose your job for a-

Jacob: I hope you already have your sea legs then

Jacob: there were a million pirates in that era so we have a lot to go over

The nerves are nowhere to be seen, swallowed by my quiet laughter as I read his texts. I can only imagine how excited he probably is to talk to someone about this who isn’t going to groan or fake sleep during it. I will gladly take any distraction I can get tonight. The nice voice in my brain is just telling me, maybe we could be friends. 

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Chapter Five

Chapter Seven

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | FDOG Playlist

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[space-woomy]

22. Agent 24 >:3c

From this ask game! (I hope)

22. Nap

"I...Am fines, Molly..." Eight slurred, her hands struggling to stay still as they titled from side to side over top the weapon she was working on.

"Uh-huh, sure you are." Molly insinuated. "I mean, you look absolutley amazing." They leaned down and picked up the end of one of Eight's tentacle. It's color was a much duller magenta than the rest of it. They let go, and it flopped down past Eight's shoulder.

"Molly...hun, I have to do work...no matter how tireds I am." Eight sighed.

She had been meticulously working to clean out every inch of this weapon for a few days now. It was a special order that needed to be done by next week. It was plenty of time for Eight, but she had put a lot of stress on herself because it was "special".

"Eight, please..." Molly leaned down and wrapped their arms around Eight. "You can work on this tomorrow...that's what you always tell me."

"I knooooow...But I want to work on this..." Eight wined.

"...do you?" Molly questioned.

"...no..." Eight admitted. "But what else am I going to do? I feels...too tired to do anything..."

"Then take a nap, dummy." Molly stated.

"...I am unfamiliar with what that is."

"You...Y-You don't know what a nap is?" Molly queried.

"...Yes. What is it?" Eight asked.

Molly took a second before responding. "Well, it's...it's going to sleep, but not at night. and not for several hours...hopefully..."

They were kind of taken aback by Eight's answer. They doubted that the concept of a nap itself was unfamiliar to her. It was most likely a combination of the inkling word for it and, unfortunately, probably due to never having been allowed one back in the military.

"It sounds inefficient." Eight remarked.

"It's not." Molly stated.

"...still, I am...*yawn*...I have already committed myself to doing this today." Eight said.

"...how about this..." Molly started. They leaned closer to Eight's ear and gently nuzzled the side of her head. "...you take a nap for an hour or two, and then get back to work on this, ok? Somethin' to give you a bit of energy."

"..." Eight silently debated the choice in her head.

"...I'll join you if you want..." Molly suggested.

"...you will nap with me?" Eight inquired.

"Yep...get aaaaaaall nice and cuddled up...be all warm..." Molly whispered as they gently rubbed Eight's forearms. "...I'll let you be the big spoon~..." That was the final tipping point to convince Eight.

"...hehe...ok..." Eight relinquished. She set down the small tools in her hands and took off the goggles around her head, setting them down on the table. As she began to get up, Molly picked her up from her seat, holding her in their arms.

"oh!" Eight gasped. "H-hun...you do not have to be doing this..." Eight smiled.

"Nope. I don't. But I want to." Molly said flatly. They carried their girlfriend over to the bet, and gently set her down. Eight quickly scooted over as Molly climbed in to join her. The 2 of them wrapped around each other, legs tangled together, with Molly resting their head in Eight's chest.

"...this is nice already, right?" Molly inquired.

"...yeah...but...I do not think this will do much about my energy..." Eight forced a smile. In her mind, she was stuck with sleep being only for night. You could only sleep when it was time to sleep. But Molly was willing to break this.

"You'll see. Naps are great. I kinda don't think I'd be hear without them." Molly admitted. "...here, let me help you with falling asleep."

Molly pulled herself up to Eight's face, and began to gently place kisses all over it, and her neck. Eight couldn't help but giggle, and try to return them back. As she did however, she felt her tiredness begin to be replaced by sleepiness. Molly's soft lips gingerly planting warm smooches all over her face was oddly soothing. She felt less worried about her work, a lot more relaxed...she only really cared about the moment she was in...about Molly...

Molly's kisses gradually slowed down, getting more and more gentle as they focused more on Eight's neck. They rubbed their hands along her back and hips, snuggling deeper into her. They eventually stopped, nestling into their lover. Eight's eyes were fluttering, the last remnants of her will to work being melted away by the cuddles. She sighed, and hugged Molly tighter, nuzzling their mantle as she let the feeling of warmth and love wash over her...

Her mind was filled with thoughts of how caring Molly was, how sweet they were, and how cuddly they were being...no thoughts of the deadline, work, or how exhausted she felt...just thoughts of love and comfort...as the 2 of them gently drifted into their nap...

[pineapplerightsideupcake]

how do you as a bisexual come to terms with the fact that the trans community has literally made homophobia much worse. ppl are proudly being openly homophobic and when you dig deeper it’s actually the “queers” and transgenders who think kids can transition who they have a problem with (not all of course but a good chunk) I believe ppl who wouldn’t otherwise be homophobic are being homophobic bc of the trans community. I use to really struggle w internalized homophobia, and still do, it was only this past year where I came to terms w it and told my sister/close friends. I wish it could be just a normal thing to be gay and you’d be left alone, I believe we were on a trajectory for that. But now things have gotten worse, and thanks to the gender nonsense, openly bigoted ppl (especially religious) are being praised and promoted. All this bc of trans activism. I don’t even care anymore about what they do to themselves, but the damage they’ve done to actual gay ppl is insane and we’re already facing the backlash. I’m not sure if we’ll ever live in a world where being lgb isn’t a big deal.

