#who have to stay on medications that don't work or make them worse for months till their insurance lets them try a different medication

[mrdragonageherself]

I hope whoever snitched on my man Luigi stubs their toe every other day for the rest of their life and that they are always sick but never sick enough to be able to use their health insurance.

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 18- Master!Miguel x Maid!Reader

"Did you hear? Another maid got fired for trying to flirt with the master." One of the head maids whispered. Another sighed,

"That's five this month. When are these young girls going to learn?"

"What about (Y/n)? She's been here for a while, has she made any comments about our master?"

"Thank goodness no. She is so focused on work that the poor girl might never get a boyfriend!"

        You frowned as you listened to the head maids chatter. You moved away from the wall you were hiding behind. You had no choice but to focus on work because of your bills. It would be a lie if you said you were not interest in the master of his household. Your master, Miguel O'Hara, was a wealthy man who always disappeared for business work. No one questioned anything. You were all hired to keep his mansion clean and tidy.

        Your job was to clean the main dining room. Due to other young maids, no one but the head maids were allowed to clean the master's bedroom. It was too dangerous. It was obvious as to why. The master was tall, toned and handsome. The only time you truly got to see him was when he returned home. Everyone in the mansion greeted him. You always tried to glance at him any other time, but you were afraid of getting caught and fired.

        A soft sigh escaped your lips as you thought about what the head maids said. You wanted a boyfriend, but it felt impossible. Every time you went on a date, something would happen to the person you were seeing. You started to wonder if it was you. As you walked down the hall, you heard a low grunt. Confused, you followed the strange noise and stopped in front of your master's room. You were told to stay as far away from here.

"Um, M-Master, are you okay?" You hesitantly asked, more worried about getting fired.

        It went silent. Taking a step back, you looked around to make sure no one saw you. Perhaps now would be best to leave? Right as you were about to turn your heel, the door opened.

"(Y/n)?" Miguel groaned lowly, leaning against the doorframe. You gulped, staring at him since he looked like he was in pain,

"Are you okay, master?" You asked.

        God, he looked so sexy. His shirt was undone, exposing his toned chest. Miguel was panting for air and sweat was rolling down his forehead. Realizing that your master was in pain, you immediately panicked.

"Master, shall I fetch you some medication? You don't look well," 

"It's just a headache," Miguel told you before sighing, "How are you with head massages?"

"Excuse me?" You were caught off guard by the question. Miguel faced you,

"Medicine won't work, but I'll be better with a head massage."

"Oh, um, I can try. If not, I'm sure one of the head maids ca-"

"I'm asking you. Not them."

        You flinched towards his demand. Agreeing to his request, you followed your master into his bedroom. The one place that all those other maids had failed to enter. You hesitantly followed him, taking in every little detail. The room smelled so good. Hopefully, this won't get you fired. You watched as Miguel laid against the couch, patting the space above his head. 

        You were nervous. What if you did a horrible job? Sitting down, you scooted closer and gulped as your master placed his head on your lap. He was so close! You inhaled softly before starting to rub your fingers against his forehead. You're watched enough videos, so hopefully you could copy what you saw. Hearing his rumbling groan, you bit your lower lip. God, he was so hot.

         Miguel groaned lowly as he relaxed to your touch. His headaches have been getting worse with his workload lately. That and the fact that you kept trying to date men who weren't good enough for you. With all the drama with other maids trying ti flirt with him, Miguel never had a chance to talk to you. You, the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. You, the determined worker. You, the woman he wanted. Miguel was thankful that you passed by his door. This was pleasant.

"Is this alright, master? Am I doing okay?" You asked.

Master.

        That word rolled so nicely off your lips. Miguel lowered his hand to hide his growing erection. Oh how he wanted to hear you cry for him. To drill you with his dick as you called him, master.

"Si. I'm feeling better already," He lowered his voice.

        Miguel was just happy to have his head on your lap. Like a soft cushion. He needed you to keep visiting him. He may be the master of this mansion, but he was still a man. Closing his eyes, Miguel relaxed under your touch. He was going to get used to this.

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

        You tried to hide your smile as you hurried to Miguel's room with his dinner. Ever since he had you massage his head, Miguel had requested you to do for stuff for him. It made your heart flutter that you were getting close to him. All of the head maids shook their heads towards ypu getting cozy with the master, but hell! He requested you!

"Master! I've brought your dinner!" You chirped, knocking befoer entering. Miguel was sitting on his couch,

"(Y/N), you look awfully cheerful today." He said, adoring your smile. You placed his meal in front of him, "Do tell," Miguel loved to hear you ramble about your day.

"Well, I finally paid off one of my bills!" You chirped before hesitating, "That and...my last date asked me for another date. I was kind of wor-"

"Que?" Miguel stopped you in your tracks, "He asked for a second date?"

You could hear Miguel's angry tone, "Um...Yes?" You flinched as Miguel stood and approached you.

"You're not going out with him," He said firmly and stroked your cheek, "You're too good for him."

        That and Miguel was mad that the fucker dared to contact you again after he paid him. Miguel made sure to keep you single so that he could have you to himself.

"M-Master?"

        You glanced up at Miguel, leaning your head into the palm of his hand. They were so big and warm. You could feel your heart race as Miguel moved his hand to your waist. You could feel the tension. Miguel pulled you towards his bed and sat down. His grip still tight against your waist, your uniform blocking his touch.

"(Y/N), tell me what I am to you." Miguel's tone was needy. It made you melt.

"My Master."

"Mhm, you do as I say, right?" He started to draw circles around your waist, "You're not going to date anyone because you're going to be mine. Understood?"

"Y-Yes, Master," You bit your lower lip as he lowered you to his lap.

"I want you to take care of, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered in your ear, "Let me hear your voice."

        You started to tremble as Miguel stroked the outline of your dress. He leaned forward to kiss your neck, removing your collar with his teeth. You let out a small whimper as Miguel sucked on your neck. Heat started to form between your legs as you felt his erection grind against your panties. Tingles shot up your spine as your head flung back from pleasure. Miguel hummed, enjoying your body riding against his hips. Your damp panties starting to stain his pants.

        It was still not enough. You moaned lowly as Miguel brought his hand to your cunt, moving your panties aside to rub your folds. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as you began to ride his hand. His long fingers teasing your entrance, making you clench nothing but air. His hot breathe against your ear as you whimpered from his teasing.

"You have to ask for it." He said with a smirk.

"P-Please, Master."

"That's right, keep begging me." You moaned as Miguel entered two fingers into your pussy, pumping them against your tight gummy walls, "Look at you, about to cum on your master's hand."

"Master~" You tensed as his fingers curled against your pussy, causing you to orgasm, "Hah, Master!"

"Good girl, (Y/N). Always a hard worker," He praised, removing his hand to undo his pants, "Will you continue to work hard for me?"

"Yes, Master."

        You took a moment to catch your breathe as you positioned yourself above him. You moved his hand away from his cock, grabbing it instead. You were hesitant, but after seeing the lust in his eyes, you folded. Pumping his dick a few times, you cried out as he started to stretch your pussy. You were slow, but you kept going down on him, shaking from the intense feeling. Your hands rested against Miguel's chest, trying to finish putting his dick inside you.

