#the one that was supposed to be filled with my meds yesterday

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at work:

Warehouse Manager, who is the prankster of the office, and after exactly 1 (one) request to be involved in scheming: Hey, so, you know how I hired that one customer service ladies kid? Yeah, he just turned 21 yesterday and was super excited about being able to go to a dispensary. Can you make up a fake drug test?

Me: Oh god, I literally have the perfect form already printed out, like it’s supposed to be for the drivers to go get their med cards renewed, but it’s a whole thing, we do our drug testing at the same facility, company, whatever, it’ll be perfect!

Warehouse Manager: *legit evil giggles* Okay, let me know how it goes!

Me, to the new warehouse kid, in front of all the other warehouse workers who are by now In On It: Hey, so, you’ve been selected for a random drug screening. Here’s the paperwork you need to bring to them, you’ll need to fill in your legal name and social security number right here. The facility is right across the street, but they close at 3 pm so you’ll need to get over there before the end of your shift. *walks the fuck away before I can’t keep a straight face anymore, because that poor kid literally just froze up, like whole body clenching*

Me, after about ten minutes, to Lead Warehouse Guy: Hey, I think it’s been long enough, and honestly if he actually goes over there for a drug screening with that particular form they WILL charge the company and I don’t actually want to get in real, legit trouble…

Lead Warehouse Guy: Yeah, I hear you. Wait here, but keep the serious face on as long as possible.

Lead Warehouse Guy: *gathers up the new kid, takes the paperwork from him, and leads him over to me, I can’t hear anything that they’re saying but he’s obviously being comforting but serious, manly hand on shoulder type stuff, they get real quiet as they get up to me*

Lead Warehouse Guy, very seriously: Brandon, ultimately, what we need you to know right now, is…*rips the paperwork up*…that you’ve been fucked with.

New warehouse kid: *breaks into relieved cackles* OH MY GOD YOU GUYS HAD ME! Oh man, I already texted my mom, holy fuck, oh man, I thought I was SO gonna be fired! Oh thank god ! Whoo! Yes! Okay! All of you suck! I mean, that was good, but holy fuck that sucked!

Me, after I’m done catching my breath: Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry! I really am! I’m so sorry! But it really was funny…I’ll make you muffins or cake or whatever, I’ll bring it in Monday, okay?

New kid, still recovering: Yeah, sure, whatever you want to do? Sure?

[linh-cindy]

An Unexpected Rejection

The scene where Cinder is asked by Prince Kai to be his personal guest at the 126th Annual Peace Ball but she declines- in Kai"s point of view!

Kai was late.

He really needed to see Dr. Erland, but apparently, time wasn't on his side.

He spotted the nearest elevator behind him and as it was about to close, the elevator operator was able to hold it.

"Please hold," the voice announced.

"Sorry, sorry," Kai said to the person inside the elevator, practically slipping into it, "thanks for the hold--"

His voice caught when he saw the person inside.

Linh Cinder was leaning on the elevator wall, arms crossed, and she seemed genuinely shocked to see him standing there.

"Linh-mèi?" Kai blurted out.

She froze. She pushed herself off the elevator wall, something that Kai should have told her not to do and risk her being uncomfortable.

"Your Highness," Cinder muttered quietly, bowing.

Kai could sense the tension radiating off her. He wished he could do something to ease it.

Silence filled the elevator. A minute passed before Cinder spoke.

Cinder cleared her throat. "You should, um, just call me Cinder. You don't need to be so-" She slammed her mouth shut.

Kai's mouth twitched into an almost-smile.

Stop! Act normal! Kai scolded himself.

"All right, Cinder," he said, thankful his voice was steady. "Are you following me?"

Cinder frowned, which made Kai a little guilty he was teasing her. "I'm just going to check on the med-droid," she said. "That I looked at yesterday. To ensure it doesn't have any remaining bugs or anything."

Kai nodded. This was not going well. "I was on my way to talk to Dr. Erland about his progress," he told her to cut the silence. "I heard through the grapevine that he may have made progress with one of the recent draft subjects. I don’t suppose he said anything to you?"

Cinder fidgeted with her belt loops. "No, he didn't mention anything. But I'm just the mechanic."

They didn't say anything after that.

She doesn't know.

The elevator stopped. Kai motioned for her to exit first, then he followed her.

"Your Highness?" said a young woman in front of him. "I am so sorry."

"Thank you, Fateen," said Kai quietly. He kept walking.

Cinder frowned, confused.

Not a dozen steps later, they were halted by a man who also gave his condolences to Kai.

Kai saw Cinder shiver beside him. She stopped.

"You haven't seen the net this morning."

A heartbeat later, Cinder's eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

Kai was surprised, but it faded away easily. He ducked his head. "Good guess."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know-" she stammered frantically, her voice hinting at a million apologies.

Kai tucked his hands into his pockets. "I wish my father's death were the worst of it."

Cinder's eyes clouded over. Was something wrong? "Your Highness?"

Kai turned to look at her. He was getting sick of all these "Your Highnesses". Of course- not when Cinder said it. Wait-

"You can call me Kai," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Excuse me?"

"No more ‘Your Highness.’ I get enough of that from…everyone else. You should just call me Kai."

Cinder seemed momentarily dazed before he continued. She blinked like waking up from a daydream. "No. That wouldn't be-"

"Don't make me turn it into a royal command," he said, smiling.

Cinder scrunched her shoulders up by her ears. "All right. I suppose."

"Thank you," said Kai gratefully. "We should go then."

After a bit of quiet walking, he asked curiously, "What was wrong with the android?"

Cinder scratched at an oil stain on her glove. "Oh, I’m sorry. She’s not done yet. I’m working on her, I swear." She's talking about Nainsi.

"No, I meant the med-droid," said Kai, pushing down the urge to ask more about Nainsi. "That you fixed for Dr. Erland?"

"Oh. Oh, right. Um. It was…it had…a…dead wire. Between its optosensor and…control panel," she stammered.

Kai raised his brow. She was lying.

Cinder cleared her throat as if to clear away the awkwardness. "You, uh, said that something was worse? Before?"

Kai said nothing.

"Never mind," said Cinder, shrugging. "I didn't mean to pry."

Dammit, Kai. You just blew it.

“No, it’s all right. You’ll find out soon enough.” He lowered his voice. “The Lunar queen informed us this morning that she is coming to the Commonwealth on a diplomatic mission. Supposedly," he told her.

Cinder almost tripped, and Kai felt a pang of guilt as she stumbled after him. "The Lunar Queen? You can't be serious."

“I wish I weren’t. Every android in the palace has spent the morning taking down every reflective surface in the guest wing. It’s ridiculous—like we have nothing better to do.”

“Reflective surfaces? I always thought that was just superstition.”

“Evidently not. Something about their glamour... It doesn't really matter."

“When is she coming?”

“Today.”

Cinder looked horrified.

“I’ll be making an announcement in half an hour," said Kai.

“But why would she come now, when we’re in mourning?��

Kai smiled grimly. “Because we’re in mourning.”

He stopped.

Shoot, Nainsi.

Kai turned toward Cinder nervously. “Look, I really appreciate your helping with the med-droids, and I’m sure the best mechanic in the city has a million jobs to prioritize, but at the risk of sounding like a spoiled prince, could I ask that you move Nainsi to the top of your list? I’m starting to get anxious about getting her back. I—” He paused long enough to catch the anxiousness in Cinder's face. “I think I could use the moral support of my childhood tutor right now. You know?” He wanted her to know he was lying. He needed to let her know he was lying. Lying for something far more important than childhood attachments or moral support.

Understanding flashed across Cinder's grease-coated face. “Of course, Your Highness. Sorry, Prince Kai. I’ll take a look at her as soon as I get home.”

Kai would have hugged her.

Oh, Cinder, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Kai stomped down his ridiculous thoughts and gestured at a door that had Dr. Dmitri Erland's name labeled on it.

As soon as they entered, Erland leapt to his feet. "Your Highness--I am so sorry. What can I do to help you?"

“Nothing, thank you,” said Kai. Then he reconsidered. "Find a cure."

“I will, Your Highness.” He pulled his hat on. “Of course I will.”

Cinder looked at Dr. Erland and guilt immediately clouded her eyes after a few seconds.

Kai cleared his throat. “I found your pretty new mechanic down in the lobby, and she tells me she’s here to check on the med-droids again. You know I could get you funding for some upgraded models if you require it.”

Oh shoot shoot shoot, did I just call her pretty? Kai thought furiously. What was I THINKING, oh SHOOT.

He willed himself to ignore her.

“No, no, they only needed a touch of maintenance,” said Dr. Erland, reassuringly. “Nothing to worry about, and I would hate to have to program a new model. Besides, if we didn’t have any malfunctioning androids, what excuse would we have for asking Miss Linh back to the palace from time to time?”

Kai saw Cinder glare at the doctor from the corner of his eye, and he couldn't help smiling.

“Doctor," Kai started, “I heard a rumor that you’ve made some sort of a breakthrough in the past few days. Is it true?”

Dr. Erland seemed as if he could slap anyone who started the rumor, but so far he seemed calm. “My prince, you should know better than to ask after rumors like that. I hate to give you hope before I know anything concrete. But when I do have solid information, you will be the first to see the report.”

“Right. In that case, I’ll leave you be and hope to see a report cross my desk any day now.”

“That could be difficult, Your Highness, considering you do not have a desk.”

Kai shrugged, unprovoked, and turned toward Cinder. "I hope our paths will cross again." He bowed his head a little.

"Really?" asked Cinder, grinning quite stiffly. "In that case, I guess I'll just keep following you."

Regret shined in Cinder's eyes for half a breath before Kai laughed.

Kai took Cinder's hand before he could stop himself. Panic crossed her face as he lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on it.

Kai let go of Cinder's hand and bowed, exiting the room.

Then he got an idea.

An idea so crazy, it just might work.

"Gracious," whispered Dr. Erland as Kai opened the door.

“Pardon me, but might I have one more brief word with Linh-mèi?”

Dr. Erland gestured toward the mechanic. “By all means.”

Kai turned to her, still in the doorway. “I know this sounds like very poor timing, but trust me when I say my motives are based on self-preservation.” He inhaled a sharp breath. Please let this work. “Would you consider being my personal guest at the ball?”

Cinder froze for four heartbeats and a half. Her eyes were big and scared.

Kai waited.

And waited.

Then he raised his brows to catch her attention.

She blinked. "E-excuse me?" she stuttered.

"I assume you are going to the ball?"

“I-I don’t know. I mean, no. No, I’m sorry, I’m not going to the ball.”

The hope rushed out of Kai in a millisecond.

SHOOT.

“Oh. Well...but...maybe you would change your mind? Because I am, you know.”

"The prince," Cinder completed for him.

"Not bragging," Kai blurted out, feeling sweat trickling at the back of his neck. "Just a fact."

"I know."

After a long moment, Cinder said, “I-I’m sorry. Thank you—I… thank you, Your Highness. But I must respectfully decline.”

Kai took a moment to process what she said. Once he did, he attempted a grin that hurt his face muscles. “No, it’s all right. I understand.”

In truth, he didn’t.

Hell, she was probably in love with someone else.

“My sincerest condolences, Your Highness,” said Dr. Erland. Kai nearly forgot he was there. “In more ways than one, it seems.”

Cinder glared at the doctor. Kai found it cute when she narrowed her eyes at him, scrunched her eyebrows and pressed her lips together.

Kai blinked a few more times to clear his head of that ridiculous thought.

“It was nice to see you again, Linh-mèi,” said Kai.

The look of annoyance was peeled off Cinder’s face and was replaced by panicked apology, but Kai couldn’t stand a second longer in there. Her mouth was just opening when Kai wrenched open the door and closed it behind him quietly.

Kai leaned against the wall beside the door to Dr. Erland’s office and dragged a hand down his face. “Stars,” he breathed. How could he be so foolish?…

Kai heard the doctor’s faint voice through the wood.

“What a shame you cannot blush, Miss Linh.”

Overwhelmed and exhausted, Kai cleared away his confusion at the doctor’s statement.

Can my life get any worse?

Tags:

@kaider-is-my-otp

@cerenoya

@just2bubbly

@impossiblesuitcase

@thetlctrash

@opakitty

@winterrhayle

@cindersassasin

[thepalaceofmelanie]

Martell Week: Character of the Day: Elia Martell

Tag list: @adriennegabriella @morby @wingsoftheangels @candycanes19 @tashastrange89 @elvinaa

(A/N: Going an AU route with this one. As someone who like Elia has, chronic illness; I wanted to write something on this. I’m not planning on having this as a self-insert but I’m basing certain things off my issues. Character won’t be named or described.)

TW: Medical talk, wanting to give up (not the hard S, you two are just tired.), mention of cheating and death.

Song inspired: “Aerith’s Theme” from Final Fantasy VII

Character of the Day: Elia Martell

__

“Elia, how are you?” I asked.

It was shockingly a good energy day for us both. We found ourselves at a Tim Hortons having something to drink. The smell of the mocha ice capp filled my noise, made sure to have extra chocolate in it.

“Hey you, I’m okay today. How about yourself?” She asked in returned.

The weather was warm, so at least our anemia won’t start making it cold for us. Elia took a sip of her iced tea and I could see she was trying to smile through a storm in her body. Both of us born premature, but our conditions differ a lot.