Honestly? I think the benefit of pushing 40 is that I have a wider lens through which to view activism. And I feel the same way about LGB rights as I do about women’s rights.

Which is to say, every time a big gain is won, there is backlash. There are parts of society that get worse as the culture tries desperately to adjust around the new changes.

Men today are more porn sick and sexually aggressive than 20 years ago. In some ways. People are polling less positively about the LGTBQI+ but how much of that backlash is really directed at the LGB? Are polling groups even bothering to distinguish between LGB and “queer” people?

Let me tell you what life was like as a bisexual teen in 2003. Let’s go back 20 years and I can tell you the world has changed so much for the better. 20 years ago gay rights activists started really making headway towards civil rights guarantees. Suddenly middle Americans had to confront that gay people were among them and not just haunting bars and bathhouses. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such rigid gender norm adherence as I did back then. Men couldn’t wear pastels or purple or pink. Guys got called gay for having a messenger bag. There is an entire episode of “Friends” about it. Sussing out the Gays Among Us became obsessive. Emo culture was a direct response to how frantic straight people were to appear duly heterosexual. TV shows still depicted us as degenerate freaks if they depicted us at all. A few HBO shows that were soft core porn more than anything and Will and Grace was all anybody had. Shows like Xena and Buffy got away with lesbians because men said out loud that hot women kissing was fine. These were the early days of straight men having open lesbian fetishizes. We couldn’t get married. We could get fired for being gay.

For women there was no movement to normalize our natural bodies. I’d spend hours shaving myself smooth. Not wearing makeup was unheard of. Cellulite wasn’t even a word I knew let alone knew was normal. There weren’t a million online resources teaching women that vaginal discharge is normal and I grew up thinking (as did many others) that it was a private shame.

And as far as MeToo stuff? It’s easy to feel defeated in the moment but nobody was using the word ‘consent’ in my day. Men getting women drunk was a joke. Men pushing for sex was a joke. Men calling a woman that had one too many dates or boyfriends a slut was normal. Three of my male friends pinned me down on several occasions and took turns rubbing their dicks on me to completion.

The therapist I told said I “needed to work on my boundaries”. The word rape never even entered my mind. Rape was something a stranger with a knife did. It wasn’t something your best friends did to you and then laughed about. It isn’t something you submitted to because fawn and freeze are real fear responses. No one told me my friend forcing my hand down his pants was abuse because I continued to go over his house, didn’t I? No one told me about red flags or cycles of abuse.

And the older women you told rolled their eyes. What I endured was so mild compared to many other women. Men forcing themselves onto women was just normal.

I can’t tell you what it means to me to see so many young women calling it out. Refusing to stay in a bad situation. Refusing to date entirely sometimes. Women sharing red flags and advice to stay not just safe but thriving.

Don’t get me wrong- the current gender movement is regressive and dangerous. I’m not saying it’ll all work itself out. Activism is constant work but things ARE getting better. They really are, even if sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. 💜

[m0nsterqzzz]

You Drew Stars Around my Scars (Katniss Everdeen x female reader)

summary: you know Katniss struggles to look at the scars she has when she comes home after the games, so you do something to make them a bit more easy to see.

warnings: talks of scars, the games?, gale 🤮 is mentioned at least once

a/n: I was literally so scared to post this but I just reminded myself that this is for fun and anyone who wants to say anything needs to remember that too. I will gladly accept kind criticism but I will not accept crap from strangers. I know it's really short but I wanted to post one of my katniss ones cuz im currently obsessed with the hunger games books. enjoy :) ♡

Katniss lies asleep in bed, unaware that you- her girlfriend- is now getting up and getting ready to go visit your family in the village for a bit. 

You get dressed, and then look at the clock on the wall and decide you have a bit of time to sit back down and read until you have to be on your way. You pick up your recent favorite book on your nightstand and begin reading, but something catches your eye. On Katniss' arm is a long healed scar from her days in the arena. They are all over her upper and lower body, as the capitol didn’t care to get rid of any that were not visible, and it brought tears to your eyes the first time you saw them when she came home.

Of course you knew she had them. In fact, you were forced to watch how she got them during the games. But nothing could have prepared you to see her standing in front of your guys bathroom mirror naked, eyes scanning over her body but still holding the same dead look they had for the few weeks before this. She hadn’t seen you in the mirror but turned around when she heard a gasp, still on alert after everything she went through. You didn’t say anything else about the healed wounds, but you did pull her into a tight hug as if she would leave once again if you even dared to loosen your grip.

You gently trace the scar, making sure she's still asleep as you grab a pen from the nightstand. You do your best to be quiet as you reposition on the bed and begin drawing lightly on her skin.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-

About an hour later, Katniss wakes up to the sunlight peaking through the window and onto her face. She opens and then closes her eyes, moving to feel on your side of the bed, only to find cold sheets. 

Her eyes snap open, scanning the room and yelling out your name as millions of possibilities run through her head. The only thing that stops her from grabbing her bow -which now stays underneath the bed at all times- is the little note taped to her stomach. 

Dear my love,

I did not wish to wake you from your sleep as you looked very peaceful. I am off to visit my family in the village and will be back in a few hours. I love you, and take care of yourself.

With much love, 

your girlfriend.