        Miguel let out a grunt as he helped. He thrusted upward, causing you to cry loudly. His cock shoved so deep inside you that it made your vision blur for a second. He demanded that you move, to which to listened. Your cries became loud moans as you bounced on his dick. Your body leaned back as you rode him, pleasure overtaking you. Miguel held your waist, one of his thumbs rubbing your clit in the process. This made you cum again.

"Master!"

"Don't stop until your work is done," Miguel gave you an order.

        You whined, slowing down from your high. Miguel gripped your waist, rubbing your clit harder as he started to thrust. Your moans were music to his ears. No other man was going to have you. Not when you worked for him. Not when he was fucking your pussy this good. Changing positions, Miguel had your stomach against the bed, drilling you from behind. The strings of your maid uniform giving him even more of a high.

"Fuck, look at you taking your master's dick so well. Does it feel good? Being fucked by your master?"

"Yes, Master~! Please give me more, Master~!" You begged, gripping onto the bedsheets. Miguel pounded your pussy, making sure to fill you with his cum,

"You'll listen to your master's orders then, right? No dating anyone. This pussy is mine."

"Yes, Master!" You trembled as he kept slapping his dick into you.

"You're my personal maid. I'll take care of all your bills and you. You deserve everything, mi amor (my love)." He groaned, watching your pussy suck his dick more, "Fuck, you look so good with my dick in you. My perfect girl."

"Master!"

        Miguel had you working hard throughout the night. He made sure to take care of you and your issues. You were his personal maid, making sure to take care of all of his 'issues'. Eventually, you graduated from his maid to his wife. 

"C'mon, baby. Say it for me." Miguel groaned as he had you on your back, his dick pounding your pussy, "Just once more."

"Master~" You purred, arching your back as you orgasmed. Miguel moaned in response, giving you his fill,

"That's right, baby. I'm your Master."

[spicy-apple-pie]

HAAAAAPPY BIRTHDAYYYY 🥳🥳💖🥳🥳

also

HOLY VIKTOR SPICY, YOUR VISIONS ARE FIRE ASF

(Gimmeeeeee mooOOOReee)

well who am I to deny

I think you're referring to my post about Viktor and Jayce adopting Powder, so I'll share another vision bestowed upon me.

A couple of months after the three of them move into their shared apartment, Powder catches a cold.

It's not a bad cold, just aches and pains, sore throat, an icky cough, and a very mild fever. But the poor boys have no idea what to do and decide their best course of action is to take her to the emergency room. They don't even get triaged as the nurse kindly tells them to bring her home, give her lots of fluids and lots of rest. And if the fever gets worse, then to bring her in.

Jayce has to take care of Powder for the most part, as Viktor would rather not risk getting sick with his condition. Jayce is understanding and urges him to go into the lab to work while he stays home to care for Powder. Viktor agrees that would be best, but really he barely gets any work done. He stares off into space, worrying about Powder. In Zaun, such an illness can be deadly due to a lack of access to medical care. Especially for Viktor as a child. Logically, he understands that Powder a) doesn't have any underlying medical conditions and b) has better access to medicine, even if it's just over the counter cough syrup. But he still worries.

And Powder understands why Viktor is avoiding her. Jayce explained it fairly well. But up until this point, she's been pretty attached to Viktor. Jayce is... okay. He makes good food and carries her when her legs are tired. But Jayce doesn't really get it. Not like Viktor does. When Powder gets sad, she much rather Viktor's blunt honesty to Jayce's promises. Promises that she know are impossible to keep. But as she erupts into coughing fits that hurts her chest and brings tear to her eyes, Jayce rubs her back and tells her that coughing helps get all the mucus out. He makes her some soup, and she can tell how good it is, despite not being able to taste it. He presses a cool cloth to her forehead, and doesn't ask why that makes her cry so much. He hugs her tight as she cries out for Vi or Vander and doesn't ask who they are. He teaches her how to play poker and chess when she's bored. He helps her brainstorm new ideas for projects. And Powder thinks that maybe Jayce isn't such a pompous Pilty after all.

He still is, just not as much as she thought.

After Viktor deems her non contagious, they get take out and play poker together. Viktor wins most of the hands, Jayce scolds him for not letting Powder win a couple. Powder overhears and tells them not to let her win, she wants to win on her own. Viktor gives Jayce an "told you so" smirk and Jayce rolls his eyes.

[spider-mancan]

peter and tony are broken up and everyone knows it. nick fury knew it when he made peter accept this mission, his teammates knew it when they piled into the jet, and tony knew it when he sat down as far from peter as possible

peter is awkward on a good day but he's not sure he can handle being side-eyed by the most powerful people in the world. black widow's round kick has nothing on her disapproving look, but peter does his best not to pay attention.

he wasn't even the one to break up with tony. it was mutual, after months of barely finding time for each other. peter had tried, but with college and...who is he kidding? if tony wanted to make it work, he would have.

with that in mind, peter tries not to stare at tony through the reflection in the glass and tony tries flirt with the flight attendant and only one of them is successful.

the mission goes fine. peter almost expected to be useless, but considering about 75% of the fight happening on scaffolding, he was much more active than expected.

peter doesn't think about getting thrown off by a ninja (which, like okay, that's pretty cool) and being caught by tony. he would have caught himself just fine, but he hadn't even hit free fall before his nearly brained himself on tony's chest plate. and then tony did the extremely predictable thing and told him to pay more attention and didn't flip his face plate up but peter knew it was a little derisive but he still really wanted to see tony's face, just a little.

he wasn't handling the break up well.

afterwards peter is sitting on the ambulance passing out shock blankets to hostages and tony shoots a syringe of pain medication into peter's forearm before peter realizes its happening

"you threw your shoulder out," tony says.

"you shouldn't be stabbing people when you're not a doctor," peter replies dully, even though he's pretty sure he tore his trap. tony opens his mouth and peters cuts him off because it's familiar. "not THAT kind of doctor."

tony wipes off the bead of blood on peter's arm from the needle. its a little useless, since the suit is torn and his skin is greasy with sweat and blood. "take better care of yourself, then."

peter scoffs, because tony is even worse than peter is. when he asks karen, friday snitches on the limp tony is hiding with the armor -- old knee injury. peter knew about it because there was a time when he knew everything about tony.

he could count the moles on tony's thigh and trace the shape of tony's scars and now its been four months since tony really looked him in the eye. its been longer than that since they talked about something that meant anything.

its another week before peter gathers the nerve to take the suit to tony for repairs.

he wonders if tony is still limping, or if someone held tony down and took him to medbay. tony had stayed in the area by himself after the mission to schmooze, and peter had flown back with a pleasantly numb arm and the avengers trying to figure out if peter did something wrong.

it doesn't matter when peter says nothing happened, or reminds them that the breakout was both mutual and none of their business. bruce is the only one mature enough to tell peter that tony is miserable, so clearly it wasn't really mutual at all.