“To be honest, I’m just tired of it all. I don’t want to die, but I just want to sleep till they make a cure for everything. I can’t regulate my thyroid; I’ve only done it once… so now the Endo, thinks I have not just Hashi’s, not just hypo, but also hyper! Honestly, between the medication, the blood work, the side effects, and everything, I just…”

“I understand, and then when they tell you “it’s going to be okay.” a part of you feels like they’re lying. They don’t understand what people like me and, you go through every second of our lives. Then again, we don’t understand either. So, the point is moot.”

Elia, she must have had a rough morning though with the kids; she didn’t even braid her hair like she normally would.

“How’s Rhaenys and Aegon? I’m guessing their Father is watching them?”

Meaning Rhaegar, I don’t like using his name or talking about him. I mean he cheated on Elia, how does someone forgive that?

“Yes, he is. It’s his day to have the children anyways. So I guess it works out for me.” She semi-chuckled.

“Your heart?” I asked.

Elia’s eyes tried to give some spark of hope; I knew it was bad news.

“They still don’t know what’s going on. They tried an echo-cardiogram but they found nothing. I nearly dropped to the floor twice yesterday.”

Yikes!

They really need to find out what’s causing this and soon. I’m worried she’s going to hit her head and those children won’t have their Mom around. I feel her take my hand in hers, I could see her trying to hold back tears.

She’s scared.

I don’t blame her one bit.

“All I feel that I can do is say that “I’m sorry” but honestly, we both got to be fed up hearing that phrase. I don’t know what I can do for you to be okay as best as you can feel.”

“Just still be my friend. Knowing I’m not alone, helps at times.”

I nodded, if that’s what it takes, I can try. She knows we can’t make promises; some of us just can’t keep them. If we do, nine-times out of ten, we have to cancel last second. For us just to meet together today was a big thing.

We both drink our drinks in silence.

Moments past, the sounds of the shop filled our ears; the smell of the cafe woke people up and the two of us were thinking of what to say next.

Both of us probably already wanting to go back to sleep.

“What was your panel?” She asked.

“My T4 was normal, it’s the TSH was high. About 36.88.”

“How do you feel though?”

“Believe it or not, I’m fine. I feel “normal” I suppose. I’m not tired or losing hair any different or whatever else. I just been having a hard time eating and honestly taking the meds at times.”

“Please tell me you didn’t cause this.”

“Why my thyroid is effed? I can’t tell you anymore, I don’t know. I’m more worried about my mental health half the time.”

Elia squeezed my hand lightly, trying to get me to smile. I can’t smile at this, the fact that my body is ill like this and I’m not sure if I’m at fault or not, really does suck.

“Yours?” I asked.

“It’s a little under but I hope the new dosage helps.” She smiled.

“Yeah, for sure, you need your energy basically watching over the children. At least Oberyn and Doran are helping as well. They’re both good men.”

“I do love my brothers, Oberyn though is my favorite; out of all my family, he supports me the most.”

I felt a pang of envy in my heart, her family loves and cares about her. My Father...not so much at times. It took him years to believe in my depression and anxiety. Elia could tell something was wrong, her facal expression showed it.

Sorrow…

“I’m fine, I’m honestly happy for you. It just sucks that not everyone’s accepting like Oberyn and Doran are.”

“I agree with you; just because your Father doesn’t see your illnesses doesn’t mean it’s not there. It’s real just like us, it exists like us, but it haunts us.”

We both pause, feeling like time stopped. We both finished our drinks and tossed them into the trash, before sitting back down.

“Will you be alright?” Her voice cut gently.

“I will be, I’m just used to it by now. I’ve had certain issues from a young age and the thyroid didn’t get put on paper till a few weeks before my fifteenth birthday. Picture this, you get home from a wonderful vacation with your Father; you go into the doctors and they tell you, you have this issue and basically you’re stuck on meds forever, it messes with everything in your system. Seriously, this sucks, but I’m just so used to it by now; what people say to me doesn’t even phase me anymore.”

Elia didn’t say anything. I could tell she was taking in what I had said.

“But you’re here, you’re dealing with it.”

“So are you.”

She’s right…

We are.

“Your hopes and dreams matter, of course I could go into the whole “Life gets better” and such, but we don’t always want to hear it. That’s fine...do you remember how I asked if we could both do this thing? That list about reasons to keep going.”

“Yeah, I wrote mine on my phone.”

I take my phone out and go to note pad. I noticed she took out her notebook and sat it in front of her. She asked me to list at least three things before we met next, I guess we were both able to do it.

“Okay we’ll trade off. I’ll go first. First reason to keep going is to love my children and be a good Mother.”

“That’s a real sweet one. Okay first reason to keep going, to find a partner.”

I blushed, but I’m lonely. It didn’t matter if it was platonic or romantic at this part; but I knew that would be years later. I have to work on myself first.

“Second reason is to support my brothers when they’re dealing with something.”

“Elia, c’mon, you could have had the first one just be “family” and called it a day!”

The two of us laughed; she knew I had a point, but we both did need the laugh. I’m thankful for her friendship. Elia was always that person who would pour her heart and soul into life; she truly loved her family.

Damn you, Rhaegar, you fuck up.

“Reason two, to kick the ever living crap out of Rhaegar. Listen, if he wasn’t happy, he should have just told you and do something about it. That’s not right what he pulled; did he even ask for an open marriage or whatever before you found out?”

There’s nothing wrong with polyamory, open marriages, ect, but for the love of the gods!

“No, he didn’t. To say the least Oberyn and Doran want to throw hands,” Elia laughed. “Okay, seriously, last reason. To actually have a good life.”

Honestly, that was a reasonable thing. It would be hard but you know, sometimes we don’t know what life has planned for us. I just hope she doesn’t see her last sunrise before achieving this. With being chronically ill, it’s like our bodies are time bombs, depending on what’s going on with the person. With my thyroid issue, my thyroid is slowly dying because the white blood cells are attacking it.

“Yours?”

Oh right…

“To see my favorite band in concert for the third time.”

I could see her smile at that; to her it was a good one. The rest of the time, we talked; we talked about old memories, we cried, laugh and just tried to live for the moment. But little did I know was…

This would be the last time I’d see Elia.

[luckywolfsbane]

Bro and I are having VERY different days.

Generic adderall has been on back order for at least a week or more all across the city. We're moving and struggling through withdrawal bc they ran out of adderall in the pharmacy when we needed to refill.

I pushed myself too hard and triggered my physical disability to flare up. I am flat on my back, lying beside my cane in case I need to get up and go. My mental function is muddy. I can't make plans worth shit. Existence is overwhelming, and I want to cry on the daily. No amount of caffeine will sustain function. No amount of pain meds will make my body not hurt at a baseline of 5 to a spike of 8 today. I am buckled in on the struggle bus, and it's driving 90 down a one lane road. I have a drs appointment today. And I only just remembered it. I am screaming internally.

Bro got his meds filled yesterday by a miracle. He didn’t notice, however, that the pharmacy gave him two doses HIGHER than his prescription by mistake. Everything has been on back order, so it was a stroke of luck he got anything, but the difference is excessive. He's casually fielding phone calls, doing Sudoku puzzles, and solving issues with computer code all at the same time because anything less is not enough stimuli for how fast he's moving.

He is VERY sweet today, too. Which, if anyone remembers Bro's typical behavior, you know that's a major shift. On his meds, he's nicer and comes off more how he THINKS he does. On the accidental dose, Bro is suddenly empathetic and gentle. He can't shut up to save his life, but he's being so kind that no one can be mad at him for it. He's suddenly playing 3D chess against my Go Fish game, and it has made him more patient somehow. But that doesn't mean he's getting more done than me. Idk what he'd doing, but it isn't what he's supposed to be doing.

[acidmatze]

I’ll be there for you (Yes, like the Friends theme) Chapter 5

Summary: After being in a coma for two years Vash wakes up, not being able to remember Anything that has happened since he was “a teenager”. How is he gonna adapt to living in a world so strange and unfamilliar? (vaguely TriStamp timeline post ep 12) By finally leaving the hospital and entering his Rehab arc Warnings: None this time Word count: 4.4k Chapters: 1 2 3 4

How did this week pass by so fast?

Vash feels like it was basically yesterday that he woke up to this strange world.

And now he's already standing outside, Karina next to him, waiting for the van that's supposed to bring him to the rehab place.

He's bringing several bags with him. Two of them filled with the new clothes he got the other day.

It is still somewhat dark outside, the suns barely grazing the horizon so its also really cold. Vash can see his breath when breathing out.

He's wearing his new jacket. It's black with red arrows going zig zag from the top left to the bottom right.

One small bag is full of his electronics stuff.

Last Friday Karina suddenly brought him a phone as well.

And another one is filled with hygiene stuff like shower gel and shampoo and towels and lotion to put on his scars when they ache and of course toothbrush and toothpaste and other necessities.

His new meds are in there as well.

On Thursday Dr. Nichols did a whole battery of tests with him.

Among other things testing his working memory and attention.

He then concluded that Vash has ADHD, whatever that was. From what Vash gathered it has to do with his focus and emotional regulation and such.

Vash also spend a lot of time filling out official-looking papers to get an ID and everything sorted out. And a bank account.

„Its so cold... I hope that van is coming soon.“ Karina complains while rubbing her arms.

„Its gonna get hot soon enough, just wait.“

„I'd rather not Wait.“

Other cars are approaching and picking people up or letting people out near constantly. Seems like Mondays are very busy for hospitals.

An ambulance rushes past, sirens blaring.

„I'm gonna call the place if no one's here in 5 minutes!“ Karina declares.

Then a small white minivan drives up to the two and stops.

It would look suspicious if it wasn't for the sticker on the car with a flock of pigeons flying on it, reading „Dove's Wings bus service, car 12“

The driver lets the window down.

„Hey, are you Vash?“

„Yup, that's me.“

The engine stops and the driver gets out to open the trunk.

„I'm Marcel. Put your bags in here. Before I drive you to the dorm I have to stop by the gas station real quick, hope you don't mind.“

„That's fine...“

It's a bit cumbersome to haul the heavy bags into the trunk with only one hand.

Luckily Marcel realises this quickly and helps.

He's a short rather gruff-looking guy with a light buzzcut and pale skin. Vash easily towers over him.

Which is still a really weird experience.

After all, the majority of his Lived Experience Vash was shorter than others.

Even as a teenager everyone else was much taller than him. When did he hit such a giant growth spurt?

Vash climbs into the van next to Marcel.

Karina waves at Vash.

„I will call you in the afternoon when my shift is over, okay? And I will definitely visit you on the weekend. You can't get rid of me.“

Vash chuckles weakly and also waves at his new friend.

„Girlfriend?“

Vash whips around.

„Huh? What-? No! Just a.. a regular friend.“

„Cool, cool.“

Marcel starts the motor and off they go.

Then he turns the radio on.

Vash has no idea about music much, even though Karina did her best to introduce him to as many bands as she could. He does vaguely recognise the singer as someone Karina likes.

Its a nice unoffending voice with nice unoffending guitar. Nothing that Vash would listen to in his free time though.

Then Marcel lights up a cigarette and offers the cigarette pack to Vash.

„Do you smoke?“ „Uh.. no, thanks.“

„Good for you. Don't start. Its a waste of money. How old are you?“

„153.“

Marcel barks out a laugh.

„Good joke!“

„28 then.“

„Seriously? You don't look a day over 19 or something. You got a serious case of baby face, my guy.“

„Yeah... I've heard that quite often.“ Vash lies.

He hasn't heard it at all but feels like this is the appropriate response.

They are driving through what seems to be the oldest dictrict of the city.

It seems to be emulating ancient 17th century central european architecture but Vash can't say how accurate it is.

Shops on the ground floor, apartments on top all crammed next to each other.

And so many people outside already, even though it is still early in the day.

„It's not winter yet so school and work still start at 6, so most of the work can be crammed in before it gets hot.“ Marcel explains, as if he can read Vash's thoughts.

„And in winter?“

„Eh... 7-8ish. No mid-day break either but instead everyone can go home earlier overall. Allegedly on Earth seasons actually meant something in many cultures but here it only tells you when the suns will rise and set. Except for fall. If it rains then it rains in fall.“

Rain.

Vash only has seen rain once so far in his life.

He was so excited he immediately ran outside and Brad dragged him back inside the ship and scolded him for getting the floor muddy.

It rained hard for maybe half an hour and then it was over. Within an hour the sand was back to its usual dry and hot state and everything carried on as if it hadn't rained at all.

What Vash had witnessed relatively often though were dry thunderstorms.

Now the scenery is changing.

The road gets broader and now has two lanes in each direction. The buildings become more modern and brighter, to deflect the suns.

Then they turn right into a smaller street again, probably now entering a more residential area.

The buildings that previously were all at least three to four stories tall are now getting smaller and less dense. Small shops line the road here and there.

Apartment buildings turn into row houses and then slowly into small family homes.

They pass a small park and Vash stares at the large lusciously green trees.

Then more houses. Kids waiting at a bus stop.

It's so weird to see a place like this. So full of life. Full of people doing their thing.

Not hanging by a thread.

They enter a slightly wider road again and a little later Marcel stops at the gas station.

„I'll be back in a minute. You want some snacks? I can get you some.“

„Uh... some chocolate bars? But no white chocolate or coconut.“

Marcel lets out a small grunt in acknowledgement.

„Alright. You get the kiddie chocolate.“

The van door slams shut.

Kiddie chocolate...

Vash watches Marcel while he recharges the car's battery. Its weird that „gas station“ is a word that's still so widely used even though almost no vehicle on this planet uses gas.