She smiles a bit, but sighs at the thought of you not being here to hold her this morning. She forces herself out of bed with the promise she would take care of herself as you wish, and goes downstairs to make herself some breakfast.

Prim is downstairs at the table, peanut butter sandwich in hand and staring at the book in front of her. She doesn't look up until Katniss speaks. “Morning Prim.” Even then, all she does is send her a small nod and smile. “Oh! your girlfriend wanted me to tell you that she left if you didn't see the note.” Prim says.

You and Katniss began dating when you were 15, and even then you had been friends long before that. You watched Prim grow up and did the best that you could with your equally poor family to help the little girl survive. You and her mother were the only things she had when Katniss volunteered as tribute, and you spent nights stroking her hair as the young girl cried out that it was her fault. You would never tell Katniss this, out of respect for Prim, and the brunette could definitely tell you and her little sister were closer than ever when she came home.

“What's that on your arm?” Prim asks, pointing to the scar on her older sister's belief. Katniss doesn't look, knowing already that there is a large scar there which can usually be covered by her shirt sleeves. “My scar. You know this.” She sighs, reaching up to the top cabinet. Her shirt sleeve goes down a little in the process, and its only then does she realize what her sister is talking about.

All around her scar, are little stars of all shapes and sizes, some colored in, some hearts laying around. She takes a moment to look at it, before she lifts up her shirt to reveal the same thing down to a smaller scar on her side. She lifts up the right leg of her pajama pants, and sure enough, more little drawings along the entirety of her burn scar.

A small giggle leaves her, and it turns into a genuine laugh as she gently traces over the drawings. She turns to Prim, who also has a small smile on her face as she looks at her sister's genuine happiness. It hasn't happened very many times in the past few weeks, and it brings a bright smile to Prim's face at the sight of her genuinely happy sister.

You walk in right at that moment, and Katniss practically leaps into your arms. You stumble at first, but catch her nonetheless and hold her to you tightly. “I missed you.” “I missed you too darling.” Your words make Prim fake gag as she finishes up her sandwich and leaves the kitchen.

The hunter leans back a bit to place a small kiss on her lips, though you have to break away when she is smiling to much to continue. “Katniss Everdeen. What did you do?” You fake gasp. “Did you kill Gale?” She chuckles, rolling her eyes and kissing your forehead with the simple words. “You drew stars around my scars.” You nod in agreement.

 “This is why I love you.” Her words bring a shock to you, having never heard them uttered from that girl to you before. She continues, “I love you so fucking much. You are my whole world and being in that arena……it just proved it.” 

You take a moment to remember how to breathe before quietly telling her as if its a secret only she can know, “I love you to Katniss Everdeen. I love you more than I love anything, actually.” 

Katniss Everdeen is the girl of your dreams. You may not have known it when you were seven and she placed a kiss on your cheek and you blushed beet red, or when you were twelve and she held your hand the entire school day, but you did know it when you were 15, and she brought over what was left of her families' dinner to feed your dying mother. You did know it when you were 16, and Katniss yelled out, “I volunteer as tribute!”. and you knew it when she crashed into your arms two months after that. And you know it now. Part of you has always known you love Katniss. And now you'll spend the rest of your life proving it.

[autisticlee]

the thought of trying to make friends is so overwhelming anymore because it takes so much more work than I have energy for and at this point. but i'm so incredibly lonely and feel horrible every time I see a thing I want to do but either can't do alone or would struggle/not enjoy alone. I need the other person to do more of the work to compensate for my overwhelming autistic exhaustion. I can't be the one that does most or all of the work anymore. i'm experiencing extreme social regression, and I wasn't even good at it to start with. now i'm just incapable. but I want to go places and do things. just not alone 😭 going places alone is very overwhelming and I never have fun or enjoy it. (doesn't matter how much other people tell me they ~/go to/do things alone and have fun~ as if that will make me automatically have fun 🙄)

I need someone else to take the lead and be like "I'll be at your house at 9 be ready we are going to this thing" instead kf me having to plan it all and beg people to go and do all the work and try to get them to be on time and wait for an answer and not get one until it's time to leave and etc. I need to have plans ahead kf time and it stresses me out so much to have to make plans while doing the thing (like not finding a hotel until we are driving there) or someone saying we should do a thing and I tell them to figure it out and let me know but they do not. they expect me to or theybare extremely unreliable and it never happens.

it's too much I cannot do it anymore. I could barely do it before but I only did because i've been desperate for YEARS to have friends and forced myself to do things I couldn't do properly and ended up having a horrible time because I was so stressed out and !!!!!!!!! had to vent sorry. sighs. want friends without the extra work. only normal amount of work at most.

don't think anyone understands what I mean by I do all the work and no one else does anything. I have to always message people first, always carry the conversation because they respond with a few words or not at all. they never reach out first or ask me to do things. I have to make entite plan for everything. they give no input about it when asked. even though I don't know anything and stress out googling frantically and end up with bad plans that don't work right and ruins what we are trying to do. they often they complain about choices I made despite having no opnion before that.

they always say they don't know if they can go and will get back to me. I have to remind them 57483832 times just to always be told they don't know. the day of I am at the place and ask where they are and they are late or say they forgot to tell me they can't make it. or they said yes and cancel last minute. or they'll give a vague answer and end up unable but didn't just tell me and led me on.