well, it's great that he's miserable. they were miserable together too, because peter always thought tony missed the thread of women in and out his door and tony proved him right by putting out the queue line as soon as he was single

"don't trust all those articles," pepper told him, near the end.

peter thought it was mean, so he didn't say it out loud, but he wasn't sure he could trust tony either, since tony wouldn't talk to him.

it was childish. in the moment, peter and tony both knew peter was being childish. four months later, peter knows he was being childish -- it's also childish of him to hesitate outside the door of the lab, psyching himself up like he's about to go to war.

it's just tony. peter tells himself that for two days before he shows up at the tower, and he's telling himself that now, even though tony has never been Just Tony and peter is childish and he misses him and peter didn't want to break up but he's scared and he's lonely.

friday opens the door before peter knocks. tony looks up in alarm, double-take, and then cooly goes back to sewing up the kevlar on widow's uniform. "long time no see, kid."

its not warm, but it warms peter. he's awkward, quiet, and smooths the suit out flat on the worktable that was his until it wasn't. there's still web fluid stuck on the corner. tony left his photos up on the wall.

peter watches tony finish widow's suit, and the wordlessly passes the spider suit over and watches tony run his fingers over the torn fibers. "next time it will be better," tony tells them both. "next time it won't tear."

after two hours, peter brings tony a sandwich, pats dum-e on the head, and says, "i think i'm still in love with you," and it's quiet except for the sizzle of the solder gun.

and tony just puts his tools down and looks at peter and his eyes are a little wet and his jaw is clenched. "don't do this, pete." and a few years ago maybe peter wouldn't have but this is important enough that he doesn't care what tony has to say about it.

"i just...wanted you to tell me i was crazy," peter admits. "i thought...it wasn't about the--the girls. i know that...i know that you wouldn't. didn't." the clock ticks. tony doesn't say anything, and peter clears his throat. "i just...missed you. i was angry. i don't know."

"i'm an old man," tony tells him. "i'm not interested in playing around anymore. i'm not going to be alive long enough to play around--don't tell me i'm wrong." he's not even looking at peter, but they know each other backwards and forwards, and he knows peter will tell him off.

"i'd bring you back," peter says quietly. he's never thought about it until now, but he would. he knows that he would. "even if you hated me. if you never forgive more or...well. i would bring you back."

"i don't know if that's what i'd want." tony picks up the gun again and returns to working on the circuitry, lovingly crafted to protect the love of his life, even if the thought makes him choke. "i'm just saying, kid, that this is it for me."

"you have a funny way of showing it." peter won't pretend he's not bitter. tony ignored his calls and cancelled plans and then swept peter up in his arms and kissed him and then disappeared again, like a ghost. like a man on the run.

"you're it for me," tony says again, eyes on his work, "and that terrifies me."

peter is still sitting on his stool and his workbench, hands folded in his lap like he's getting scolded. but he can't stop himself from scowling. "why? we want the same things, so why is it...why are you terrified?"

"i can't be the guy on your posters, pete." the circuit sparks and tony tosses the soldering gun away with a huff. dum-e whirrs over to pick it up and tony runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. "you're so young. i can't predict what you're going to want in ten, twenty years."

"i don't need you to." peter consciously relaxes his hands, smoothing them over the rough denim of his jeans. sweaty. nervous. pointed. "i just need you to be here."

tony curses, and then his stool is kicked over and he's rounding his workbench and he's pulling on peter's clothes and he's burying his face in peter's neck and breathing so deep, like he's been drowning and now he's on the shore.

peter is apologizing and tony is telling him not to, and tony might be crying or maybe the collar of peter's shirt is just mysteriously damp, but when peter pulls back and kisses tony's cheek and his nose and his forehead it's good. it's so good.

"it's been so horrible," tony groans, and then cups peter's face and kisses his mouth, sweet. it's just as good. "it's been the worst four months since i was dying that one time."

and peter punches tony lightly on the side and then sighs into the kiss like he's been longing to.

[briarpatch-kids]

hi! do you have any tips on talking to doctors/PTs about mobility aids?

I definitely got way better results talking about how I want to live my life and a mobility aid would help a lot. Have a goal like "I want to be able go around my house instead of moving from bed to couch and nothing else" or "I want to have an active life in school and a mobility aid would make that possible" because in a doctor's mind mobility aids are usually a last resort. (Even though they aren't) Your goals should be less, "I dont want to be in so much pain" and more "i want to live an active life or i want to go to college/start or stay working/engage in student life and I think a mobility aid will help that" because "less pain" is a vague goal that will make more ableist doctors worry that you're "giving up" or that you'll live a sedentary life and end up sicker than you would have if you didn't have the mobility aid. (Which is probably untrue. Very few people want to sit around and do nothing.)

If you're undiagnosed, pitch it as a "in the meantime" thing, meaning like, you want to figure out what's going on, but you also don't want to live in limbo just waiting to get better. I got my first wheelchair by telling the doctor that I'm tired of waiting for a diagnosis and wanted to stay in college while we tried to figure out what was going on. All of that is true, but by then I also knew that whatever was happening was degenerative, and I probably wasn't gonna ever be able to go back to "normal" like the doctor thought I would.

If they want you to do PT, do it. Give them the same goals you gave your doctor and try your hardest to work on them. A lot of times things like "I did the exercises you gave me but they made me worse" are actually important for the PT to know because it can help narrow down what WILL help and will help them come up with realistic goals for your therapy. Also, physical therapists are the ones who usually determine what kind of mobility aid you need and will send you to things like a wheelchair evaluation if you need custom mobility aids.

The custom mobility aid process in the US is usually doctor -> physical therapy -> wheelchair evaluation with PT and DME provider -> durable medical equipment company for specs -> insurance fuckery and approval -> ordering -> delivery or pickup and maybe a seating evaluation plus adjustments. It takes like 6 months plus, so try and get a rental standard version of what you need while you wait)

[rrivlet]

let me tell you where therapy and psychiatry has gotten me real quick, as a person with schizophrenia that includes delusions, psychosis, and an inability to cooperate sometimes:

AT LEAST 6 ward stays (2 in childhood) which separated me from my actual support network and put me on prescription drugs that I didn't really want, many of which made things actively worse.

MONTHS of residential treatment as a teenager against my will, where I suffered heavy abuse, bullying, gaslighting about what I was experiencing, and other assorted sorts of miseries.

ACTIVE HARM from many of my medications due to side effects, improper administration, bad instructions, pharmacy shortages leading to withdrawals, misdiagnosis, and stigma around said meds.

FEAR OF COMMUNICATION about serious mental issues, even with loved ones that I know will not harm me or send me to a ward to be abused and/or neglected again.

TRAUMA from everything mentioned above, and much, much more.

Listen, I know that psychiatry and therapy is necessary for some people, and it was for me too, at one point in time. I've had far too many bad experiences by now, and far too many frustrations with how I and others were/are treated.

If someone tells you they don't want to do therapy, drugs, or hospital visits about their problems, LISTEN TO THEM!!!!!!!!!