Its most likely a leftover from Earth English.

Vash watches the scene outside.

Some more kids and teens, probably on their way to school.

People on bicycles. Many many cars.

It is still so weird to Vash to see this many people in one place. He can't imagine the scope of the entire city.

What little distance they have covered so far already feels incredibly large to him.

Do the people who live here even know how harsh the desert is? Being here is so incredibly different from the ship.

Vash can barely believe he's still on the same planet.

Has Nai ever been in a city as well? Where even is he now? And will Vash ever see him again?

Well, he probably already has but can't remember.

But before he has the time to ponder about this more, Marcel returns.

He dumps a few chocolate bars in Vash's lap.

„Sorry they only had coconut and white chocolate.“

For the fraction of a second Vash is inclined to believe the man but before he can embarrass himself he realises it's a joke.

„Guess I have to puke all over the van then.“

„If you clean it, be my guest.“

The ride continues in silence, except for the radio.

Vash opens the packaging of the chocolate and starts eating.

He didn't eat anything at the hospital this morning, he was way too nervous.

Its nougat, the chocolate.

Which is good because Vash really likes that. He opens the second bar and basically shoves it in his mouth with one go.

Marcel lets out a snort but doesn't say anything.

„I haven't eaten anything yet.“

„I'm not judging. Just laughing. You don't behave like an adult.“

There it is.

Vash almost shrinks into his seat.

Then how is an adult supposed to to behave? He hasn't figured that out yet.

He was about to open the third bar but lets it drop back into his lap instead. Suddenly he doesn't feel hungry anymore.

There's no way he's gonna fit in anywhere like this.

But it's not like he can help it, dammit!

Some part of him is still 15 and it will probably take a long time until that changes.

„Hey kiddo, why are you crying?“

Huh?

Vash pulls out a tissue from his pocket and blows his nose.

„I don't like being told that I don't behave like an adult. I know I don't. I can't change this.“

Marcel nods.

„I wasn't making fun of you, you know? If I would then i would have the wrong job. I drive people around who can't get into this van without help. Who can't fasten their seatbelt. Whose pants i have to pull up before they get in cuz they don't know how to use their belts after going to the bathroom. Who don't even realise when they need to go to the bathroom so sometimes they pee their pants during the ride. I also drive people around who don't talk. Who talk too much. Who talk a whole lot but not very well. Who say the same word over and over. I'm not judging anyone. My ego isn't blown up like that.“

„Will I meet them?“

„Eventually I suppose. But you're mentally ill so you live in a different section of the grounds. You'll meet them at work then. I also drive people like you around. Plenty.“

Vash can't imagine people like this. Luckily soon he wont have to use his imagination anymore but will experience it in real life.

They are back in a residential area. Small apartments and houses everywhere.

„We're there in a second. Look here's the convenience store. You wont have to walk far to get there. Just down this road. There's a bus stop. That line will take you directly to the old town, where we started out. Maybe not the most exciting part of the city but there are many nice small shops and cafés. And the biggest cinema in the city is there as well, in case you like movies. I think your group will go there from time to time.“

They make another right turn and Vash recognises this street from the photos.

They have indeed arrived.

Marcel parks under a tree in front of a wide two story tall red brick building.

There is a dark-skinned woman with glasses and long black hair waiting outside.

Vash and Marcel get out the van and Marcel shakes the woman's hand.

„Morning Nancy.“

„Good morning Marcel. I see you brought our new resident?“

„Yeah, that's Vash. Vash, that's Nancy.“ Nancy walks towards Vash and eagerly shakes his hand as well.

„Hi, I'm Nancy. I'm the leader of the group you will live in. Everyone will be so happy to meet you. Two weeks ago half of the group moved out into a different dorm and since then it has been way too quiet. Let me help you with your bags.“

The bags, that Marcel unloaded in the meantime.

He nods at Nancy.

„Well then. You got everything under control here. I'll go then and pick up the daycare patients.“

Nancy turns to Vash and basically beams at him.

„Let's take your bags inside first so I can show you your room and then we have to return to this building for a bit to do all the administrative stuff. Do you have any issues with walking?“ „Nah, just my left arm that's not doing so hot.“

„Great! I mean, that you can walk. Not that you lost your arm. Cuz we will have to walk a bit to your dorm. It's further down the road and then we turn left.“

They pass two other buildings, one to the left and one to the right.

The one on the left looks a bit like a school but smaller than what Vash had seen previously. But it has a schoolyard and a small playground and all.

The building to the right looks rather plain with chipped beige walls and a flat roof. The windows are just a tad bigger than the air conditioning unit on the wall.

„Villa Marigold“ says a blue sign outside.

„That doesn't look like a Villa...“ Vash mumbles and Nancy starts laughing.

„Well, we can't exactly call it Hut either, right? It will get renovated soon though.“

Hopefully it will get some bigger windows then. And a new coat of paint.

Another similar building is standing next to the „Villa“ but this one Does have a more colourful appearance. Its painted in a light blue colour and someone drew a flock of doves over the entrance.

They make a left turn just when Vash has spotted something looking suspiciously like a greenhouse far down the street.

„Wait! Is that a greenhouse?“

He points at it.

„Oh? Yeah it is. Good eye! We don't have time to go and look at it now but since you're gonna live here now you can go and look at it whenever you to from later on. You could also work there if you want. Do you like plants?“

Does he likes plants? „I... I have no idea. But I've never seen a greenhouse or.. many plants at all. So I'm just curious.“

„That's fine. Its good to be curious about things. Keeps your brain sharp.“

Sadly Vash feels his brain is as dull as a 6 hours math lesson.

Or the edge of a paper tissue. Depending on what meaning of „dull“ you have in mind.

The dorm they now enter is three stories tall and has a slightly sloped roof, unlike the majority of the other buildings which all have flat roofs.

It is painted slightly off-white and the paint looks new as well.

The stairway looks old and made of dark wood. Their steps echo slightly.

Nancy opens a yellow heavy-looking door.

„Fire-proof doors“ she explains „Your room will also have one. Almost all doors in the dorms are like this so get used to having to push a little harder.“

They are now standing in a large hallway with windows to the yard outside to the right light grey carpet and the walls are painted in a very light peach colour.

Paintings that look very much like the people living here painted them are everywhere on the walls.

Around the door that seems to be leading to the kitchen is a flower mural.

„Okay your room is number 105 so we go left.“

The room doors look like they are made of light wood but since they are supposedly fire-proof that can't be true.

They are probably painted to look like wood or something, Vash muses.

There's a little nook with armchairs and a very cozy-looking couch as well.

Vash hears two girls' voices from the staircase on the other end of the hallway, leading upstairs to the third floor.

„Have you seen Joe during assembly? He looked like he was about to fall asleep again.“

„Yeah I tried waking him up for breakfast earlier but he didn't wanted to open the door. I told him on Saturday not to drink so much when we went to club but of course he didn't listen.“

„Sounds like a killer hangover.“

„Totally. Anyway, we should hurry and get the kitchen cleaned up before someone complains again.“

They walk in the opposite direction as Nancy and Vash.

Nancy stops in front of room 105.

„Okay this is your room.“

She digs in her pocket and pulls out a small key which she then hands to Vash.

„And this is your key to the room. You will also later be given a key for the front door downstairs but our director hands those out, not us. Not every resident has one mind you. We got some troublemakers we can't just let come and go as they please. But don't worry about that.“

Vash opens the door.

He doesn't know what he expected his room to look like but certainly not like this.

Probably more like a hospital room?

This room is fairly large but mostly empty except for a desk with an office chair, an armchair made out of bast, a closet, a large mirror, a bed and a nighstand.

The floor is laminate made to look like wood in a similar shade as the door.

The curtains look rather heavy and have an old-fashioned plaid pattern on them.

The walls are white but not clinical-looking and overall the room is open and bright.

There's a door, probably leading to the bathroom.

Vash puts all of his bags down next to the bed and walks around the room once.

Yes, the door does indeed lead to a small-ish bathroom.

„I know this looks rather dull and empty. You can get your own furniture and rugs and put anything on the wall that you like but if it has to be hung on a nail then ask us first. Though I would advise you to wait a month or two with playing interior designer.

So we can determine how long you will be staying in this room. Would be annoying if you had to move just when you got cozy in here and then find out you can't fit all your furniture in the new room.“

Then they leave for the admin building.

But on the way down Nancy runs into a colleague who informs her that the person they want to talk to is actually right now in This building in the office section so they walk back up.

„Well I guess I show you the admin building at another time.“

They go back up the stairs but this time turn right in the hallway.

A guy with spiky red hair is mopping the staircase at the end.

In contrast to the one they just walked up this one is much newer and almost looks like its made of something like rubber?

Vash can't tell what material it is but it has some big anti-slip nubs on the steps.

Nancy taps the guy on the shoulder who takes his headphones off.

„Hey Paul, is Mr. Friesen in his office right now?“

„Uh... Yeah but he's in a meeting.“

The guy, Paul, nods at Vash.

„Are you new?“

„Yeah I just... I just moved in.“ „Cool, cool. Don't mind the ghost.“

Vash winces.

„A ghost??“

Paul shrugs.

„I dunno I haven't seen it either but a few guys upstairs say they have seen one here. Like, they wanted to talk to a counselor and it looked like someone was in the office cuz they saw a shadow in the glass but when they got closer it vanished. I think it's rubbish but figured I should warn you.“

Nancy chuckles.

„I don't believe it one bit. You know how they are upstairs. Sometimes they get bored and cook up some Scary Stories to tell the younger peeps.“

Seems like some really funny people are living here.

Maybe Vash wont stand out that much after all.

They continue walking.

„Okay if Mr. Friesen is not available right now then I will show you the rest of the dorm.“

The next hallway is overall darker than the one Vash's room is in. Obviously, because this one doesn't have any windows but doors to each side, most likely leading to the other people's rooms.

There's a ping pong table standing right in the middle of the hallway.

That seems a bit stupid and dangerous to Vash but also very funny.

One door is open and Vash can look right into someone's room.

To prevent the door from slamming shut a stool was put in front of it.

The person who probably belongs to this room is sitting in a beanbag in front of a TV and plays a video game.

Loud music is blasting out into the hallway.

„Are you just allowed to do that?“ Vash asks.

„Do what?“ „Play loud music with the door open.“ he clarifies.

„Sure. It's not like people are sleeping right now. At least, they shouldn't be. This is group 2. You are in group 1 and upstairs is group 3. This is a mixed use building so on the ground floor is the daycare. Daycare means they live off grounds and are brought here every morning and get picked up in the evening. The majority of them are seniors or people otherwise not able to work in the workshop. Usually we don't run into each other a lot.“

They walk past the kitchen.

„We cook our own lunch here. Each group has a kitchen and two people are doing the cooking together. They also plan the grocery shopping which we are doing.. actually right now. That's why no one's in there. Each Monday we take the big van and drive down to the store to get most of the things needed for the entire week. Sometimes we also do this on Fridays again cuz we also cook together on the weekends. At least when enough people stay here over the weekend. The majority of the time though almost everyone leaves to go to their parents or visit friends. You are also free to do that of course.“

There is yet another staircase at the end of this hallway that they take upstairs to look at group 3 as well.

Nothing much is different here except that they have a foosball table in the hallway. There is also a big room with huge windows and the wall to the hallway is glass as well.

Nancy explains that this is the assembly room but sometimes they also do other therapy things in there. Another room up here that the other groups don't have is the computer room. Everyone is free to use the computers if they don't have their own.

And back downstairs they go.

Mr. Friesen got done with his meeting in the meantime so now it's time for even more paperwork.

Meeting Mr. Friesen and getting all the paperwork done took an hour and now Vash's head is swimming.

He wishes he would get a break now but unfortunately the day is just beginning.

The weekly schedule he has in his hand says that before lunch he will meet his psychologist. After lunch his physical therapist. Later in the evening there's a nordic walking group but Vash has no idea what that is. There's a note telling him that's outside though.

He walks next to Nancy who is taking him back to his room.

„Saverem, huh? I was told you can't remember your family name. Did you remember or...?“ „Mom's family name. Well, not literally Mom but.. kind of... I don't know who my actual mom is.“

„Well, now it's also your name. So now you're her son for real.“

Her son for real...

He can't dwell on that because as they pass the kitchen someone from in there is shouting: „Hey! New guy! Come here for a bit!“

Nancy grabs Vash's arm and drags him into the kitchen.

„Well, well, well that's a great opportunity to meet the rest of the group! Hello everyone, this is Vash! Say Hi to Vash.“ „Hi Vash.“ the small group of four people parrots.

„Uh... hi...“

Four people, two girls and two guys are staring at him like he's an endangered animal.

„What happened to your arm???“ one of the girls suddenly yells. Shes short and round and has big glasses and pigtails and doesn't actually look to be much older than 18.

„Chelsea! You don't randomly ask people what happened to their arms!“ an equally short but very skinny boy says in a hushed but urgent tone. He looks just as young.

Vash lets out a weak unsure chuckle.

„Shark got me.“

„A what?“ Chelsea is still pointing at him „You're a liar! There are no sharks on No Man's Land!“

A tall man with nerdy glasses and very short dark hair speaks up.

„We usually call that one a Joke. Forgive her, she just says whatever is in her head. Which is a whole lot so you might want to invest in earplugs. I'm Steven, I'm the current group president. And those two are Melvin“ -the young guy with glasses who is still shushing Chelsea- „and Anna.“ He points at a girl who looks like the exact opposite of Chelsea.