or they last minute need me to pick them up. i'm always the driving friend when I honestly shouldn't even be allowed to drive because of my disabilities (I make major mistakes every time I drive and almost get into wrecks every time. surprised i havent....) and my car is old and falling apart and likes to random breaks down, so when it has issues, it adds to my frustration. most people live an hour away and the places we go are 2-6 hours away. i'm falling asleep while driving and they aren't keeping me awake like they promised they would. I'm making mistakes and going wrong ways and they aren't helping navigate me, but point out all the mistakes i do. following GPS on my phone is so hard! I always go the wrong way and take an extra 45 minutes to get places every time. but they don't feel like driving. and they dont care if we dont go. so it's my job to make sure we go and i'm forced to do a dangerous thing i hate and am very bad at.

they make me be the adult when they are more adult than me because they don't have as much a disability or maybe not at all? but they just don't feel like doing it and make me. they can talk to people just fine. I struggle to force out a few words and get misunderstood. I will go without food because I cant order it get food I didn't ask for and hate because i'm misunderstood. they don't help me and don't care that i'm having a meltdown and panic attacks. they think I should just do it alone. I put up with the sensory hell and try to ignore meltdowns as long as I can until they turn into shutdowns and I can't even function anymore and dissociate out of my body and out of the experience. and they have the audacity to say I look like i'm not having fun and get mad at me for being too quiet and not talking to and entertaining them, but won't help me get to a quiet place to sit and recharge. anything that goes wrong is my fault and they don't help. sometimes we get back late and I say they should just stay at my place because it's late and I cant take them home. they beg me to take them home. or if they drove to my house they just leave even though it's 3-4am. they can't wait to get away from me. at the end i'll say we should hang out again and they're like yeah ok, but never talk to me again.

i'm exhausted for a few months after so I can't message them. or anyone else. I feel like it all failed because I had to focus on way too much work and just shut down and dissociated and didn't get to "live in the moment" or enjoy anything at all. and I was boring so I didn't entertain them and they were bored. thinking hanging out with me isn't worth it.

yeah I get it, maybe they also struggle or whatever. maybe they need me to do all the work. but I cannot. maybe it's not *their* fault and they aren't actually being lazy and boring. but the problem is every person I try to befriend is like this. I need friends that ARENT like this! but the people that do the work I do won't be my friend! but I can't do this work anymore! if I DO get someome who does more of the work and let's me follow along, they get annoyed at me for following and being too quiet or awkward or weird and never invite me again.

also, I forgot to mention, I usually have to financially cover everything for them as well. I have to basically pay people to hang out. i've spent THOUSANDS of dollars on people just because I want to hang out and have to bribe them. i'm disabled. I work a part time minimum wage job for my family with my mom. cant get a real job. technically get paid less than I work but they get away with it because i'm powerless. I can barely afford anything and rely on my parents to pay for most basic needs, but can't convince people to spend money for me.

so it's not just "maybe people do this sometimes" or they have reasons for needing me to do all the work and I need to keep doing it. it's every single time!! and I cant keep doing it! but if I don't, I stay alone. I either can't do anything or go anywhere, or I force myself and don't enjoy or remember the experience because my struggling turns into dissociating and brain just shuts down. this leads to dangerous moments where strangers harass and attack me and I cant do anything. i'm not safe alone. but I can't have help or supportive and kind people in my life.

I need someone who is willing to do the work I can't do anymore and do all the work that needs done. i need someone who finds that stuff easy and dkesnt get tired and burnt out from it. I need someone to who keeps coming back and doesn't give up on me. I need someone who doesn't get bored and annoyed that I can't do all the work or act/respond "normal" and doesn't misunderstand me thinking I hate them or something. I need someone I have things in common with and doesn't just small talk or talk at me about stuff I don't care about such as making me their personal therapist since I'm good at listening. I need someone who doesn't get upset that I can't respond correctly or read their mind. I need soneome who enjoys doing things with me more than sitting around and talking. i need someone that let's me be part of things and includes me but doesn't force me to be the center of attention and leader. I need someome thst respects my needs and boundaries and supports me and helps me and doesn't let that push them away and abandon me! why is that too much to ask for???? why is that so hard??

[nabaath-areng]

I don't know how to handle breaking down like this, I was free for a while from the bouts of complete and utter inability to move and react to my environment for between an hour to several hours at a time while my heart and pulse go absolutely haywire, I have barely any energy to keep up a conversation without feeling like I have to disconnect from my body entirely, I feel like all I do these days is despairing over the fact that I don't know what's wrong, that I'm not strong enough to fight for any sort of help and worrying that by the time someone cares enough to look it will be too late for me.

I know full well that I've had the means to recognize when something's wrong completely beaten out of me and it terrifies me to think that I won't be able to distinguish between daily shit vs actual danger. I don't recognize myself, I don't know how to feel normal, my physical breakdown is stealing everything I love from me and I'm starting to lose hope.

My throat hurts so fucking bad because the tears want to explode but they can't cause I've lost almost all ability to show both pain and negative emotion like crying. I'm trying to stay normal, to force myself to do the things I love, but I get so exhausted and I feel like a burden on everyone I know for being a mere shell of my former self. Even when I was broken down from psychosis people told me that I made them laugh. I used to be on the phone with my mom for up to 3 hours every time. Now I can't even read her messages without feeling horrible dread about being unable to mentally conjure up a response.