The brain damage and loss of cognitive function I experienced from this (and continue to experience while I try to get off these blasted medications) has made my life hell, and now I'm dependent on stimulants just to function. At all.

All of this because people are so scared of weird people who "act up" (read: experience an episode or crisis) in public. Treatments have been forced on me since I was 10 or so, and all of them turned me into a zombie that was barely capable of thinking, let alone living.

The meds help some people, yes, but they're often a bandaid fix to the issue that is exacerbating environmental factors. Therapy helps some people, yes, but for a lot of folks like me, it just leads to hospital stays that don't help, medication that doesn't help, and trauma that makes things worse.

The current current treatments of acute mental health issues are, buy and large, systemically oppressive to disabled people like me who don't have a hope for "independence."

Again, some treatments work for some people without causing them harm, but the point of me saying ANY of this is that if someone doesn't want to engage with the system, THERE'S PROBABLY A REALLY GOOD REASON FOR THAT!

[emojellyace08]

I had this very sad idea..can we have a reader who has like this terminal illness and they don't really have much time to live yk? Like maybe 6 or 5 months. So they try to hide it from their partner but fail to. How do u think lookism characters would react to this?

Lookism Cast x Gender Neutral Reader (Angst)

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐥) 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 (𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲) 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬/𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞-𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞, 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 (𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞 :)

It might not be obvious that he's a sweetheart at times but he's the complete opposite of it. He's so loyal to you. When your symptoms started to show up, he's always there to take care of you. He even left his work behind to make sure you're eating and sleeping well.

But sadly life is no fairy tale as your sickness started to get worse. You decided to set up a schedule for your check-up alone as you don't want to bother him with his duties. You thought that it's just a severe headache or your body being simply tired and needed pills to ease the pain. But your world shattered into pieces when your doctor finally revealed the results that you have a terminal disease. Everyone in your position will panic as the promises, goals in life, and dreams that you made to yourself, to your family, to your friends, and most especially to him may come to an end. As panicked as you are, of course you didn't announced this big news to them as you don't want them to feel distressed at your situation.

Yet your loved ones and him noticed your sudden change of energy. The change of your face and body that was once energetic and productive seemed to have changed for the worse. Eyes hollow, your daily routine changed as you started to stay in your bed for longer hours, and you sometimes eating less. He's really worried at you but you just brushed it off saying that you're fine, lying to them as you want to keep the burden to yourself. There would be times that you would accidentally lash out your stress and anger about yourself to him, which makes him surprised and confused about why you are acting like this. "Y/N Can you just let me-" "WILL YOU LEAVE ME ALONE FOR A MOMENT?! YOU KEPT BOTHERING ME WITH SIMPLE THINGS THAT I CAN DO FOR MYSELF." you replied in a bold tone as you can almost see him tearing up at your sudden aggression. "What? Love, w-why are you acting like this?". he muttered, his face scrunched feeling like a hindrance yet you want him to feel the exact opposite, you trying to force yourself not to burst down crying with him right now. Well, what's the point of living when you only have years or probably just months left? Is the only answer you can think about yet you have lost courage to say it in front of him as you don't want him to become more puzzled as he is with your recent behavior.

But it didn't took long for him to finally know your secret. Since your place has turned into a mess like your life and health, he insisted to help you out in cleaning your apartment/bed room. Just as he's wiping off the dust in the shelf and drawers, he saw your medical tests some of the x-rays, medical bills, and receipts of the pills that you have to take to reduce the chance of your illness getting worse and lengthen your chance of surviving. His mind would pause to think for seconds as he finally realized what's happening and what's your situation. Is this why you're acting distant to him? To your family and to your friends? Is this why he's not seeing you happy and energetic like you supposed to be? What about your plans with him? Most especially, what about your health? Your physical and mental wellness?

He'll try to approach you softly since he doesn't want to overwhelm you despite him having a mental crisis and being emotional about why you didn't open up about it. "Babe, what's this?" he confronted you while showing the medical papers making you dropped the dishes on the sink that you are washing. "HEY-W-Where did you find that?" you stuttered, you rubbing your hands and arms on your apron and rushed to him while he examines your medical sheets. "Love, be honest with me. I-Is this why you're acting different?" he asked as you can see his mouth turn into a frown, his eyebrows scrunching in distress while his orbs turn red as tears fall down his cheeks. "Well.. I... I tried to speak up about it but... I'm scared that you'll worry too much and work harder just for the bills. I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to..." you sobbed as he drops the papers on the floor, him hugging and comforting you as he realized that you're scared to leave him and leave everyone who became dear to you.

After that confrontation, you'll start to open up to him about what you're going through. You explaining that you only had few years to live and you'll be considered lucky if you lasted longer. Hearing this from you shatters his heart like fragile glass. Listening to this is enough for him to spiral into a pit of depression when he realizes that he can only spend some remaining years with the love of his life. He wanted you to stay with him longer. He wants to see you reach your own dreams and he wants to have a family with you in the near future. But this obstacle is challenging your relationship right now, but that doesn't mean that he'll quickly give up. He'll make sure that you'll live and cherish your life longer.

He'll make sure that he'll attend with you with every check-ups that you're scheduled in. He'll even prepare you healthy snacks even when he's not so confident about his cooking skills, make sure that you're taking your medications in the right time, and he'll cuddle with you in bed. And there would be lots of times that you'll have soft talks with him about the things that you missed doing with him like going out on dates even when it's not your anniversary or even if there's no special occasion. But you remained to be thankful for being gifted that you have a partner like him who remained patient and understanding about your situation. You may not notice that he's trying to force back his tears again as he doesn't want to make you upset when you talk about your thoughts. Your pain is even killing him more, mentally and emotionally.

When you started staying in the hospital when you're condition is starting to get worse, he started to staying and spending more time with you. He even abandons his work/studies at times which makes you genuinely worried that he may get sued for leaving his responsibilities behind. But he doesn't care anymore if he needs to leave you alone in the hospital room. But he's also stressed about how he's going to pay the medical bills if he doesn't get up and work. Luckily, his family and his friends are considerate enough to help him out in taking good care of you. It takes a while for the both of you to adjust with your new lifestyle, but you're really glad to spend more time with them as they'll even surprise you in your birthdays!

And when he's starting to feel stressed out about your bills and your remaining time left, he'll unexpectedly burst into tears no matter what time or place he's in. As much as you don't want him to see him like this, his eyes would water down when he's beside you on the bed while kissing your hand a bunch of times. Him making eye-contact with your exhausted ones just triggers that familiar yet different kind of anxiety that he's feeling this past few days. His cries would be silent, but remember that the ones who tears up silently are the ones with the most worries, troubles, and burdens that's in their shoulders. "Don't leave me, you promised." he muttered while leaning on your lap while you pat and soothe his hair. "I won't. I promised to fight back right?" you whispered while he sobs even more, his tears staining the sheets yet you don't care about the mess as you try to comfort him even though you know that there's a possibility that the time may come for you no matter how hard you fought. "Love you... love you so and very much..." he would repeat to make you know that you're not alone in this battle. "I love you more darling." cooing him as you leaned closer to kiss his head to calm him down.