Nancy nods at the group and seems very happy about the developments.

„I see you're talking to each other just fine. Maybe Vash can help you with the lunch prep? How is everything going anyways?“

„We are almost done cutting the vegetables and honestly there isn't much to do then. I'm gonna put the steaks in a pan in an hour or so, Melvin takes care of the rice. Yeah.. that's basically it.“ Steven answers.

„I uh... I have to go to my appointment soon..“ Vash reminds Nancy.

„Oh yeah I almost forgot about that. You do that. I see you all for lunch!“

[sp00kyrachael]

like I said yesterday my partner approves of my kinks, approves of diapers, accepts me wholly and fully. but their OCD has been getting really bad lately and they couldn't stick around for a wet diaper change yesterday.

previously their issues had only extended to poo, so since their OCD is getting actively worse I'm taking some time off of diapers. They didn't ask me to do this and they would feel super fucking guilty if they knew I was doing it for them, but if I'm gonna be wearing diapers long term like I know I should, my partner needs to be on board.

They had been off one of their meds for a bit. I thought it was intentional, a shift in meds from one to another, but the new med was apparently supposed to *supplement* and they felt too guilty "wasting" money on meds to refill the old one. So I filled it yesterday and they seem improved already today, but I want to give them a period of healing as they readjust to medication. I want my partner to be happy and healthy, for their sake first and foremost, before I do any more kink stuff that could exacerbate their health problems.

[authoratlas]

Flares

A short original work with some OCs. Whumpy fic about a pain flare. Partly because I've seen exactly one fic with a character who had costochondritis and I feel underrepresented.

First-person POV

Cw: pain, pain thoughts, mentions of past physical assault.

(Author's note: sorry to others who have costochondritis that don't like whump. Also, mentioned in the fic is "like the breaks that didn't heal quite right". This is a reference to character's backstory, but costochondritis affects the intercostal cartilage and is not supposed to directly involve bone.)

It hurt to move.

Sure, it usually did, but not quite so bad.

I knew the flare was coming; I'd gotten pretty good at spotting the triggers.

Stress was a big one. It was Spring Break of Senior Year. Graduation was coming up and then I'd start college. I didn't feel ready and neither did any of my friends.

Physical activity often played a role, and I had definitely done a lot of that by walking everywhere with the group. In my defense, it had been fun at the time.

Sleep was another factor; the more sleep I got, the less shitty I usually felt, but the nightmares had started up again. It wouldn't surprise me if the sleep-thrashing and fighting added to my pain as well.

Finally, of course, it's worth mentioning that Matt's Spring Break Parting Gift was a pretty solid punch to the chest. That's probably actually what did it.

Either way, I had known the flare was coming, but knowing was unhelpful; at best, I could take some Aleve and hope that it wouldn't last long. It was still morning, after all.

By noon, the Aleve either hadn't kicked in, or it had, but to little effect. I was still in bed, having taken my meds with one of the granola bars I keep in my room for days like that. I'd hoped getting up would be easy enough, since the group would be coming over tonight, but most movements were instant demotivators; even something like rolling onto my side, something that simple, scored about a 6.5, which was high enough to make me want to stay still and not move ever, ever again. The problem was that when I heard my phone chime, I completely forgot about that little detail, and rolled over to grab my phone. The thought of My People outweighed the threat of pain.

Pain that felt like fire, like the breaks that didn't heal quite right. I curled up, hoping it would make the pain stop. The movement only seemed to aggravate it. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to level out my breathing. Before long, the pain would fade, and it would suck less.

It took about a minute for me to be right; sure enough, the burn returned back to the dull ache that I knew would stick around for a while. I took the opportunity to grab my phone and read the message.

Nico: Shea, are you alright? You haven't said anything in the group chat yet today, and I know you're usually up by now.

Nico. I made Nico worry.

Shea: Yeah, I'm up, just distracted.

Nico: What's up? Is it because of yesterday?

Shea: You could say that. It's not entirely the case, but yeah.

Remember earlier, when I mentioned Matt's "Spring Break Parting Gift"? Well, that was yesterday. Matt is this guy from school that hates my guts over drama from 8th grade, of all things. The funny thing is that the thing he hates me for didn't even affect him, but rather a friend of his. He's just the one that hits the hardest.

Nico: What's going on, Shea? I mean, you trust me enough to fill me in, right?

Shea: Of course I do, but I don't want you to go do something stupid.

Nico: Of course not, silly, why would I do something stupid? I'm not going to walk over to Matt's house, which is just down the street anyway, and kick his ass on your behalf or anything.

Nico: Why would I do that?

Nico: Fuck him and his stupid-ass friends.

Nico: I'm going to kill him with my bare hands.

Shea: Nico, stop it. Matt has never been worth it. He didn't cause the flare anyway, I'm pretty sure.

Nico: You're in the middle of a flare right now?

In theory, of course, I shouldn't have said that. But I wasn't thinking when I sent the reply, and who knows what would come of that?

Shea: I am, but it's not from that

It was a lie, but it was one that could keep Nico out of trouble. In theory.

Nico: How do you know?

Nico: How could you possibly know that for sure?

Nico: Because as far as I recall, you weren't flaring yesterday, and he punched you, and today you're flaring. Sounds to me like he fucking caused it.

Shea: I just don't want you to do something stupid because of it. He's an idiot and he's not worth it. And you going over there and starting shit isn't going to make the rest of the school year easier for me.

Nico: He's not about to just fuck with my boyfriend and get away with it, and I'm tired of him thinking it's okay.

Shea: Okay, you're not friends with him anymore, so here's how that's gonna go:

Shea: Option 1 is you go over there and fight him and he kicks your ass.

Shea: Option 2 is you go over there and fight him and you kick his ass, and then next week, when school starts again, he beats me half to death in a broom closet and leaves me there.

Shea: So tell me again how worth it this is?

There was a knock at the front door; it couldn't have been Mom, because she, of course, had a key. Slowly, cautiously, I got up and walked to the living room and looked through the window next to the front door.

"Come on, dude, let me in."

I opened the door, closing and locking it again behind Nico. "Why...?"

"I had to do something, and you didn't want me at Matt's house, so..."

I sat on the couch, motioning for him to do the same. "Okay, fair I guess."

"Can I ask you a question?" He'd rushed it out almost immediately after I finished talking.

"Uh... Yeah? Anytime?"

"Did that actually happen to you?"

I frowned. "What?"

"The broom closet thing. Did that actually happen to you?"

A flash of memory came through, of falling backward onto a pile of brooms, breathless and bleeding. Of being sure no one would find me until I got myself up and out of there. "Not exactly?"

"It was too specific to be completely made up."

"It wasn't. It just wasn't Matt."

Nico made eye contact for a moment before having a staring contest with the living room rug. "Can you explain?"

It wasn't an order or a request so much as a genuine question, which was something I loved about him. He understood how hard some memories can be.

I nodded. "Yeah. Uh, it was back in 10th grade, and Matt and Ross were out of town."

"So it couldn't have been any of the main 3. Jesse was already expelled by that point."

"It was Patrick and Seth. They swore they needed to do something to 'keep me in line', whatever that means. I'd woken up to a pain flare, too, so I had stabs of pain from my left shoulderblade to about here," I said, gesturing to a part of my back. "It was, uh, the broom closet I got ice-bucketed with, too. Insult to injury, y'know? Patrick locked Seth and me inside and I had pretty much given up by then. How can you run when you're literally locked in there with the dude that wants to beat your ass?"

"Fucking cowa--..." He stopped himself halfway through the word, and it took me a moment to process why.

"No, I agree, they were cowards about it. You can say it, it's fine. I went non-speaking for part of the day after that. Almost had my mom take me to the hospital. Then she decided we were going anyway. It was... a lot of bruising and inflammation. Nothing else. But... I wouldn't put it past Matt to talk to them and do the same thing. And I also don't trust Matt not to, um..."

Not to actually kill me.

"Yeah, I know. I get why you want to leave it alone. But it's hard for me to just accept it. We both know I haven't been going through this with you nearly as long as Jamie or Oliver have."

"We graduate in about two months. Then I don't have to deal with them. And neither do you."

Nico didn't have to deal with the worst parts of them. Not the same way I did. But he had to deal with the aftermath, now, and he had to see me hurt because of them. If I was honest, I'd stopped caring about the pain around the same time my body decided to work against me, but it hurt to see my friends worry. It hurt to feel like my existence made theirs heavier. I knew the trauma would weigh on me long after I was out of school, but I had a good therapist and a great support system. Eventually, I could heal.

All I needed was to make it two more months.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

To any doctors out there, if you are actually saving lives and getting results, and still can't get full approval your issue might not be something as insubstantial as "bedside manner" it might be a failure to consider finances and disability, or to act in a way that's timely.

Did you prescribe a name brand of something that isn't covered when you could have prescribed a brand that is, or that is way cheaper? Do you habitually do this and make your patients work for affordable meds you could have prescribed in the first place?

Did you make it inaccessible to see you for an appointment? Did you refuse to see someone in a video appointment and make a disabled person travel unnecessarily and risk their life in a pandemic so you could "see them face to face" because you're weird about video calls not feeling real enough to you?

Is your office staff full of -frankly- cunts who refuse to communicate in ways that are accessible to your patients, such as talking to a partner or friend with the appropriate permission forms filled out or refusing to communicate in writing. [some people have sensory processing issues and cannot properly understand language over the phone from unfamiliar speaking voices, etc...]

Do YOU habitually refuse to communicate in ways that are more accessible to your patients such as letting them communicate in writing by bringing letters to their appointment or just not talking over them and giving them time to think and speak? Do you make them feel so rushed through the appointment that they forget everything?

Do you do things like force disabled people to make multiple appointments months apart for 5 different referrals you could have discussed and given out in 10 minutes total in one appointment because it's "office policy to have one issue per appointment"?

Does it take 3 months or more to get an appointment with you even for something urgent like a bladder infection, with no alternative other than going to the local emergency room.

Did you generally put an unfair burden to "prove" their symptoms on your patient instead of just believing them when they say something is really painful or that they can't pee, or something was different a week ago? "Well I have to go by what it looks like to me today right now :)" thereby implying they are lying or 'mistaken' about what it was doing yesterday or a week ago.

Are patients being forced to wait until symptoms have passed before they can have the test for whatever is supposed to be causing them. Such as with untimely testing at labs, waiting for appointments, or having to wait until symptoms are passed to even physically get to the tests because you don't have testing services for people who are too sick to leave their homes?

Did you misgender your patient? Do you and your office staff habitually and continuously misgender your patient?

Did you refuse to refer someone, treat, or do your own research because something was outside your personal comfort zone, leaving your patient to have to seek another doctor to make progress on whatever issues you haven't personally decided to treat? [such as refusing to either prescribe hormones or refer your patient to someone who can]

Do you generally treat disabled patients like they are being immature or refusing to cooperate when something is too hard for them, such as punishing patients for having memory issues or basically denying them care because of memory, mobility or communication difficulties? Is your staff doing that?

Are you refusing to believe patients when they tell you their physical limitations? Ie, "my bladder doesn't get any bigger than that without tearing, I do not have a normal bladder size, sorry??"

Are you refusing to consider the impact of conditions, such as risk factors, for conditions your patient is sure they have but are in the long process of diagnosing? ie, your patient has every reason to believe they have a connective tissue disorder and POTS that is putting them in the high risk category for a heart complication, but you are pretending they aren't in the high risk category because you don't have that condition confirmed formally on paper, so you are forcing them to try a treatment that is potentially life threatening to them.

Are you generally confusing what you can be held liable for or what's likely based on averages for what is a moral way to treat your patients or what might be individually true for them? ie, Refusing to consider they might have a rare condition and refusing to test for it because no one could blame you -legally- for not thinking they have something super rare, leaving them to suffer or potentially experience a life threatening or ending complication before it's caught/proven.

Do you go out of your way to refuse to test for the one thing your patient thinks it is, delaying diagnosis or peace of mind whether or not you are correct?

Do you try to emotionally placate your patients instead of just testing for what they are concerned about? [making a physical health problem or concern into a mental health problem in your view]

"Well in the end they figured it out just fast enough that I didn't outright die" becomes a lot less impressive when you could have actually saved them years of suffering or saved them from something like brain damage or worsening disability by making your services more accessible and listening to them sooner.

I have had plenty of doctors who were eventually forced to do their job and not fully let me die, but I'd hardly give them full stars for me still being here through some combination of me forcing their hand and 'dumb luck'.

[serabellyms]

⁉️ Your last 'oh shit' moment?     ⤷ @firstkeptdaughter

That would be... not last Friday, but the Friday before (Dec 1st) when I realized that dummy me hadn't gone to pick up her meds on the 30th like she should have... and therefore had to walk, unmedicated, in the morning down to the pharmacy to pick it up. I'd called to have it filled, so that part wasn't an issue, but I was very grumpy on my way to the pharmacy to pick it up! (It's not a far walk, maybe 10-15 minutes one way, so not a huge deal, but it was an ugh why couldn't you just pick it up yesterday sort of moment coupled with oh shit, how are you supposed to take your meds when you don't have any left, dummy).

[nayarainchapters]

RUNIC JOURNEY - Aett ruled by Tyr

Here’s some notes from the first part of my Runic Journey (Read here).

Jan 18: Tiwaz

Solving problems day. Everything worked out. 

Keywords: problem solving, victory, willpower.