I'm starting to resent my home even though I love it because it's starting to turn into my prison. At least before I could leave the house and go out. Now I have to debate whether or not it's safe for me to shower half of the time. I fall from the stars more and more often nowadays. I keep passing out and injuring myself, both small dips and full out collapses. My hearing and vision both black out more often than before. My foot is deforming itself, and so is my knee it seems. My thumbs are broken beyond repair. Brain gets so foggy I can't do anything but stare into nothing.

I struggle with speech more and more, language is getting harder, and I struggle more and more in games including FFXIV because I lose all ability to move my hands and grasp what they should do or where they should be or move. I am struggling to keep my composure when upset more than usual or I get so apathetic that the thoughts I get scare me with how uncharacteristically negative they are. One day activity requires several days to recover from.

I keep trying to not talk about it cause I don't wanna burden anyone or make everything about myself to be this, but god it's turning out that way anyway and it's not like I'm even good at pretending that this isn't killing me on a fundamentally soul deep level.

I want to be okay so fucking bad and I want to be happy and I wanna draw and write and play games and talk to and hang out with friends and loved ones and take walks and grocery shop and cook and bake and so much more. I don't know how to not feel useless now that I'm losing the extremely few things I actually had potential with.

Maybe my worth as a person does not lie in my productivity but I guess I'm a bad disabled person then for finding it hard to be happy about losing everything I fought to stay alive for. I don't even know what I'm saying at this point I'm so tired and sad and

I don't know what to do about it and I don't know how to make things better even though I'm desperate to figure something out that doesn't require me to humiliate myself before healthcare providers that scold and berate me for being a stupid autistic hypochondriac tranny addicted to google and benefits. More and more it seems like the most likely outcome is a downwards spiral of this until there's nothing left and every part of me is beyond repair and salvation. A slow and painful demise outside my control. I don't know how to process the possibility that I might not get to live as long as I maybe should.

[theoddcatlady]

My Father in Chains

I remember the first time I met my father.

It was twelve years ago, so I would’ve been eight. It was a hot day, I was enjoying my third popsicle of the afternoon, my friends were hanging out with me, and then I heard the phone ring inside. I didn’t really care to go get it, so it faded into background noise, but I think my mom picked it up on the second or third ring.

A few minutes later, my mom came outside, and for a second I thought I’d forgotten to do some odd chore, she looked so serious. She just cleared her throat.

“Ryan, come inside and get cleaned up. We’re… we’re going to visit your father.”

I didn’t ask questions. I just said goodbye to my friends and went inside. My mom was quiet when I asked more questions, just helping me comb my hair and putting on my best clothing, the clothes I wore when my grandparents dragged me to church on Easter or Christmas. Sure, I knew I had to have a dad. As far as I knew, he’d left me and my mom when I was a baby. He’d never been a part of my life up to this point.

It was an hour’s drive to get there, and when we did, I thought we were entering a prison. Tall wire fencing, armed men guarding the fence. My mom just flashed them her ID and nodded to me in the backseat. One guard didn’t have the social graces to not gawk at me as we pulled into the prison.

The building was made of concrete, and there were no windows. Entering it there were even more guards with guns, each one looked meaner than the last. My mom squeezed my hand so tight I felt she was about to break my fingers. I didn’t complain- I was holding it back just as tight.

A pair of guards escorted us down three flights of stairs, with each step the temperature got colder and colder. There was no decoration on the wall, not a sound was heard other than the buzzing of the fluorescent lights and the sound of my footsteps echoing off the walls.

At the end of it all we were taken into a room with only a metal table and flimsy chairs as furniture. All of these were bolted to the floor. My mom sat me down on the chair. “He’ll be here in a little while, okay? Just be patient,” she said, fiddling with my bowtie.

The door on the other side of the room swung open and another pair of guards walked in, accompanied by the rattle of chains.

I held my breath. Was there a monster on the other side of those chains?

I can hardly say he looked like a monster. He looked like… any other human being, I suppose. Definitely paler, which I think the harsh lighting and his dark hair made him look even more washed out, but he hardly looked deserving of the chains wrapped around his ankles and wrists. He didn’t even struggle as he was led to the chair, the chains strapped to the table legs and floor as he patiently sat on the chair opposing me.

He smiled, and I realized who this had to be.

“… Dad?”

The man chuckled.

“Hello, Ryan. It’s so good to finally meet you. You look… almost like me. I’ve never seen myself in an imperfect mirror before.”

I didn’t really think I looked anything like this pale dude chained to a table, but I wasn’t going to object. I shuffled in my seat and glanced back at my mom. She remained impassive, not looking at my father with distaste or affection.

“Do you like Go Fish?”

I turned back around. I managed to force myself to nod and my father smiled.

“Let’s play some Go Fish. We have an hour, let’s use it.”

One of the guards rested a pack of cards in front of us. My father had just enough leeway for his wrists to allow him to shuffle and deal the cards. He picked up his hand and glanced down at them.

“Now… you have any threes?”

By the end of the hour, I’d not won a single round of Go Fish. I’d never played with an adult that wouldn’t just let me win before, it was a new kind of frustrating. But it was still strangely fun. My father was quiet, but he was never cruel. He could even be described as gentle, never raising his voice, looking at me with such… fondness that I never knew from a father figure before.

I was actually sad when the guards picked up the chains, muttering quietly that visiting hour was over. My father sighed as he stood, glaring at the guard closest to him who flinched and nearly dropped the chain he was supposed to be holding.

“I’d love for you to come visit me again next week, Ryan. Would you mind?”

I heard my mom gasp but before she could respond, I blurted out, “Can I?”