His friends and your family would notice his depressed state as he opens up about his fears of losing you, the person who made him love himself and to be open with new people. His friends would share a tear with him as they feel empathy, the feeling of loosing their special someone in the hands of a deadly disease. They would give him a few encouraging and soft pats on his back and shoulders to ease himself up. But no matter what methods of comfort they tried to lift up his spirits, his monsters would eat him wholly as the darkness would linger in his mind.

He's the type to cuddle with you on the hospital bed despite him being hesitant that you'll feel squished when he sleeps beside you. But if you insist to, his wish is to make you happy and content so he'll gently place himself beside you. And he'll sing you a lullaby or your favorite song if you asked to. He'll get nervous when you asked him to as he's afraid that him singing when you drift of to sleep maybe your final goodbye to him. "Silly, I'm not going away. I just wanna hear your voice, please?" you begged as he chuckles while kissing your head leisurely. "Okay. I'll sing for you."

⤷ 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨 (𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐞), 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐄𝐥𝐢 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐠, 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐞, 𝐉𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐧 & 𝐉𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦 𝐊𝐰𝐚𝐤, 𝐉𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐰𝐚𝐤, 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐦, 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐊𝐰𝐨𝐧, 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐧, 𝐆𝐨𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐦, 𝐆𝐮𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 (𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲), 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐨 (𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞), 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐆𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐢𝐦, 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐧, 𝐘𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐤, 𝐁𝐚𝐞𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐥 (𝐍𝐨. 𝟏) 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐞 (𝐃𝐆), 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐦 (𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦), 𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐏𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧, 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐡𝐞𝐢, 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐇𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐡𝐧, 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐛 𝐉𝐢

A/N: I want it to make it short but powerful. (Literally sobbing rn while writing this I remember my grandma who passed away years ago and I didn't even gave her a proper goodbye). But ty for requesting.

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐜𝐞𝟎𝟖. 𝐑𝐞-𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐲!

[sm64mario]

My name is Walter Hartwell White. I live at 308 Negra Arroyo Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104. This is my confession. If you're watching this tape, I'm probably dead, murdered by my brother-in-law Hank Schrader. Hank has been building a meth empire for over a year now and using me as his chemist. Shortly after my 50th birthday, Hank came to me with a rather, shocking proposition. He asked that I use my chemistry knowledge to cook methamphetamine, which he would then sell using his connections in the drug world. Connections that he made through his career with the DEA. I was... astounded, I... I always thought that Hank was a very moral man and I was... thrown, confused, but I was also particularly vulnerable at the time, something he knew and took advantage of. I was reeling from a cancer diagnosis that was poised to bankrupt my family. Hank took me on a ride along, and showed me just how much money even a small meth operation could make. And I was weak. I didn't want my family to go into financial ruin so I agreed. Every day, I think back at that moment with regret. I quickly realized that I was in way over my head, and Hank had a partner, a man named Gustavo Fring, a businessman. Hank essentially sold me into servitude to this man, and when I tried to quit, Fring threatened my family. I didn't know where to turn. Eventually, Hank and Fring had a falling out. From what I can gather, Hank was always pushing for a greater share of the business, to which Fring flatly refused to give him, and things escalated. Fring was able to arrange, uh I guess I guess you call it a "hit" on my brother-in-law, and failed, but Hank was seriously injured, and I wound up paying his medical bills which amounted to a little over $177,000. Upon recovery, Hank was bent on revenge, working with a man named Hector Salamanca, he plotted to kill Fring, and did so. In fact, the bomb that he used was built by me, and he gave me no option in it. I have often contemplated suicide, but I'm a coward. I wanted to go to the police, but I was frightened. Hank had risen in the ranks to become the head of the Albuquerque DEA, and about that time, to keep me in line, he took my children from me. For 3 months he kept them. My wife, who up until that point, had no idea of my criminal activities, was horrified to learn what I had done, why Hank had taken our children. We were scared. I was in Hell, I hated myself for what I had brought upon my family. Recently, I tried once again to quit, to end this nightmare, and in response, he gave me this. I can't take this anymore. I live in fear every day that Hank will kill me, or worse, hurt my family. I... All I could think to do was to make this video in hope that the world will finally see this man, for what he really is.

Mamma mia! That'sa quite a story! I'm'a sorry you've had to go through all that, Walter.

But hey, cheer up! Life is'a like a game. Sometimes you get stuck on a really tough level, but you just gotta keep trying until you beat it! Don't let Bowser - I mean Hank - get you down. You're the hero of your own story!

Remember, no matter how bad things seem, there's always a way to overcome it if you stay determined and never give up. That's the Mario way!

[defilerwyrm]

May i ask how's the recovery process after gender affirming surgeries?

If you mean how's it going now: my last surgery was in 2022 so at this point I'm 100% healed up. I was SUPPOSED to get my implants in December 2023 but my insurance company has been fucking me over at every turn so that's still on hold.

If you mean how was it at the time:

Top surgery (2018) was pretty easy for me since I have a desk job. I stayed with family in town for the first 2 weeks, during which time I basically did nothing but sleep, wake up long enough to use the toilet, take a dry shower, eat something, take more pain meds, then go back to sleep. I had 4 weeks off work, so after that I was a little sore and still confined to button-down shirts because I couldn't raise my arms above shoulder level; then I went back to work and all was normal for the next month. But...

Because I am an unlucky son of a bitch, I had a rare complication: I developed a seroma that dehysced (i.e. a hole opened up along my suture line that leaked large amounts of greasy, bright orange fluid made up of lymph and blood), which was not painful at all but was absolutely disgusting and very alarming to experience—but not a medical emergency or anything, and was easily fixed with a revision surgery. I took another 2 (I think?) weeks off work and it's been fine ever since. The left side of my chest is a little funny but I don't really care, it was fully worth it. Please note that I did not have drains. If you have drains, you're even LESS likely to have this problem.

Hysterectomy (2019) was much the same: I slept through the first two weeks and spent the next 2 in a recliner with an ice pack on my lower belly, playing a lot of Stardew Valley and getting into Critical Role. I was lucky enough to live with a friend who loves cooking. I ate a lot of soup. The soreness wasn't that bad, but I have a policy of staying ahead of the pain by using timers for how often I should be taking them. The worst part of it was the pain meds, tbh, because I really don't like the way oxycodone makes me feel; at the same time, I'm grateful for that fact because it keeps me from forming a habit.

Phalloplasty etc (2021) was kinda rough to start. I had 3 months off work that time. Slept through the first 2 weeks as usual. But for the first 3 weeks total I had a suprapubic catheter in and man I fuckin' hate being cathed. I felt like I needed to pee at all times, even immediately after draining the cath bag. Awful. Learning to pee standing up was...let's just say I did a lot of laundry and cleaning, lol. This was made worse by the fact that I had two fistulae (holes that go through the urethra all the way to the outside)—like I said, I've got bad luck. One of them healed up all on its own, like most of them do. The other one required a revision 8 months later, which meant being cathed again for a while, SIGH. But back to post-op for phallo: I had physical therapy for my left arm to make sure I kept a good range of motion; I kept the graft bandaged with daily gentle cleanup, application of ointments, and rebandaging; and had to take dry showers for the first uhhhhh. 2 weeks at least, maybe 3 or 4? After I got the cath out, things were MUCH easier. I was just kinda vaguely tired and sore and spent most of my time lying down. My libido came back at the start of the 2nd month, which was frustrating af because it wasn't till the start of the 3rd month that I was healed up enough to do anything about it (but once I could, holy FUCK it was incredible).