Jan 19: Berkano

It was a good day. I felt inspired and got some stuff done. I know now what to do next.

Keywords: inspiration, beginnings,

Jan 20: Ehwaz

Busy day. I am very tired but I am glad I got things done. A few things threatened my peace of mind but I said NOT TODAY! :D

Keywords: moving forward, community, teamwork.

Jan 21: Mannaz

Saturday was reserved for me to clean and organize some stuff in my room, plan and make predictions for the week ahead, reflect on this past week and rest for the rest of the day. For the relaxation part of saturday I went to grandma’s and I talked with her about how things were many years ago. Interestingly enough we got to talk about reincarnation, some death rituals from decades ago and a bit on the middle ages art portraying death. If you guys don’t know I am passionate about the end of life, I absolutely love understanding beliefs and attitudes towards death. I loved talking with grandma, this was, no doubt, the highlight of my day. 

Keywords: memory, knowledge, society.

Jan 22: Laguz

We had a birthday party to attend, but dad was not feeling well, so we decided to stay home. I went to the hospital with him so he could talk with a doctor and take some meds. He is feeling better now. Thank gods!

Aside from that, it was a boring day. I didn't plan many things cause we would be out most of the day, and even tho we stayed home I didn't try or did anything exciting. I feel a bit lost, to be honest. I don't want to fill every hour of my waking day :D to do stuff, but when I have free time I am like ???? What am I supposed to feel? I am bit confused.

Keywords: unforeseen, emotions, confusion.

Jan 23: Ingwaz

All the tasks I had for today are done by now, but something got me thinking. There is this woman I am following on Instagram and she is truly an inspiration and watching her made me wonder: what if my life was different? What would it be like if I had chosen to try things while I was younger? How/where/who would I be now? What can I do to have a better life right now, based on who I am today? Am I willing to get uncomfortable? I felt a bit sad but moments like this are important to realize all the things I've done and how far/close I am from my ultimate goals.

It is late now and I am here just to update this. Hard to describe how I am feeling now. I heard stories, sad ones. I can only hope the suffering they're going through end soon.

Keywords: realization, contemplation, family

Jan 24: Dagaz

Today was my rest day, but I feel bad for it. I ate too much yesterday and I feel bad I didn’t workout. Most of the day I was thinking what do I need to do to have more? Right now I have enoough to live, but I am not where I want to be. I can do much more. 

Keywords: dissatisfaction, enlightenment, awakening.

Jan 25: Othila

I didn’t want to do many things, but I am glad I pushed myself. Now I am done with everything and I also had time for myself. Slowly making progress. I had an argument with dad today, nothing too serious. I choose to not make this a big deal and take away my peace. 

Keywords: inner strenght, family, foundation. 

Previous posts of RUNIC JOURNEY SERIES

Aett ruled by Freyja

Aett ruled by Heimdall

[builder051]

C, D, P, and X if you please.

C is for calling--

I've never had a moment of "passion" in what I'm doing, either as a job/career, or in any of my other interests. I have completed one of those "Choose your way" journals (I'm addicted to Piccadilly--most of their stuff is a blast to fill out), though, and, probably somewhat due to my disabilities and therefore inabilities to work a set schedule, I'm called to writing and art. I don't mean this to be, like, all superiority complex, or anything, but I remember being in elementary school and taking the "write a story" prompts very seriously. By the time in was in Sophomore AP English 10, my teacher personally complimented me for some random original fiction assignment, saying it was particularly above and beyond the usual drivel. I'm not sure I have another book in me, like Battle of Troy, but my NaNo content, my fanfiction, my Piccadilly prompts-- they're all still there to motivate the urge to create.

D is for dust mop-

My bio family was full of neat freaks, and chores like dusting the baseboards (I'll give it a tiny bit of a pass, considering they were white baseboards on white walls), was done almost daily to keep them from accumulating the smallest greyish hue. What stain remover was for which type of flooring was expected to be memorized. As well as what was "safe" to clean the granite countertops (fyi acetone is not in that category).

Yesterday my roommate and I cleaned the whole dog and cat feeding area with a package of Swiffers (which, interestingly enough, we got as swag at Pridefest back in June). I clean the hammy house with water, paper towels, the tiniest bit of Dawn, and a few alcohol wipes on the tough spots. I have moved most of my painting/figurine restoration studio into my bedroom, so, if I find a dust bunny along with that rogue flower stem, I pick it up and bin it. Cleaning is as cleaning does, I suppose? I like that method much better

P is for privilege

Oooooook, I don't want to get into anyone's crawl here, because I have had some fantastic opportunities, which I only had access to because of where I lived during what span of time and who my bio parents associated with. I get that. There was cushioning in my childhood that allowed me to experience sets of circumstances that others cannot access. I apologize in advance if any of this comes across badly; I mean to share, not brag or condemn.

My bio parents had me in "school" (educational daycare) from the time I was 3 years old. Before that I was completely unsocialized; I was raised as a toddler in a commune-like situation where I only knew 2 or 3 adults and 2 or 3 other children.

As far as education goes, in my opinion, it's a coin flip. The neighborhood school has a good rep or a poor one. The teacher is kind and inventive, of they're mean. You love school, or you hate it. College, too. It's either a great experience to learn how to adult, or it's a red flag that no, no, we are not ready for this yet.

I still have that 50-50 mindset about a lot of things. Will it rain tomorrow and make the baby cranky? Will it be warm enough to wear my Black Panther shirt? Will my child have a meltdown because I opened the refrigerator and didn't take anything out specifically for him? Got to keep playing the odds. Somehow it all turns out alright.

X is for xanax

Very convenient when sleepy is needed (or a convenient "out"). I once, quite some time ago, when I was new on the med, I had, like, 1mg, and I slept on the couch in my roommate's father's office for 3 or 4 hours and completely missed the visit (We're all civil with him. Friendly-ish, but you have to keep a guard up for sudden impossible plans and info dumps that may be, erm, inappropriate for the ears of our younger bunch.)

The X is currently the thing I'm prescribed for relaxation, and more often than not, I'll put it crushed through my J tube for a fairly immediate spray-n-squeegee of the walls to take down intrusive thoughts, then I'll nest like a hamster for the sleepy effects, and hopefully be feeling better and ready to resume problem-solving by the time I wake up.

[bloodanddiscoballs]

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [9/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: wow, it has been a while! I'm sorry it has been so long; I am pretty busy with school at the moment. But I wanted to let you all know that I see your kind asks/messages, and if I haven't answered you yet, I will soon; I appreciate each and every one of them! This chapter has the fear sim and reader accidentally skips lunch, so trigger warning for fear of not being good enough/failure, and Peter being a creep (nothing happens though). Idk how I feel about this chapter, but please let me know what you think! <3

Metal on metal woke you up, and you sat up with a start at the unpleasant sound. After scanning the room, you saw that it was just Four with his trash can lid and ladle waking everyone up, as per usual. “Alright, today is the first day of stage two, and after last night we let everyone sleep for an extra hour. So, get your asses out of bed, get dressed, and eat breakfast before reporting to the training room, and we’ll walk from there to the simulation rooms together. In one hour, we are going to start the simulations, so don’t be late!” Four announced before walking out of the room. As soon as he was out of sight, several initiates groaned in frustration.

“I am so fucking tired,” Christina said.

“Tell me about it,” you replied, lifting up your shirt to reveal the bruises on your side from your fight with Peter. Christina’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Holy shit! I can’t believe that was yesterday! Do you need pain meds or anything along with breakfast?” she asked, her eyes softening in concern.

“I’ll be fine,” you smiled, getting dressed as you spoke. “I just want something to eat.”

“You can say that again,” Will said as he and Tris joined you and Christina, making a small circle.

“Alright, let me get my shoes on,” you said, pulling on your already worn-in combat boots and lacing them up before the four of you left the dorm.

--

The four of you walked into the dining hall, heading straight for an empty table. As Will started filling his plate with scrambled eggs, you scanned the room, feeling someone’s eyes on you. All the other initiates were too preoccupied with making themselves eat despite how appealing the idea of taking a nap right at the table seemed. Eventually, your gaze made its way to the leader’s table, where you locked eyes with Eric, who raised an eyebrow at you as if in some kind of challenge. You held his gaze momentarily, only looking away when Tris tapped your shoulder. You looked at her questioningly, and as she passed you the serving spoon for the eggs, you realized everyone else had begun eating except for Tris, who always waited until everyone was served to eat. Old habits die hard, you supposed.

As if rudely parodying your thoughts, Peter stepped up to the table you and your friends were sitting at and said “The Stiff still doesn’t understand that here, she actually needs to eat if she wants to survive.”

“Fuck off, Peter,” Christina said, rolling her eyes.

Stepping away, Peter raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m going, don’t worry. I just wanted to make sure you all knew that there’s no way you’ll pass the fear sims,” he smirked, turning on his heel and leaving everyone at your table annoyed and a little scared, the reminder about the fear sims bringing your anxieties about them to the forefront of your mind. And it seemed like you weren’t the only one.

“What an ass,” Will said, trying to focus on his food rather than the churning nerves in his stomach.

“You’re telling me,” Tris mumbled, and you grinned a little bit at this snarky side of her.

Just as you turned back to your food, you heard combat boots hitting the concrete behind you, and without turning around, you said “I thought we told you to fuck off, Peter.” The table had gone quiet, and you saw everyone staring at you. Dread settled over you. “It’s not Peter is it,” you asked with a wince.

“No, initiate, it’s not Peter,” Eric’s unmistakable voice chuckled from behind you. You sat up straight, turning to face the leader, who stood with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face, amused at your embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Obviously, I was expecting someone else.” Eric raised a brow at that but otherwise his face reimagined stoic.

“Clearly,” he replied. “I came to ask you two,” he looked between you and Will before continuing, “what you know about the latest serum developed for fear sims.”

Will shook his head, eyes wide. “Nothing, sir,” he said. With a nod, Eric turned his attention to you.

“Only that it’s more powerful, obviously, otherwise they wouldn’t need to update it in the first place, but--” you cut yourself off, suspicion that had been creeping in since Eric asked the question finally taking over.

“Anything else?” he asked knowingly.

“No, sir,” you shook your head.

“Alright,” he said unconvinced before walking away without another word.

“What was that about?” Will asked, leaning across the table towards you.

“I don’t know, I just gave the basics about why any serum would be modified, and I had this feeling… I don’t know, it just seemed suspicious that Leadership would ask us rather than Jeanine. Maybe it was a test?”

“Something like that,” Will said, trying to convince himself.

Tris, who had gone silent, stood up abruptly, tapping you on the shoulder. “I’m going to use the restroom before heading over to the training room. See you there,” she excused herself, nodding at you subtly. A few moments later, you excused yourself from the table and made your way to the nearest bathroom, where Tris stood waiting.

“Hey,” you whispered. “What’s up?”

Without wasting any time, she said “We have to tell Four what you just told Eric.” You hesitated for a minute before nodding. Something was strange about what had happened earlier, and if Tris was willing to put her trust in Four, you would too.

“You tell him,” you said after pacing the bathroom for a moment. “He knows you better anyway,” you added.

“Okay,” Tris agreed. “I’ll tell him later today if I can.”

“Good. Now, let’s get to the training room,” you said, already heading for the door.

--

“Ladies,” Peter leered as you and Tris walked into the training room and walked over to where Will and Christina were standing. As other Dauntless initiates filed into the room, Four and Eric stood at the front of the room, surveying the crowd.

“Okay,” Eric said, stepping forward to address the nervous crowd. “Everyone follow Four and me, we are taking you to a holding room where you will wait to be called for your first fear simulation. Let’s go,” he barked out the order after explaining, and he and Four started walking through the hallways, stopping once they reached a stark, white room with benches lining two of the walls.

“Take a seat, give us a minute to set up, and then we’ll start calling you into those rooms,” Four said, pointing to the two doors on the back wall.” Then, he and Eric disappeared, each through one of the doors, and the room went silent as initiates fidgeted in their seats. After about a minute, Four and Eric popped their heads out of the doors, calling names, and the fear sims had begun. The initiate in Four’s testing room walked out thirteen minutes later on wobbly legs, pale and sweaty. Thirty seconds later, the initiate in Eric’s room walked out in tears. All the initiates in the waiting room looked around, the reality of the situation settling over them, becoming real in a way that it hadn't been before. As the next pair of names was called, the two people who had been selected stood up much more hesitantly than the first pair of initiates had, and Eric glared at one of them, who you recognized as Selene. You watched as the other woman steeled herself and walked faster, more confidently, towards Eric’s room, the door slamming shut behind her.

--

Minutes seemed to stretch on forever, and each initiate walked out looking worse than the last. You’d fallen into a kind of stupor, choosing to focus on what you know, facts that could keep you grounded. Fact number one: it was a simulation. Fact number two: even if the sim caused a real-time trauma response in the body, which it seemed like it did, no one had ever died from a panic attack--at worst, you pass out and your body “resets” in a way. Fact number three: neither instructor would let something truly terrible happen. Four wasn’t malicious, and Eric had mentioned your potential; he wasn’t going to let someone who could help the faction in the future die. A part of you hoped he cared about you as an acquaintance after the limited time you two had spent together. It wasn’t enough to be a friendship, but it was more than anyone else had with the ruthless leader. As your mind wandered to thoughts of your time with Eric, you reminded yourself to stick to facts only; those were certain, they were grounding. Before you could continue talking yourself out of thinking about feelings rather than facts--fear is technically a feeling, something deep inside the crevices of your mind echoed, as if tying tall of he thoughts you’d been having for the past hour or so up in a pretty knot, Eric opened the door to his testing room and made eye contact with you. “You’re up, initiate,” he said. You rose to your feet, and walked forward. It was time to face your fears.