My father smiled and reached forward, gently fluffing my hair. “Of course. I don’t have many other visitors down here. It’s very lonely. Be sure to do your chores and listen to your mother, and I’m sure she’ll bring you back soon,” his dark eyes flicked up towards my mom, “won’t you, dear?”

I turned and watched as my mother took a deep breath, pressing her lips together in a firm line. “… We’ll see.” She hurried over and took my hand, practically dragging me out of the room. In hindsight, it was clear she couldn’t wait to be away from him, but I didn’t know why.

She didn’t try to remind me about going to see my father again, but I remembered. I even got into my Sunday best all on my own, combed my hair. I never combed my hair on my own, not until then. My mom came into my room to see me ready, and she only sighed.

“Come on then. Let’s go see him.”

It became our Saturday tradition. After lunch, I’d get dressed in my nice clothes, I’d go wait in the car, and we’d drive to the prison my father was kept in. My father would be brought into the room, still chained up like some sort of wild animal, and we’d play card games. Go Fish was my favorite, but he taught me how to play Old Maid, War, Crazy Eights, Rummy… for being a kid obsessed with video games, I really appreciated that simple deck of cards and the dozen games my dad knew all the rules to. It was a real celebration when I finally beat him at Go Fish, I ended up leaping off my chair and giving him a big hug. I don’t think he expected that. I’d never touched him before that, he was usually the one giving me a pat on the shoulder or a tousle of my hair. He was ice cold to the touch, but after a moment of shock, he did his best to hug me back.

I wanted nothing more than for him to take his chains off so he could really give me a big hug back, but I knew better than to ask. If he was allowed to have his chains off, they wouldn’t be on him during our visits. But sometimes I’d imagine what it’d be like to go out and have a real father son day, like the rest of my friends got to have. Maybe go to the movies, or to a theme park. Have a real day outside with him, so I could show the world I had a really good dad.

Of course, as I grew older, I realized this wasn’t a normal relationship to have at all. And this wasn’t a normal prison either. Come on now. What kind of prison only has one prisoner kept underground in literal freaking chains? I wasn’t allowed to roam the place, but it only took some craning of my neck to realize there was just no other place down here for someone to be kept.

Why was my dad down there? What did he do that was so horrible that he couldn’t even be let outside for some fresh air? I didn’t know how to ask my mom… but I decided it was best to go straight to the source on this.

I was sixteen. I’d not yet missed a visit with my father, and I still dressed to my best when I went to go see him. You couldn’t force me into anything other than my basketball shorts and hoodies then, unless I was going to see my dad. In which case, suit, tie, combed hair.

I was shuffling the deck for another round of War when my mom left the room to go to the bathroom, accompanied by a guard escort. This was my chance.

“Why are you here?”

My dad cocked his head to the side. “Here, as in the room with you? Or do you mean here in general?”

I gave him a dirty look. “The latter. And you knew I meant that,” I said.

He chuckled.

“I know, I know, I had to tease. Well, right now, it’s convenience. I’m at war myself, you see, and not just with these cards.”

I frowned as I handed him his half of the deck. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“You’ve had enemies, right?” My dad set down a card, and I followed suit. “Some enemies are just… irritating. Like mosquitoes that rise from a swamp, easily swatted, but barely worth the effort in the long run. Then there are enemies that are like wolves. Dangerous, feral, wild beasts, thirsty for blood and hungry for death. My wolf thinks he owns the entire world. I disagree. Unfortunately, after an injury during my war, I was taken here. At the moment, it’s simply convenient to play along. Oh, War.”

I’d not even noticed we had the same number on our cards.

“Convenient? Dad, you’re in prison, chained to a table, like a mile underground, with enough armed guards to blow you to pieces. There’s nowhere you can go.”

When my father smiled, this time I saw the darkness in it. The amusement. I glanced around the room and saw how none of the guards could make eye contact with me.

“Oh, this isn’t my prison. This is my castle. I’ll stay here for as long as it suits me… it does… make it much easier to see you, after all. And I like seeing you.”

Really, what I should’ve taken from this was that my father was possibly delusional given he saw his prison as a castle. What I did take from it was that my dad liked me. Or at least liked to see me.

I would have asked more but my mom came back then, so we just resumed playing War like none of the previous conversation ever happened. Even our goodbyes were just the normal ‘see you next week’ as the guards escorted him back out the other door.

On the way home, I did ask my mom one thing-

“How did you and Dad meet?”

My mom visibly flinched and I knew I asked something she didn’t want to answer. So she didn’t, she just gripped the steering wheel tighter and remained silent the rest of the way home.

She never liked talking about him, my dad. Six out of the seven days of the week, it was like he didn’t exist to her. They never spoke to each other, and whenever my dad referred to her as ‘dear’ she looked ready to sock him in the face, but she kept to her side of the room and just waited for the visiting hour to be over. I didn’t have the nerve to ask her to leave, even though I was clearly old enough that I didn’t need my mom supervising everything I did.

I love my father, I really do. It’s wrong, now knowing what I know, but I love him. So I didn’t ask any more hard questions that I didn’t really want answers to. I just wanted to spend time with my dad.

But last year my mom went to the hospital feeling a little weakness and came back with a breast cancer diagnosis. She tried to seem calm about it, just stated how far along it was and what they’d have to do in order to treat it. But she was scared.

She knew she was going to die.