[copperbadge]

Sam, how did you find your therapist and build such a good working relationship? Every attempt I’ve made at therapy seems to fizzle out after a few months… and no therapist has ever understood the RSD aspect of my ADHD, which makes it all feel a little worse every time I try.

I mean, I think really we're still building it -- I haven't had her more than a couple of months and functionally it's been an every-two-weeks situation most of the time because we keep having to move/cancel. I don't know that I can really speak intelligently to building a relationship with a therapist because this is the first time I've ever done it where I was an adult and in control. As for finding one...

Chicago has a group called Clarity Clinic, which is like a WeWork for mental health professionals -- they offer scheduling, billing, and IT/office space to local people who I think are mostly independent operators otherwise. They have a directory that is highly filterable, so I found my psychiatrist there by filtering to stuff like Adult ADHD and medication management. He's great, but he didn't want to be my therapist and I didn't want him to. When I decided on therapy, I asked him if he knew anyone he could recommend, since he knew what my deal was in terms of personality, behavior, etc.

So he gave me a couple of names of fellow Clarity Clinic folks and I had a look on the website and chose the one that sounded like she'd get on best with me. I think I struck it lucky to be honest -- she's young (compared to me) and has ADHD, and she's very familiar with disability discourse, spoon theory, etc, even fandom to an extent. If I were to go looking today I might look more at therapists who specialize in twice-exceptional individuals, but she's good enough with what I'm aiming at that I don't want to change.

So the best advice I have is if you're being treated for other stuff by someone you trust I'd ask them, but also look for someone experienced with adult ADHD, and I'd look for someone on the younger side who's more likely to be understanding of neurodivergent needs. (I also recommend filtering to queer-friendly therapists if you can; I didn't necessarily need that but it means they're likely to be generally accepting and probably have more liberal politics. With the caveat that in shady places like BetterHealth, "LGBTQIA" counselors are sometimes homophobic creeps with an axe to grind.)

Building the relationship has taken proactivity on my part -- ensuring that I always have an appointment on the books (we book out about six weeks in advance now, because we know one of us will likely need to cancel/rebook at times), making sure that I have either an aim for treatment or at least something to talk about, etc. I think in your case probably having a list of things you want to deal with, so that you can check some boxes up top, might help.

I would definitely open with "I have ADHD and I need help with [aspects of that]; I also have RSD and I need to work with someone who respects that diagnosis and understands how to help with it." I went into mine saying "I have ADHD and I'm also struggling with some really big emotion, so I'm looking for help with those, but also like...I'm not really sure what therapy can offer. I've had some bad experiences in the past but they were all when I was a child, so I'm trying to explore some options." Her reaction was a combination of sympathy and a discussion of the kinds of things we might work on, which helped a great deal.

But yeah, I think it starts with establishing right from the jump what you want and need, and then spending time making sure that you both stay on top of that until you find a rhythm. We're still finding our rhythm, but it's getting easier as I'm learning to be clearer about what I want and more comfortable with being a participant instead of someone therapy just happens to.

[starilicious]

mere haath mein (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader and echo's love story from strangers to friends to lovers throughout the clone wars (a 4+1 type of story)

》 series masterlist: (please read the masterlist before continuing on!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 4.5.1 | part 4.5.2 | part +1 📍 (you are here!)

click here to read on AO3

》 part +1 word count: ~2.2k

》 part +1 warnings: none

》 part +1 spoilers: none

》 a/n: this is it! thank you to everyone who read this story ^_^ this fic started out purely self-indulgent bc i am an echo girlie at heart, but i hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. this scene is what inspired me writing all the previous parts and is therefore the longest part (because i still cannot believe people write off the clones like objects instead of people with emotions and hopes and fears :( ) please do let me know your thoughts on this fic and if you could like to see any additional parts in this series! enjoy this last chapter :DD

+१ (+1)

At first, it’s the little things. How sometimes he can’t tear open a meal packet easily, or how he takes longer to put on his armor. How he adjusts his grip on his blaster, or he types up reports slower on his datapad.

Of course, Echo never complains. It’s not in his nature to, especially not while you’re at war, and there are arguably bigger and worse things to worry about.

But you notice anyway.

It takes a month or two for you to realize his struggles. Even though you officially transferred to Clone Force 99, you still mainly work with the 501st and other legions thanks to Tech’s precise expertise. His knowledge combined with his training as a soldier and experience in the field meant you rarely accompanied them on missions. So you put your skills to work elsewhere, not wanting to remain idle.

You would come back to the Kamino barracks you shared with the boys only a few days a week at most. Long trips just to get back to the squad wasn’t exactly a good use of the Republic’s dwindling resources, so you make do with the time you have.

It’s not until you request to have your office transferred to Kamino do you observe Echo’s constant conflict with being one-handed. The extra time on your hands allows you to be with Clone Force 99 more often, giving you time to get to know them and how they work together.

Echo is so incredibly subtle about his pain, his exhaustion, and the numerous issues with his scomp link that it’s really only because of your engineering training that you detect the problem. At this point, your mind unconsciously latches onto anything that you perceive as a potential source of trouble. You’ve practically hardwired your brain to find anything and everything that could be a complication, no matter how small.

And you would be damned if you couldn’t fix this one.

So you shove all your impending datapad reports aside and pull up your CAD software and, with a little hacking, Echo’s medical records on your monitors. (You doubt any of the higher-ups will care anyway). You crack open your old notes from university, poring over them and Echo’s reports, scrutinizing every detail and writing down notes in your precious engineering notebook.

Frankly, you are livid over the fact that the Kaminoans or the Republic didn't give Echo a prosthetic to make his life easier. He's an ARC trooper for Maker's sake, constantly going on missions deemed too dangerous for any regular clone. Doesn't that warrant at least a little respect?

You don't dignify that question with a response, already knowing the answer to it. It pisses you off how little they care, how clones are viewed as expendable, how they're nothing more than sentient droids. Even someone at as high of a rank as Echo is still written off even though he has sacrificed everything for the Republic.

For the next week or so, you work in earnest, staying up late nights and waking up at early hours to continue working as you regain the knowledge you temporarily lost while working as an astroengineer. As cool as starships are, nothing can compare to the satisfaction of completing a project that changes someone’s life–it’s why you wanted to be a biomedical engineer in the first place.

Not to mention your constant rage acting as fuel to keep going with the project and refuse to stop.

You build prototype after prototype, constantly adjusting and readjusting your designs, scrapping ideas and thinking of new ones. It’s an arduous process, especially for a challenge you have never faced before, but you put in everything you have to give because this is for Echo.