--

You stood in the middle of a crowd, arms and legs tied together, mouth gagged. Your muscles ached; you’d been fighting for hours, and your mind was sluggish after so much exertion. Looking at the faces around you, you saw the faces of various people who had appeared in your life, ranging from your friends and family to a Factionless man you’d seen on the street a year ago. “It’s okay,” they said, speaking in one echoing voice. “We know you did your best.” You looked down at yourself and saw blood and grime, and your cheek stung as a salty tear rolled down your face. Inside your mind, you knew that there was a second part to that statement, something the voices had left to say. You stared into the eyes of your father as he said in a foreign chorus of voices “your best just wasn’t enough.” Suddenly, you knew this fear; you’d been here before, maybe in your nightmares once. If the simulator plays off the subconscious, you thought, then it can only use things I already have the capacity to imagine. So how would I get out of this? You considered. You saw a knife strapped to the ankle of one of the strange bodies surrounding you, and despite your hands being bound, you made a grab for it. As you reached for the knife, the ground opened up beneath you, transforming the space around you into a cell. There was blood on your hands, and Dauntless leadership stood outside the cell beside your parents.

“You did what you had to do,” your mother reassured you. “You’ll get out of there soon.”

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you defended, despite being unsure of what had happened. Max stepped forward.

“No, you did what you had to do. That child was a threat to us all.” And, much like the last scene, you realized what the fear was in one horrific moment. You had killed someone, someone young. It was self defense, you’re sure of it, but that didn’t change the guilt that you felt. What if, even though you could perform your Dauntless duties you couldn’t handle the emotional aftermath? Before you had the chance to spiral, you caught a glimpse of Eric’s tall figure walking around beyond the cells. If he can live with himself, balancing the good with the bad, you thought, remembering all the times he had yelled at initiates as well as the time he let you sleep in his apartment, then so can I. Survival first, there will be time for guilt later. And then the scene changed again.

You were in the fighting ring, and Peter stood over you. “Someday, I will beat you,” he whispered threateningly. “And when I do, I will show you which one of us really holds the power.” An adrenaline rush unlike any other came over you as Peter’s words sank it, and without a second thought, you headbutted him, standing up.

“You are a coward!” You yelled. “Threatening me with something like your pathetic manhood just to feel more in control? It’s because you can’t beat me unless I’m scared, and you think you can scare me.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Peter smirked. You rushed at him, and as your fist collided with his face, you woke up.

“Well, that was fast,” Eric drawled from beside you. You were startled, having forgotten he was there, but you managed not to flinch. You looked up at Eric and locked eyes with him.

“Did I do well?” you asked, only shaking slightly as you came down from the adrenaline high.

“Yes,” Eric nodded. “Now, get out of here. I have more initiates to test.” With a deep breath, you rose from the chair, stumbling slightly, and Eric steadied you. “Careful, I’d hate for one of our top initiates to accidentally fall into the chasm just because they aren’t used to the feeling of the serum wearing off and coming down from the adrenaline spike.”

“Thanks,” you said with a tight smile as you slid out of his grasp and walked out of the room, carefully avoiding your fellow initiates’ stares.

--

After wandering the halls for a while, taking care to avoid the chasm, you grabbed your bag from the dorm room and searched for a quiet spot to read, settling on an empty training room that was a little smaller than the one you and the other initiates had trained in. After settling down on a surprisingly clean sparring mat, you reached into your bag for the book your father had given you on visiting day. You were almost done with Eric’s book, and you knew if you read it now you’d finish it, but your mind wanted to get lost in another world, which was why the book your father had given you, titled Mythos Priories: Origin Stories and Mythologies From Around the World, was the perfect book to read right now. You took a moment to admire the beautiful quetzal that graced the front cover of the book, vibrant scales and feathers lined with gold amazing you every time you looked at them. You opened the book and began reading, content to get lost in the legends of long ago for the time being.

--

Some time later, about fifty pages into the book, someone stopped in the doorway, cleared their throat, and said “Well, this is unexpected.” You turned to see Eric, trying to keep your annoyance at being interrupted under control. “You know this is a private training room, right?” he questioned.

“No, I did not,” you replied with a frown as Eric walked over to you. “The door was open,” you shrugged.

With a short laugh, Eric said “Just because a door is open, doesn’t mean you should enter,” and you studied his face, unsure if he was being serious or messing with you. His possibly serious demeanor changed in an instant though, as he looked down at your book and plucked it with your hands, grinning. “Origin stories and Mythologies, how interesting,” he said, looking at the cover of the book before opening it back up to where you had stopped reading. “Japanese mythology?” he asked, skimming the page.

“Yeah,” you nodded enthusiastically. “It’s so interesting and overlooked, as are most Eastern mythologies, in academia in favor of Western mythologies. I mean, everyone knows the Greek and Roman myths, but this stuff is much less common,” you said, excited, and Eric smiled a bit at your enthusiasm.

“I thought you were done with Erudite?” he teased.

“I am!” you defended yourself. “I just like reading…”

Eric nodded before saying “I would keep that a secret if I were you,” he advised. “Wouldn’t want anyone doubting your loyalties before you’re even a fully-fledged member of Dauntless.” You searched his eyes for a threat in the statement, but there was none that you could see, and you nodded, taking the book back. “Are you done with my book?” Eric said, breaking the semi-awkward silence that had fallen between you two.

“I’m almost done with it,” you said. “I just wanted something a little more fantastical, after, you know…” you trailed off. Eric nodded in understanding.

“You did well. It gets easier, you know.” It came out stiffly, but you knew that was his way of offering comfort, and you smiled in thanks. “Now, if you don’t mind, I was going to train in here, so either get ready or get out,” Eric said, crossing his arms. You sat there for a moment, shocked, before making a split-second decision to join him in training.

With a nod, you stood and gathered your things, put them on a bench near the wall, and jogged back to the mat.

--

You groaned as Eric kicked your leg out from under you, sending you harshly to the mat once again. “Damn it,” you forced out, propping yourself up on your elbows. Eric only grinned at you smugly. “I am still an initiate, no need to be so smug about beating me,” you muttered as you stood up, feeling new bruises develop on your already tender skin. You expected the leader to scowl; your exhaustion had lowered your sense of self-control, and this wasn’t the first snarky remark you’d made to him. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Well, well, it appears someone gets hangry,” he said, checking the clock. You followed his gaze and saw that it was already dinner time--how had you missed lunch? Usually you didn’t let time get away from you like that, but after the fear landscape, you’d delved into reading and training, and the hours had flown by faster than you’d realized.

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly. “I guess I read through lunch,” you explained.

Eric’s demeanor changed in an instant. “You didn’t eat lunch? And still trained with me? What the hell is wrong with you?” You winced a little, feeling like an idiot. He wasn’t yelling at you, but you could feel the disappointment radiating off of him.

“It was an accident; I guess I just read through it, I--” you started to explain, and you were glad your face was flushed from training because it hid the embarrassing pink flush across your cheeks.

“It’s fine… this time,” Eric said, a little calmer than before. “Just… you know you could pass out if you do something like that again.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to, I promise.”

Eric nodded and gathered his things, and you did the same. “Let’s go; it’s dinner time and I am walking you to the dining hall to make sure you don’t pass out on the way there. Make sure to eat something.”

“I will! I-” you said, a little defensively, before cutting yourself off. You were about to say “I promise”, but that felt too intimate, too personal. Was it weird to make promises, especially ones like that, to your leader? You supposed it was already weird to train in a private room with your leader, so after a moment of consideration, you finished the sentiment, locking eyes with Eric as you said “I promise.” He nodded curtly, and the two of you walked out of the training room together, bags in hand, and made your way to the dining hall.

Tag List: @shykoolaid, @taina-eny, @parabatai-winchester, @marvel-ousnesss, @kid-from-new-zealand, @polychr0matic, @maan24, @abysshaven, @darkenwolfie, @adaydreamaway08, @ssa--holmes, @poisonmenegan, @hannibalsslut, @louiselikeswriting, @haroldpatterson, @urgrlfnm

[nextdoorharry]

imaaaaagine a world like that..can you? part 2

-

in which y/n sees a text, harry lies to her, and wants her back.

a/n: ahhhh!!! i feel like the first part of this story was a fan favorite out of all my other pieces! so thank you thank you thank you!!! hope you enjoy!

here’s the link to part 1 if you haven’t read it already!

-

you were always a light sleeper. you would wake up to a pillow falling on the floor, slight wind coming from outside, or even a phone that’s on silent vibrate. that’s the case when you woke up to a text vibration sound coming from a phone. tired eyes, you wake from your current position and see a love island episode playing. on auto-play of course because you already remember watching the previous episode a few days prior. you guess you and harry fell asleep during the new one you two were watching. with tired eyes, you squint to see harry sleeping peacefully. you miss this, you thought. sitting there in silence and taking in how harry used to sleep, slight snores, mouth a little open. except he’d be right next to you and not across.

your thoughts interrupted you hear the text buzz again. you grab what you assume to be your phone, since you and harry both have simple, plain black cases.

wrong.

it wasn’t your phone. it was harry’s.

you realized this when you read the text displayed on the lock screen, from olivia wilde.

I miss you, and our casual hookups. Can’t stop thinking about it. it read. you wanted to breakdown and cry right there.

you felt all kinds of emotions; confused, upset, angry, and jealous. why wouldn’t harry tell me this part? no i understand that, but why would he make it seem like he did not enjoy it at all? clearly he’s comfortable doing this stunt if he was hooking up with her. all these thoughts running through your head as you quietly get up, turn off the tv, and go upstairs to your bedroom. leaving harry to sleep on the couch.

you feel tears rolling down your face as you get into bed, quiet sobs erupting from your chest. you loved him. you still love him. you were glad when harry said that it’s all pr. you were glad when he made it seem like its all fake. but now, it was all a lie. sure it was a pr stunt, but harry and olivia seemed to take advantage of that and use that to get intimate. he clearly wasn’t as annoyed as he made to seem about the situation since he got to hookup with her. you may be jealous, but you don’t care that he didn’t mention something private like that to you, because he didn’t need to, it’s his business. but what stings is that he made it seem like it was clear he wasn’t actually into olivia.

-

you wake up to hear the coffee machine on, and the sound of something being cut against the cutting board. harry’s still here. you felt weird facing him now that you know he lied to you. even though you two aren’t in a relationship anymore, he has never lied to you. ever. nonetheless, you get up and proceed with your morning routine, then head downstairs.

“mornin,’ sleep well?” harry smiles as he sees you enter the kitchen. his eyebrows furrow a bit as you come closer to his vision. he couldn’t help but notice your eyes look a bit puffier than usual than how it normally looks when you’ve just woken up. he knows its either allergies or that you cried.

you reply with a slight “mhm” and reach for the cupboard to get glasses.

the thought of you crying makes him worried. it always did. you rarely cried during your relationship with him. only when it was a close individual’s funeral, or tears of laughter. or the day you two argued and he broke it off with you.

that’s why he hates seeing you in your state now. because if you were crying, all he could picture is the day you two broke up.

“y/n, y’good? your eyes look puffier than usual, love.” harry asks cautiously, trying to read your face, which refuses to make eye contact with him.

you were stood by the fridge, filling the glasses of water for the two of you when you replied, “m’good, just allergies. cat’s shedding season.” you say with a straight face, looking towards the glasses you’re filling. not wanting to look harry in the eyes. because all you can think about is how he was intimate with olivia, and how he lied. your stomach already turns at the thought.

“take the allergy meds that doctor prescribed you a while ago. remember it works wonders.” harry smiles, setting yours and his plate down on the table as you come and set the glasses down.

harry makes it so damn hard to hate him sometimes. the fact that he remembers the little things has you in awe. but no, not right now y/n.

“mhm, i’ll call in to get those refilled.” you lie through your teeth, acting as if the allergies were the reason for your current state, “thanks for breakfast by the way, y’didn’t have to. my fault for waking up later than usual.” you say sitting down.

harry sitting across from you, senses a different feel to how you were yesterday. you seem a bit off now, and you were never like this in the mornings. he supposes you did have a late night and filled with allergies bothering you, so you’re probably not in the best mood.

he shrugs it off, “no need, i overstayed my visit on accident, and its the least i can do after you helped me with my little uh, situation,” harry giggles, sticking a strawberry in his mouth.

you give him a glare as he looks down. his situation he says. you wanted to laugh in his face.

it’s a silent breakfast from there. harry in his own thoughts thinking about last night. oh, how much he missed you. how much he wanted to cuddle with you. be sleeping in bed with you. waking up to your face. soft kisses throughout. he misses it so much. he senses and hopes you miss him too. he had a good feeling last night. and that’s when he decides he needs to say something. if he doesn’t speak now, he never will. now’s the perfect time. after his tour and new album, he’ll be taking a break. a break from everything. a break to spend time with family, friends, live privately, and hopefully settle down with you. now’s the perfect time to reconcile with you and put the offer out on the table.

“..so,” harry begins. you look up and see harry putting his utensils down, wiping his mouth with a napkin, getting ready to speak. “after the tour ends, i’ll be releasing my album, do some promo for that, and then i’ll be on a hiatus..for however long i’d want it to be..”

you can’t just have all feelings for him disappear in less than 24 hours. so when he said that, you can’t lie to yourself and not feel some happiness. yet, he still better not say what you think he’s gonna say. you’re still mad at him y/n. don’t do this to yourself.