It was fall, right before she passed away.She was watching reruns of MASH in the living room, lost in thought. I was working on job applications, when she turned the TV off and blurted out, “You need to know something about your father.”

I practically threw my application across the room as I hurried to her side. She gripped my hand tightly and bowed her head.

“The first time we went to go see your father was the first time I’d met him in person.”

My expression must’ve been hilarious, given how my mom actually laughed at it. “It makes sense, honest. My husband… he couldn’t have children. We decided to have someone donate, so we went to the clinic. At the time we thought the donor was a college professor. But when you were born we knew that wasn’t true.”

My mom leaned forward, brushing her hand against my cheek. “Your eyes were black. Pure black. I was so scared… but then you looked like every other baby. I couldn’t forget that though. My husband never recovered from that shock, it’s why he left. He couldn’t stand to be even in the room with you… he said he was seeing things in the shadows. Monsters.”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t exactly call my mom insane, I knew she wasn’t even if she sounded like a complete nutter.

“Ryan, you’re not a normal boy. You’re different. You’ve always been different. A few years before we began seeing him, men in black suits came to the door. They inspected you, explained what you were to me. They said they had your father somewhere where he couldn’t hurt anyone. But they also said that one day they might need my help to keep him locked up in there… earning his cooperation was vital to their success.”

“Is that why you took me to see him?” I asked.

My mom nodded. “Yes. They called me that day and let me know that Soich had requested to see you. That’s his real name, it’s a strange one, I know. I thought it was going to be a one time thing, but he kept insisting I bring you every week… I didn’t want to see him, Ryan. I’ve never wanted to see him. But it was the best way to make sure he didn’t try to escape.”

My head was reeling. It was so much to take in. I sat back in the couch, just trying to make sense of what sounded like complete nonsense.

The only thing I could think of saying was, “Why do they not want him to get out?”

My mom shuddered and looked at her hands.

“… Next time we go to his castle, ask him.”

My mom would never go see Soich again though. By the end of the week she was hospitalized. It was the first time I missed going to see my dad because I was by her side. I didn’t leave it until she was gone.

I knew where the ‘castle’ was, my mom had it plugged into the GPS, but after the funeral was the first time I went by myself. Taking the journey by myself made it all seem even more insane. It was far in the woods, no one could just stumble on it accidentally.

When I flashed my ID at the gate, I should’ve known that the look the two guards exchanged meant nothing but trouble for me.

My father was waiting for me in the meeting room when I got down there, and he was clearly agitated. “Where were you?” He said as he got up, the chains jerking at the table.

I didn’t say anything, I just sat across from him and stared at him.

“Mom’s dead.”

He breathed in sharply before taking a seat. “The cancer?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Damn. I rather liked her.”

“You didn’t even know her,” I blurted out. “She told me… she told me that there was a mix up with the donors. She was never your ‘dear’.”

Soich cocked his head to the side. “Just because I wasn’t intimately involved with her doesn’t mean I didn’t like her. She was a good woman. A good mother for you. I liked her spirit.”

“She told me that you’re a monster.”

I expected him to be… I don’t know, at least annoyed, angry by that. Instead, he just nodded.

“I am.”

“That’s bullshit!” I slammed my fists into the table. I’d never once gotten angry at my dad before then. The only times I came close were when he kicked my ass in cards for the tenth time in a day. “You can’t be… I’m not…”

Soich chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “You really don’t get it, do you?” He leaned in close, close enough to where I could see into his dark eyes.

They flooded with black, and for a moment I felt that fear my mother must have when she laid eyes on me for the first time.

“I’m a king. An unknown king of shadows, and you are my prince. They were just waiting for a chance to get their hands on you, and now you’re here.”

I felt ice cold. I glanced at the guards at the door before I got to my feet.

Both of them pointed their guns at me. The opposing door slammed open and I turned to see more guards entering… with chains just my size. Soich glanced at them before rolling his eyes and getting to his feet.

“Ryan, all you have to do is tell me. Do you want to leave?”

I was scared. Terrified. But when I heard my father telling me that, I knew that he was my only chance.

“Please. I want to go home.”

My father nodded.

“Then go.”

Soich pulled his arms, ripping the chains straight out of the ground, links snapping like twigs. The guards barely got their guns pointed at him when he gripped onto those chains and started slamming them around the room, using them as weapons.

I dove to the ground as the guns began to fire, shielding my head with my arms. I heard my father’s laughter as the guards began to scream, and I lifted my head to see that the chains that once seeminglyheld him down were soaked in blood. Guards crumpled as my father beat them with his makeshift flails, sending them to the ground.

It was when his shadow started to ripple that I clambered for the door. The guards that had been blocking my way were laying far too still on the ground. I looked back one more time to see a clawed hand paw its away out of my father’sshadow, and that was the last I saw of him.

I ran. I ran out of that prison and got in my car, speeding out of those woods so fast I definitely broke the speed limit.

Up until now, I’ve had nightmares that I’d answer the door to men in black suits waiting out there, with chains to hold me down. Whatever they’d do to me in that prison, god, I don’t even want to think about it.

Last Saturday… I decided to go back. I needed to see why they weren’t coming for me. I wasn’t sleeping. I was too scared to even leave my house.

I don’t know what I expected when I turned the corner, but I certainly didn’t expect that the prison would be gone.

The fence is little more than shredded bits of wire, and the building itself is just a pile of rubble. I can’t even get into the basement, even if I wanted to. No guards. No sign of life. Just the remains of a building.