And Echo is worth it.

You meticulously note down every flaw and success, wanting to have something to look back on for future iterations--after all, there are always more ways to improve.

There are times where Echo is close to figuring out your surprise for him, often walking in while you're mentally elbow deep in your designs, the exploded-view of the parts up on your monitor as you solder together the 3D-printed parts. You luckily throw a cover over the prototype and switch to a different project right before he sees. He glances at you in surprise, but decides not to push, much to your relief.

The worst (and, arguably, best) part is when Echo worries about you, concerned about your lack of sleep and how you practically live in your office makerspace. You come into the barracks long after Echo is asleep and leave long before he's awake. And there are nights where you just don't come in at all, often having too much work to finish because of how much time and effort your job demands of you. Echo does what he can, dropping off meals whenever he's able and cushioning your head with a pillow whenever you fall asleep in your chair. He hates that it isn't enough.

Every time he asks, you deflect his questions and his concern, choosing to inquire about his most recent mission or how his kinship with the Bad Batch is coming along. He reluctantly answers you as he watches you multitask, eagerly listening to him while you repair another starship in the main garage.

But finally, Echo has had enough.

He barges into your office in the middle of the night as soon as he gets back to Kamino after a particularly long mission, heavy footsteps startling you as you scramble to cover the prosthetic.

Echo seethes out your full name, hand curled into a fist as he points at you with his scomp link, and you know you're in deep shit now.

"That's it. I’m going to bed right now and I am taking you with me,” he declares, anger and exhaustion dripping from every word.

“But–”

“No buts! For the past month, I’ve been patient. I do my best to support you and ask you what you need and you can barely even give me the time of day!” Echo exclaims, exasperated. You bite the inside of your cheek, the guilt beginning to weed into your heart as he continues.

“Every time I ask you what’s going on, what’s keeping you here, you just shrug me off and answer with a question of your own,” Echo scoffs, throwing his arms up. “And forget me, what about you? You don’t sleep, you barely eat–when was the last time you did your own damn laundry?”

Your body curls into itself, head hanging down. You can’t meet his eyes, ashamed of how you were so caught up in making his life better that you inadvertently made it worse.

The fight bleeds out of Echo as fast as it entered and he lets out a resigned sigh, posture slackening as he stands in front of you. He lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. The swirl of distress and disquiet is rampant, as clear as the dark shadows under his eyes.

“Just tell me what’s going on,” Echo pleads, the statement coming out as a whisper. You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod. You didn’t want to give it to him today, preferring to wrap it up and hand it to him after he’s well-rested, but at this point, you feel as if you have no choice.

You reach over the durasteel table and uncover the prosthetic hand in a flourish. Echo chokes on air in shock as he stares, frozen and rooted to the ground. You gently pick up your prototype and hold it out to him.

“This is what’s going on,” you reveal, the apology laced in between your words.

Echo is silent as he takes it from your hands, examining the prosthetic in awe before looking at you, tears in his eyes. You smile at him, your face mirroring his own as they begin to fall.

“I-I don’t even know what to say–”

“A thank you will be enough,” you tease lightheartedly, and he laughs in spite of himself, voice caught in his throat as he begins to cry.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug that you eagerly return. When he lets go, you begin explaining yourself and the prototype.

“I noticed you were having difficulty doing stuff now that you’re one-handed and I wanted to do something about it since clearly no one else cared,” you frown at the last part, your fury seeping through your words. “This is what I’ve been working on. It’s painful enough trying to have a body readjust to the regular world, but you have it worse because we’re in the midst of a galactic war. So I decided to do my best to make it a little easier for you.”

You sigh as you watch him admire the prosthetic, turning it over in his hand as he listens to you. Your fingers tap lightly against your work table. “When you put it on, it accommodates the scomp link and hides it within, making it look just like a regular hand.”

“I thought you were an astroengineer?” Echo cuts in, confusion written plainly on face as he glances at you.

You chuckle in response to his hidden question. “Technically, I’m not. I’m a biomedical engineer by training. I learned astroengineering on the fly for the GAR,” you smile fondly as Echo blinks in surprise before rolling his eyes at your awful pun. He smiles.

You continue then, demonstrating the hand for him, pulling the prototype out of his grip and gently latching it onto the mechanical part. “I put in a kind of cloaking technology too.”

You tap the interface on the inner wrist and the metal fades away to the exact color of his brown skin. Echo gasps in surprise as he flexes his muscles, the hand smoothly curling into a fist.

“This way, it literally looks and acts like a normal hand and you can go on more covert missions,” you say proudly as you watch him play with it. This feature was the hardest part of making the prosthetic. Converting neural impulses into something a machine could not only understand but actually translate into action that didn’t look clanky and awkward was probably the most frustrating challenge you have ever faced.

You tap the interface again and it fades back to metal. “Inside each finger is a tool you can use out in the field,” you continue, having each finger retract to show knives, cutters, and even a poison vial.

“And lastly…” you make the fingers reverse their action and then retract the entire hand, revealing the scomp. “If you want to use the scomp link, you can do so without having to take the entire hand off!”

Echo stares at the scomp link uncomprehendingly. He’s doing that a lot. Echo doesn’t say anything, hesitantly touching the prosthetic with his flesh hand.

“Right–uh, well, this is only the first prototype, so there are still a lot of problems with it. I have to run a debugger through the code again and make sure the cloaking tech holds up in the field since planet environments can really impact the way everything works. There are a bunch of tests I need to–”

“I love you.”

You stop abruptly, mind short-circuiting as you glance up at Echo in surprise, clearly not expecting such a phrase to cut off your anxious ramble.

“I–what?” you ask rather eloquently. You mentally facepalm. Nice going.

“I love you,” Echo whispers into the space between you, a shared breath holding the weight of the phrase in the charged air. You search his eyes in question–does he mean it? You find your answer amidst the sparkling galaxies and twinkling stars in his warm gaze and you breathe in his confession before exhaling your own.

“I love you too, Echo.”

The smile that breaks out on his face is unrivaled. He scoops you up in his arms, much to your surprise, and spins you around, a laugh bubbling out of you both when your foot hits your chair.

Echo sets you down ever so gently, mellow kindness permeating his every action as he leans in. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart melts at the patient question because of course he can. Echo is so careful about never pushing boundaries, constantly taking the time to make sure you’re comfortable. And so, you answer him with a nod and shift your face to meet his lips.

It’s chaste and slightly awkward–Echo doesn’t know where to put his hands, instead hovering over your waist, and your nose bumps into his when you move. You both let out a quiet laugh of peace as you rest your head over his heart, his arms engulfing you in a hug. The cool, white lights of your makerspace shine down on you both as you breathe in the light sandalwood incense you light when you work. Rain patters the window gently and you sigh, listening to Echo’s calming heartbeat.

“Let’s go to sleep, cyar'ika.”

---

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 4.5.1 | part 4.5.2 | part +1 📍 (you are here!)

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[jams-sims]

Anyway- Mouthwashing OC TIME!