“so what are you saying..” you hum.

“god y/n, you know what i’m about to say.” harry purses his lips and looks you in the eye, hands reaching out for yours, “i’m ready to settle down with you, if you’d have me back that is.” he says with a little smile and gleaming eyes.

the days prior from yesterday of you finding out, you would’ve have said yes. you would have breathed out a finally, and had a sense of relief.

but now it’s going to be a different outcome. he took advantage of your kindness and you giving him advice. he took advantage of your time. maybe dramatic, but that’s how you see it.

you’re mad. that slight happiness you got when he said he was taking a break is gone.

“s’not even like we have to be boyfriend and girlfriend for another period of time! we can go straight to fiancés! we already have trust in each other, i mean we only broke up because of my work. nothing else was to be fixed in the relationship! i’ll put a ring on it right now if i have’ta!”

harry rambling, saying some bullshit about trust, causes you to interrupt him, “harry-“ he still rambles but now about having kids. “stop.” you say, voice grew a little louder and more stern.

harry pauses, wide-eyed. sure he didn’t know how you were even feeling about this, but he was sure the love you two have was still there.

“trust?” you laugh in disbelief. “first off, you’re acting like we took a break. a halt in our relationship until you were ready to settle down. you should know that’s not the case. i’ve been patient throughout our relationship far too long for me to be waiting around on your terms.”

“y/n i-“ he interrupts.

“no, i’m talking. this whole ‘trust’ thing is gone. i’m sorry but last night i woke up in the living room to a text notification. i assumed it was my phone, and since we have the same phone cases, i happened to pick yours up and saw a text from who’s supposed to be your ‘pr stunt’? she’s wanting to hook up with you? again? jesus harry, you should know why i’m mad and upset that you’re saying you want me now. even before you said all this, right after seeing that text, i was mad because you lied to me. look, you of course didn’t have to share that you were intimate with her; but don’t make it seem as if you’re not into her at all. and making it seem like it’s the poor girl’s fault. acting as if she’s a nuisance wanting to be intimate or affectionate, cause clearly you wanted her as well.” you end your speech with a sigh, shaking your head. you take a sip of water, mouth dry from the little speech you said. you wait for him to come up with whatever amusing thing he can say to make it not sound as bad as it is.

harry’s startled. doesn’t know what to say. he saw the text when he woke up, but he told her that it wasn’t for him anymore, that he just wanted you, and it was nice in the moment, but they are after all, strictly just business buddies with a platonic friendship. she understood, she seemed a bit mad, but harry didn’t care. he just wanted to make sure there’s nothing in his way to get you back, and that those hookups he had with her were in the past. he’s going to try to fix this.

you speak up again in a calmer tone, “you didn’t care about my feelings,”

his face turns red. nerves rattling him.

“y/n i feel awful about it, know what i mean i-“

you cut him off. “you made me look really dumb, harry.” you say while lightly nodding your head in order to get him to understand.

he begins to speak again. “look i’ll be honest. i should’ve mentioned it yesterday, and m’sorry for that. i will admit, there was a physical attraction with her at the beginning of everything, and since we were broken up-“

you correct him, “are, broken up.”

his heart hurts when you say that, he nods, “yes, are broken up, i didn’t want to live with any regrets. i felt it was better to just experiment and to take advantage of being in the stunt, seeing if there’s a spark,” he takes a breath. “i would’ve regretted if i didn’t and it was better to do it at the time because i didn’t know if you would even take me back once i came home,” he keeps fidgeting with his feet under the table, nervous on what your response will be; but hopefully understanding. because you always were.

wrong. boy was he wrong.

“so..you still did it with the intention of coming back home, hoping to get back with me?” you caught him. “harry..what are you even saying?”

he gulped. fuck. this looks bad. he didn’t think things through, he thought. “look, you didn’t feel anything rushing back last night? everything that we had, and built together?” face even more red.

“yeah and then today..you slapped me across the face with a lie and embarrassed me.” you spat. “what’s wrong with you? you don’t have any respect for me.” shaking your head in disappointment. “and its such a let down considering if you hadn’t hooked up with her, i would’ve hopped right into your arms right when you said you wanted to settle.”

he regrets everything and anything right when you said those words. why did he hook up with her? god did he really think y/n was going to just be waiting around? of course he thought so. he always did. and that’s why you two were broken up.

he sighed, shaking his head as well, as he’s disappointed in himself. he was about to speak, but you beat him to it. “i’m not mad that you hooked up with her, i’m mad that you don’t have any respect for me. i’m mad about your intentions behind it. and the fact that you lied to me making it seem like olivia is the bad guy saying, ‘s’like she enjoys it!’” you repeat his words he said to last night, when he made it seem like he wasn’t into her. “and just the fact that i gave you meaningful advice because i care about you, once again, you embarrassed me. i feel dumb, harry.”

he feels dumb too.

you still didn’t let him speak, instead, you let him leave.

“something needs to change, harry. until then, please leave.” you say, getting up from the table walking hurriedly upstairs, eyes beginning to water, but you feeling satisfied that you listened to your own advice you gave to harry: stand your ground.

-

a/n: man really thought y/n would be waiting around for her. smh.

hope you guys enjoyed this part!! still deciding on whether to make a part 3 or not! don’t really know which way i want to go about it.

[storiesofsvu]

Classified Affairs Ch 10

Heather Dunbar x fem!reader Warnings: language, mentions of smut, anxiety/panic attacks.

It had been a couple of weeks since Heather’s punishment had nearly destroyed you. She’d seen you briefly through that time, a couple of dinners, a shopping trip, and an evening at your condo where she fucked you so well you nearly forgot your own name, one where she let you come, over and over again until you were fully shivering and happily pleased.

She’d chosen to work from home today, knowing that she had the house to herself, her husband away at a medical conference for the next four days, coincidentally, your ‘weekend’. She’d been planning on a rather large, sex filled weekend with you, ordering a couple of new toys and sending a couple of new outfits over to the condo. To be completely honest, she was relieved, maybe even a bit delighted, knowing she didn’t have to worry about time restraints or coming up with stupid, false excuses as to why she wasn’t home. She had gotten up from her desk, figuring a midday glass of wine wouldn’t hurt alongside a snack, her phone laying on the kitchen island as she got things prepared.

The glass was just to her lips as her phone set off a series of vibrations that she recognized as your Apple Watch’s ‘congratulatory’ pattern. She picked it up, noting that it was mentioning you hitting your 150 mins of heart health thanks to exercise, your heart rate still clocking in at 150 bpm. She raised a brow, knowing that your workouts usually took place in the morning, before you really had a chance to wake up and realizing what you were doing. She flicked her phone open to double check your schedule, reassuring herself that you were indeed not at work, knowing that your heart rate usually spiked when you were running your ass of serving tables. She huffed noting that you certainly weren’t there, and that you were supposed to tell her whenever you picked up a shift.

Taking a large sip of wine she thought back to when you’d drunkenly called her, barely able to mention a coworker having a crush on you before she’d cut you off. Her lips formed a frown, wondering if you were getting up to something. You’d been so goddamn good since your last punishment that she was certain you weren’t about to act up again, so she collected her snack, wine and phone and made her way back to the home office, keeping your stats up on the app as she continue to work through her files.

Heather lost track of time, finally glancing up nearly an hour later, she let out a sigh, rubbing at her temples before picking up her phone. She instantly frowned at your stats, pausing to refresh the app, then closing it completely before reopening it and making sure it was synched properly. Your heart rate was still sitting in the 140’s, even if you had been at the gym, there was no reason for it to still be there.

‘You better be rearranging your apartment, or at a two hour workout class kitten. Because if you’re not alone right now…’ She warned.

‘I am literally lying on the kitchen floor trying to breathe.’

Your next text came through less than a moment later.

‘As much as I would hate to give you photographic evidence, I will if you don’t believe me.’

‘Honey, what are you on about?’

‘My anxiety’s spiked. I thought I’d be fine. I tried to work it off earlier, but that just made it worse. I’ve tried all the home remedies but none of them want to work’

‘What’s going on?’ the worry and concern shot through Heather, ‘should I call? Do you need to talk?’

‘I can barely hold a text conversation M’am, I’m so sorry.’

‘Honey, you have nothing to be sorry for. Does this happen often?’

‘No. Usually I have my meds. I had an appointment to get them filled yesterday but my Dr never went into the office. Now he’s backed up and I can’t get in for another two weeks, and walk ins can’t hand out Ativan. My only choice is to sit in the E.R for twelve hours or power through.’

‘Your heart is racing sweetheart.’ Her first message came through, ‘and you say you can’t breathe?!’

‘Heather…please… I know you’re trying to help but you’re making it worse. You’re making me think about it and that’s making my chest get tighter. I need to try and not think, to make sure I can breathe if I’m going to get through this.’

‘I’m sorry.’

**

You were half surprised when Heather actually sent an apologetic text to you, it was something you’d never, ever expected, though, in this particular situation, the dynamic of your normal interactions was changed a little bit. You continued to lie on the cool linoleum of the kitchen floor, adjusting every so often to make sure your skin was touching the cold parts of the floor. Pulling ice cubes from the slowly melting tray to hold against your pulse points as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe, watching the relax settling on your watch. Usually it didn’t get this bad, usually you were able to conquer it, and if you felt super jittery at work, you’d pop an Ativan and be fine.

Something just didn’t feel right, you barely realized what was happening until you felt like you were about to pass out. Normally it was just the fluttering in your chest, the extra shaking energy that you were able to burn off by doing something physical, but whatever was in you today was mental, and you slowly started to feel the tears burn in your eyelids as you tried to gain your composure. Your throat was so tight you started to wonder if you’d developed an unknown allergy in the last twenty four hours.

You let out a strangled gasp, your body jumping at the sound of the condo door opening. Your brain, being complete paranoid, caused your heart to leap into your throat, panic soared through your body with the sudden intrusion that someone had broken into your apartment, you let out a small cry, accepting the fact that you were probably about to die, your heart thundering in your ears as you shot up to sitting, your vision tunnelled, leaving you even more panicked.

The nausea coursed through you, and thankfully the figure in front of you wasn’t actually there to murder you, pulling the garbage can from under the sink just in the nick of time as you lost your only meal of the day into it.

You felt a tender hand making sure your hair was out of the way of your face, tucking the loose pieces into your ponytail and softly rubbing at your back before you dropped back against the island behind you. A bottle of water came into your view that you took the cap off, taking a small sip.

“You really didn’t have to come.” You croaked up, now realizing that Heather was your house guest.

“Oh I really think I did.” She replied, a brief dig through her bag and a bottle of pills came into your view, “take at least one, I don’t want you to feel that bad ever again.”

You took the bottle from her, it was labelled as Ativan, and was completely full to the brim, way more pills than your doctor would ever give you at one time. You raised what you could of a brow at her before you popped the lid open, dumping one under your tongue, letting it dissolve.

“How…did you…?”

“Sweetheart.” She smirked, “there’s got to be at least a couple of good perks for being a politician.”

“Thank you.” You started to feel the anxiety well up again, tears breaking into your eyes, “you really didn’t have to.”

“On the contrary,” she hummed, helping you up off the floor and guiding you to the couch, “you’re supposed to be taking care of yourself kitten…you’ve let that slide. No thanks to that fucking doctor of yours.” She huffed in annoyance, making sure you were settled on the couch instead of the hard floor.

“I’m sorry.” You ducked your gaze, your cheeks heating as a tear rolled down your face.

“None of that now.” She flicked at your chin with her finger gently, bringing her gaze up to yours. “Let that Ativan settle in, help yourself to a second one. I’ll set you up with a better doctor next week if that’s alright?”

“It is.” You took a heavy breath, sinking into the couch, trying to focus on your breathing as the meds kicked in.

“Did you eat kitten?” Heather asked and you winced.

“Uh…breakfast….and….then a beer….i thought it would help…clearly I’m an idiot.”

“You are not.” She cast you a glance as she moved around the island, pulling open the fridge door, “this is all leftover take out?”

“I’m sorry.” You nearly whimpered, your heart still beating out of your chest, worried that she would punish you, tears blurring your eyes “I got the groceries yesterday and meant to meal prep but I’m so fucking tired after serving snooty politicians all day the last thing I want to do is work more…” your breath caught in your throat and your heart skyrocketed, “no offence..M’am.”

“Oh kitten….” Heather’s face softened as she turned back to you, “you need to breathe, to relax.” She shut the fridge, “are you feeling better yet?”

“Barely.”

“Okay.” She turned back to the fridge, pulling out the bottle of rose and grabbing an empty glass, “I know you’re not supposed to mix alcohol with it, but I think you deserve it, and it might help knock you out for a bit. I feel like you’re burnt out, two jobs plus I know you’ve been training new kids like crazy this month. You still have the next three days off, right?”

“Yes M’am.” You managed though a shaky breath, taking the glass of wine from her, managing a small sip as your throat finally started to not feel so swollen anymore.

“Kitten try and finish that, I’m going to run you a bath, see if that helps.”

Before you could even protest, you were left alone, your body still vibrating against the couch as you heard the water start to run. It was a few moments later that Heather came out with a soft smile on her face, cupping your cheek as she laid a kiss on your head.