Before I left though, I saw something in the treeline. At first I thought it was a dog, but it was far too large. I felt it watching me, and I felt it hated me.

But it didn’t approach me. It only howled before it bounded back into the forest, and in moments it was like it was never there to begin with.

[daybreakrising]

this will be tagged and everything under a read more, but just to be extra clear:

THIS POST WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR 2.2 STORY.

if you haven't finished it, don't read this until you have. you have been warned.

so i am... underwhelmed by p.enacony as a story

and before i go further, i want to throw out a quick disclaimer bc otherwise i know there will be someone who comes at me for it: i am by no means saying p.enacony is bad. it isn't. there are some truly great elements to both the setting and the story. my issue with it is simply that i struggled to become invested in it, personally

i already touched on this a bit with my thoughts after catching up to 2.1, but i generally don't enjoy the intrigue kind of plots in stories. that's my personal preference, and that's why i'm not sitting here like: OMG IT'S SO BAD- bc it isn't, it's just a genre of plot that i'm never that interested in. we all have our preferences and that's okay

overall, p.enacony & the story has been interesting and engaging. a few too many lengthy dialogue sections where a lot of information is thrown at you in a short time, which i also don't like in anything, a few moments where the story completely lost my interest, but overall, enjoyable, creative, cleverly done

however

AND AGAIN. these are my OPINIONS (and i don't care if you disagree-)

i'm sorry, but i cannot bring myself to care about f.irefly. THAT'S NOT TO SAY i don't enjoy the portrayals the people i follow have, because i do - honestly, you guys are the only reason i have any interest in the character. but CANONICALLY? i do not care. there is just.... nothing there for me

and i'm talking specifically about f.irefly bc they are a key character in this part of the story (and by key, i mean features heavily) - there are other characters involved that i also care nothing about, for example, but are more background players. i don't know if it's the clearly forced romantic implications between f.irefly & MC (i hate the term usually, but, why are we simping so hard????), the fact we were supposed to have any kind of emotional attachment to a character we met for less than an hour before they were 'killed' in front of us, or the unresolved questions i have regarding their involvement in the story, but.... i just don't care

and before anyone dares to even think it: no, this is not just bc i am "salty" about sam. i am actually really intrigued about how the sam/f.irefly thing works, why it is the way it is, etc. "if f.irefly was a guy you wouldn't-" no, shut up, i absolutely would. if we were presented with a male character with the same plot, i would care equally as little for them. why? because there's no emotional investment

i'm not trying to shit on anybody who does love this character. again, this is just my views based on my preferences - if you developed that emotional attachment, then great, go wild with it. i'm sure i care intensely for characters that others don't (see: ratio-). but for me, some of the f.irefly elements of 2.2 just... didn't vibe with me. and maybe i'll have to watch a playthrough again to really get the nuances of the plot settled in my head, but i just. nah. i'm not feeling it at all. i'm going to just trust that the people i follow can continue to build on f.irefly and do better than the canon plot for me

and as for the flashback-type scenes we got between f.irefly and blade? i know what some parts of the fandom are reading from that and i don't agree. to me, there is nothing 'fatherly' about the way he chides f.irefly on trying to go against the script. please stop trying to cram him into a role that doesn't fit him. you can have a 'found family' dynamic without the members of such fitting into 'traditional' family roles. that's not the point. i think f.irefly using that particular model is feeding into this too much - people are only seeing the "cute girl" and nothing more. people need to remember that f.irefly is also sam, who is known for being a stone cold killer. sam, who once held blade down so he could be convinced to join the s.tellaron hunters. this is not a father-daughter relationship vibe at all. please, please get that the fuck away from me.

on a similar note, i really didn't care for that "oops, it was all just a dream!" thing (though i am glad we didn't actually call upon j.ing y.uan for help - that would have felt really cheap to me). i kinda figured something was up when the boss fight was so quick and... well, easy (not that the real one was hard for me - not a brag, i just have some decent fckn units at my disposal & could build harmony TB instantly), but i do really hate the 'it was just a dream' trope, even when it makes sense in the setting that is p.enacony & the dreamscape. it just felt unnecessary to me, almost like they wanted to drag the story out a bit longer and add in another layer to their 5D chess game

so yeah.... elements that i didn't care for, elements i didn't enjoy. p.enacony in general is a bit of a nightmare for me personally due to sensory overload from all the sounds and colours (and please, can we stop with that acid-trip border effect hyv, it's literally giving people migraines-), which also adds to it. it's not the vibe i typically enjoy so i do take that into consideration when expressing my opinions about it. i know a lot of people love p.enacony & i'm happy for everyone who has been invested in it from day one. that's me with the l.uofu, so, i get it

but as i said, overall, great. i loved the sunday reveal, the boss fight was fun to do (though i feel like a.venturine was better & harder-), and my only complaint about harmony TB is seeing that fucking clock in the ult animation every time. the mikhail & misha reveal was also great & confirmed theories i had & the tying-up of the loose 'nameless' ends was nice.

my final gripe is regarding g.allagher and that is entirely bc i have been building hcs based on a theory that proved to be wrong, and i'm like... really sad that there wasn't anything more to it than that. going forward, i'm definitely making him canon divergent here bc i don't like the way his story ended (if it has, though he did imply 'g.allagher' would cease to exist, so...)

but i did find it amusing that 'death' was just a silly little pet dog who got confused sometimes. he's just a lil guy