“Go get in the bath. I’ll take care of everything else. If the heat is too much and making it worse just go lie down in bed, alright?” You gave her a shaky nod, forcing yourself up from the couch, your body still tense and jittery, she handed the bottle of Ativan off to you and gently nudged you toward the bathroom.

Slipping under the water you let out a gentle sigh, while the heat wasn’t exactly ideal it seemed to be at least relaxing your muscles that had been locked up the entire morning. You let your head rest against the tub, closing your eyes as you focussed on breathing, you could hear muffled noises from the bedroom, not totally sure what Heather was doing. You weren’t quite sure how long you managed under the water, as much as you knew it was relaxing your body, it was doing nothing for calming your heart rate. You managed to lug yourself out of the bath, draining it as you swiped the bottle of Ativan, popping a second one under your tongue and sipping back some of the wine Heather had left you.

When you pulled yourself together enough to get into the bedroom, it was clear what she’d done, fresh sheets on the bed, fluffy duvet waiting for you alongside plush pillows. You let out a quiet groan, dropping against it as the second pill mixed with the wine started to knock you out, not to mention the complete and utter exhaustion from fighting back the intense anxiety for the past twelve hours.

*

You weren’t sure how much later it was when you finally woke up, but you knew it had to have been late afternoon, the sun having already started to slowly sink in the sky. You could hear the light rumble of the dryer in the distance, when you rolled over, you noticed your phone plugged in on the nightstand, double checking the time. You’d been out for hours. You also had a slew of missed notifications, a couple from your work app, confirming shifts over the next week, a few Facebook ones you didn’t care about, and a couple of texts from Becca, inviting you out to the movies that night. You grumbled quietly, shooting her off a reply that you were busy, you weren’t but after the day you’d had, the idea of having to go out in public and deal with your coworkers was not ideal.

You shoved out of bed, pausing to change into a cozy pair of pyjama shorts, and a hoodie. Your body heat was finally lowered enough, you could still feel a slight amount of jitters rocking through your body, but you felt a world of better. Even just knowing that you had Ativan made you feel so much more relaxed, that you wouldn’t have to try and fight it on your own.

When you pulled open the bedroom door, you brow furrowed at the sight of Heather at your kitchen island, a row of Tupperware containers in front of her as she scooped something out of a pan into them. She was more casually dressed than normal, a pair of expensive leggings and a three quarter sleeved white very cozy looking sweater type blouse on. Though, you honestly couldn’t remember what she’d been wearing earlier, if it wasn’t for the bottle of pills, you probably would’ve forgotten she’d even been there at all. She glanced up at the sound of the door opening, her face moving into a small smile,

“You feeling better kitten?” You nodded, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“You’re….still here?”

She chuckled softly, scooping what was left in the pan to the last container before she turned to rinse it in the sink before placing it in the open dishwasher.

“You had no food.” She shrugged, “I put in an order, figured I’d use my time wisely to make sure you had some meals ready to go for the rest of the week. This way all you have to do is plop them in the microwave.”

“Thank you…” you ducked your gaze from her again, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie as you leant on the island, facing her.

“Hey…” her arm reached across the island, lifting your chin up, “I said none of that, remember?” You nodded, “I told you, I want you healthy and taken care of. And I understand that that can be a pretty fucking hard thing to do for yourself when you’re working as much as someone like you are. You do remember that your weekly allowance is supposed to help alleviate stress, right? I wanted you to not have to work so much.”

“You do remember when this whole thing started I had three jobs right?”

“Do I need to up your allowance?” She asked, raising a brow as she picked up another pan, adding veggies into the containers.

“M’am, no..”

“I will if these assholes refuse to give you a raise.”

“I already got one.” You reminded her, “I’m just extra exhausted from training so many people. It’s hard enough trying to do your job, but to have to stop and verbally explain every single step of what you’re doing and why makes everything take five times longer, and then the customers are way more antsy over how long things are taking. And even if I’m not training, people seek me out for question which throws off my flow and it just…fucking sucks.” You dropped into a stool at the island. Heather raised a brow at you before she poured out a glass of wine, sliding it across to you.

“If you didn’t take another pill when you woke up, I think it’s time for a bit more wine.” She smiled, “dinner’s on its way.” The dryer beeped, pulling her attention, “give me a moment.”

“Heather, just leave it, I’ll deal with it in the morning.”

“You absolutely will not.” She assured, moving around the island, pausing briefly to kiss your temple, “if you feel so inclined, throw the lids on these, toss them in the fridge.” She gestured to the containers before disappearing into the laundry room.

You shifted off the stool, still feeling the exhaustion in your body as you moved around it, as you started to clip lids onto containers you glanced up to the rest of the apartment.

Your brow furrowed at the sight, you knew Heather had mentioned more than once that her ‘taking care of you’ extended beyond the bedroom, but she usually paid someone to do whatever was needed. Today, there was something different, her showing up when you were at your worst, encouraging you in the right direction, and reminding you that you were worthy and she wasn’t upset over something that you couldn’t control? The bath, the fresh sheets? On top of that she’d cooked enough food to last you the week, done your laundry, and your living room was completely tidied and clean, all the dirty dishes waiting in the dishwasher. Along with how gentle she was being with you, making sure you were taken care of, there was something nearly maternal about it. You started to feel yourself nearly melt at the feeling, that she actually did care about you, as you stacked the prepped meals up and slipped them into the fridge.

You dropped the rest of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, not even noticing the fact that she had managed to put your laundry away while you did so.

“Thought I told you to relax?” There was a slight teasing to her voice as her hand trailed up your side.

“I’m just trying to help.” You admitted, “you really don’t have to do all of this.”

“We all need help sometimes, even if you don’t know how to ask for it.” Her eyes gleamed for a moment before she pressed a kiss to your forehead, “and you need a fucking break.” She nudged you back to your stool and you settled in, your eyes glancing to the clock, noticing it was basically dinner time.

“Shouldn’t you be home by now?” You asked and Heather chuckled,

“Normally? Yes.” She shot you a grin, “Rob’s away for the next bit at a conference.” She let out a soft sigh, pouring herself out a glass of wine as she leant against the island. “My original plan for your weekend was to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name, not let you out of my sight for three days….but…all things considered…” she took a large sip, “you need some relaxing.”

“Oh…” your breath caught into your throat, “M’am, I mean…I could still..”

“No.” Her voice hardened, “at least not tonight. Tonight you’re going to eat dinner, drink some wine and we can watch a couple of movies. I want you calm, safe and asleep at a reasonable hour, and I’m making you breakfast tomorrow.”

“Are….are you…staying?” You asked hesitantly, glancing up at her surprised with the soft smile on her face.

“Unless you don’t want me to.” She sucked back more wine, “kitten I do think you deserve some undivided attention, and this seemed like the most opportune moment. You’re off and I don’t have to be home until Thursday.”

“What about work?”

“They can try to call if they really want to.” She shrugged, “I may need to steal your desk for a few emails or virtual meetings, but aside from that I’m all yours.” Her phone suddenly buzzed, distracting her for a moment, “that’s the pizza, go get settled on the couch and pick a movie or show.”

“Pizza?” You raised a brow, even knowing Heather was a regular human, you didn’t expect her to be one to order pizza when she was trying to baby you.

“Yes, pizza.” She chuckled, “we all have our guilty pleasures, don’t we?”

“And here I thought yours was younger women.” You teased, your confidence back and she barked back a laugh, rolling her eyes at you.

“You’re ridiculous kitten. Now….go get settled.” She gestured to the couch again and you huffed, grabbing the wine bottle and glasses before you dropped into the couch, nestling under the blankets as you skimmed through the available entertainment.

Heather paused to collect a couple of plates and the roll of paper towels before she joined you on the couch. You suggested a couple of different movies, though she let you take control, wanting to make sure you had the best night you could after your hellish day. You were honestly surprised, once again, when her free arm laid around the back of the couch, and she didn’t even wince as you nestled into her shoulder. You let out a heavy yawn near the end of the second movie and she chuckled, pressing a kiss to your head.

While the credits rolled, she took the time to clean up, tossing the leftovers into the fridge, and the plates into the dishwasher before starting it. She couldn’t help but smile softy at the way your eyes were drooping as you tried to pay attention to the finale of the movie.

“Kitten…” the demanding in her voice pulled your attention from the t.v and you let out another yawn, “it’s bedtime.” She nodded toward the bedroom.

“I know.” You yawned, standing and tossing the blanket onto the couch behind you as you flicked off the t.v, “you can go. I promise I’m just going to brush my teeth and go to sleep.”

“I’m not going anywhere….remember?” She smirked and your heart nearly jumped into your throat as she smirked.

“Oh..” you breathed, “I…I didn’t think you meant it.”

“I did.” She smiled, flicking the light off, “now…bed…”

You followed her lead, swiftly brushing your teeth and shucking the hoodie as you slipped under the covers. She only took a moment in the ensuite after you, returning in her own silky pyjama set that you weren’t totally sure where it came from (though you had been passed out for more than half the day). She slid under the covers, an arm wrapping around you,

“Remember that this doesn’t happen often kitten.”

“I know Mommy.” You yawned again, nestling into her chest, your arms wrapping around her middle, “I can at least take advantage in the meantime?” You smiled softly and she chuckled.

“That’s my good girl.” She stoked at your hair softly, “now…get some sleep.

”Are you going to be here when I wake up?” You asked, your voice slurred with sleep.

“Did I not tell you I’ll be here for the next three days?” She asked with a laugh.

Though this time you didn’t respond, your chest rising slowly as you fell asleep against her. Heather smirked, turning off the bedside light as she sunk deeper into the bed, letting herself cuddle you for once. It wasn’t something she ever did, wasn’t something she had been planning on doing this weekend, but she knew you needed it. A bad day was one thing, but a bad day that nearly sent you to the hospital was way fucking worse. She was glad she was able to help you as much as she could. And honestly, it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep with your warmth against her.

_________ @lesbianologist @screenee @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @laurenhope13 @imlike-so-gaydude @svulife-rl @gay-ass-bitch @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @paulson-hargitay @molllss @solemnnova @svushots @nocreditinthestraightworld @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @thatgaygiraffesquirrelgirl @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @rosiewritesagain @imaginaryoperagloves @wandasbrat @lustvolle-liebe @disn3y7 @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @swimmingstudentchaos891 @anne-gillettes-wh0r3 @season4scullyhair @whimsicallymad @alexusonfire @mmmmokdok @lazarettta @muscatmusic18 @sia2raw @ladysc @Annieray2020 @dxtery

[angria]

Yesterday’s session ended up being pretty helpful based on the analogy T used regarding my feelings of emptiness and not knowing who I am without trauma.  

He was curious about the empty feeling and I described how, ever since partial and switching my meds, I no longer have the intense, all-consuming intrusive thoughts, misery, or suicidality.  It’s like there is all this space in my head now and so I just feel empty.  Is this what regulation is supposed to feel like?  I’m so used to the intensity of emotion and rapid swinging on top of the heavy weight of suicidality.  T mentioned how socially active I have been lately and I said those are just distractions.  When I am in my apartment alone with nothing to do?  Just this constant emptiness.  He then pointed out I still need time to recharge, how that is not empty.  And yes, that is not empty, but the empty feels separate from self-care or resting.  I started on my whole people-will-stop-caring because oh she’s fine now and we don’t have to worry about her.  T shook his head, saying that people will care more now.  There is no longer as much stigma or avoidance around me. And this time gives me the opportunity to focus on my relationships with friends, eventually a partner, when I am not entirely consumed with putting out the fires (or crises).  On top of parts of me that want to get better…I go to therapy, I go to a supportive and loving community, I seek out treatment, I take medication, I choose to live in the city (vs. my home-state).  I didn’t have anything to say to that because it is technically true, as much as I don’t want to admit it.

This is when T came up with the analogy of a house and furniture, explaining how I have built the house and now that I am no longer hyper-focused on the fires, I can figure out which furniture to fill the house with.  Then T said something that went right through me: “You are not just your illness.  You are not just a trauma survivor.”  As I was looking off the screen, he continued, “It won’t always feel this empty.  You will fill the house with furniture, one by one, and you are already starting to do that.  Look at this new job.  You made that happen!  Filling the house will take awhile; there is no timeline as Fisher and van der Kolk say.  But, the emptiness will gradually lessen.  It’s not all or nothing, like this flip of the switch and the light comes on.  It’s a gradation and it will dip at times, but you will fill the house.”

T went on to describe how I now have the time to learn what I want, what my values are, and who I am since I am no longer fighting the fires.  Going back to the analogy, he said I have the time to figure out what kinds of furniture I want–the type of paint color, the art on the wall, the books in the bookcase.  However, I am at the point where I am just trying to fill the house with what I need–sofa, fridge, bed, etc.  Whereas the details of what I want will come later.  T explained further by reminding me I am making progress.  I have a job now and so a daily structure.  I continue to expand my social circle.  I will learn what I want in a partner, especially by changing perspective from “not good enough” to asking “does this person deserve me for who I am.”  I will learn to recognize my values and connect them to my everyday life.

I don’t know, the house/furniture example really seemed to make connections for me (on top of being a visual person).  Even though I feel like my house’s foundation is built on sand (which comes from a previous session), to which T immediately challenges me.  This will probably come up again since I need time to process.  Plus, I just really like decorating my actual place and making it my own, so maybe this will shift some perspectives?  To actually want to improve and reach the point where I am doing things I want to do, not having to constantly put out fires?  Not sure I’m ready to admit that yet...