Jessica (Jess for short) Townley is a young african american woman about 23, who is assigned on the Tuplar as her first mission and assement of the last man'd shipping crew. She is told before she is assigned Tuplar that the crew will be let go. Jessica advocates that if they (the company) want to avoid a big lawsuit after the crew lands, that they (pony express) should provide them (the crew) with a settlement/severance pay. Pony Express agrees only, if she joins the crew on their last shipment to do advanced psychological assessment of the crew.

Jessica is a young upstart psychologist who come from a long line of doctors. This is the company's way of saying fuck you, enjoy space for 8 months. But this also allows her to put her skills to use and when she gets lands back on earth. This will provide an amazing add, to her resume and scholarly paper. (This also allow Anya to do her work as a nurse.)

Jessica expects to be the only young person on the ship which would make for a long and boring first voyage and that's when meets Diasuke. She meets the entire crew and a little bit of guilt settles in her stomach, when she realizes she knows everyone is going to be laid off but they will be getting paid after so it lessen as she talks and have meeting with everyone.

Jessica shares an offices with Anya an they grow close. Her and Diasuke have this akward flirting going on. It drive swansea up the fucking wall and more than once has he shoed both or jessica out of the engineering room. Swansea can be qouted saying to Daisuke "piss or get off the pot kid".

She meets Curly and while she thinks hes nice. She also think he is under a lot of stress that he refuses to confront. She meets Jimmy and instantly he makes her uncomfortable, he makes several comments about her and Diasuke which is nothing but friendship and maybe some awkward flirting.

After a couple of months during a meeting with Curly. Curly bring up the fact it weird that Pony express would just NOW assign an actual therapist onborad. "Was there something wrong with our evals last time." Jessica is able to lie for a while, but soon caves and she is the first to tell Curly that their entire team will be layed off after this shipment. Curly is in disbelif, until a month later he gets the letter. Jessica urges him, practically beg him not to tell the crew. This is coming off the heels of find out what happened with Anya and Jimmy.

"The reason they fire people on a firday is to avoid them come back in and shooting up the place. This is the same situation, you don't shit where you eat Curly."-Jess.

Curly of course does not listen, and during his would be birthday party. She tires to stop Curly when Jimmy presses him. But of course Curly says some shit and then the tragedy unfolds.

During the worse of it, Jessica and Anya take up residences in the medical room. Although she trust Diasuke anf Swansea, Jimmy put her on edge and to protect Anya and herself. She urges Anya to try and stay in rooms that lock with Curly. Jessica gives Curly his meds but a few times, she trying to keep the crew together mental wise.

Bad End

Swansea tells her their is only one working cryopod. She urges, Swansea to try and get the others uncovered.

When the new medication comes into play. Jessica is in the room with Anya, when she locks the door. Between Daisuke behind the door and Jessica in person try to talk Anya down. Until they leave the door and Jessica realizes Anya had been taken the pills, it was just a mistake Jessica ended up in the room with her. As Anya is dying Jessica tries to resuscitate her only here knocking coming from the broken vent that is when she has to shift her focus to the screaming Diasuke. Anya dies and she unlocks the door to try and get help from swansea only to realize he is just waking up from the floor.

Her demise is when she is accidentally shot when Swansea and Jimmy fight over the gun. It is a gut shot that means, she slowly bleeds out listening to Swansea final words amd watches as Jimmy shot him in the head.

Jessica doesnt have any final words for Jimmy because Swansea already said it. "Fuck you Jimmy."

[cbk1000]

So, I have another crazy story about the clinic where I used to work; this time as a patient instead of an employee. Under a cut because it's very long.

So back when I first got really sick, I was in the hospital a few times primarily for really high heart rate. I work out a lot and my normal resting heart rate is in the 60s; back in February I suddenly started getting palpitations, and my heart rate was going up to like 140 bpm just standing at my bathroom sink washing my face. I wore a seven day monitor at one point and my highest recorded heart rate on that was 157 bpm--just shuffling like a zombie around the house. I was also super weak and just felt overall like death.

Hospital runs a bunch of labs and imaging tests and can't find anything that would explain it. The last doc I saw said there was a bright spot on my echocardiogram monitor that could just be flashback from the monitor, but taken with some of my symptoms, he felt OK with a presumptive diagnosis of pericarditis (inflammation of the sac around your heart), especially as the treatment is just high dose ibuprofen for a week, nothing invasive or drastic. I need to follow up with a cardiologist, but I don't have a primary care physician who can refer me to the heart clinic. I had just turned in new patient paperwork at a local clinic so I contacted them to see if I could get in, but they said it would likely be a month before I could be scheduled with anyone.

In the meantime, the ibuprofen isn't working and my condition is getting worse. I have my next period, and after a couple of heavy days, I get even weaker, my heart rate goes even higher, and I get really dizzy all the time. I also am now short of breath just rolling over in bed. I legit feel like I'm dying. Because my symptoms get worse after blood loss, it suddenly pops into my head that about 17 years ago after a blood donation I got really sick, and all my symptoms that I can remember having at the time are the same, especially the cardiac issues. I took iron back then and that resolved it. I started wondering if my iron was low, did a bunch of research into iron deficiency without anemia, and realized every single symptom, including ones I had been having for a while prior to the heart issues (terrible fatigue, brain fog, headaches, sleep disruptions, restless legs at night) could be from low iron.

So I need to get labs done, and also I do still need a referral to make sure my heart is ok. I can't get in with anyone, so out of desperation, I go back to my old clinic because I know they'll get me in quickly. They schedule me an appointment for the next day with a doc who is going to turn out to be batshit crazy.

I go to my appointment with my presumptive diagnosis of pericarditis, and the doctor asks if I had the Covid shot. I tell him yes, but my last booster was in 2021, so not relevant here.

Well boy howdy was I wrong. He launches into a whole-ass rant about how bad the shots are, how many people have been injured by them, tells me I, a formerly very healthy, athletic woman, now have heart issues due to the shot, etc. etc. I say, 'Ok, but would the shot really randomly cause me issues three years later when I was perfectly fine after I got it?' (The answer is no.) Doc stays the course in blaming the shot. I have paperwork I need filled out for medical leave from my job, and he PUTS ON MY PAPERWORK THAT I HAVE TO TURN IN that my cardiac issues came on and progressed after the shot (three YEARS after, you DUMBASS) and that his impression is post vaccine injury. I feel too badly to do much more than sway on the exam table and occasionally interject that I had the shot three years ago and I don't think that's the problem. The majority of my appointment is him ranting about the shots. Whatever, I'm desperate, give me my fucking referral to the cardiologist and order my iron panel.

I get labs done and sure enough, my iron is low. I start supplementing and shortly afterwards get a call from the cardiac clinic; I lucked out and got in just a few days after my referral was sent to them because someone canceled their appointment last minute. I see an ARNP at my first visit and she says the echo I had done at the hospital looks fine to her, but they'll do a seven day monitor, a repeat echocardiogram, and have me follow up with the cardiologist just to make sure they don't miss anything.

So they do this, and in the meantime, after a couple of weeks on iron supplements, I start slowly but steadily feeling a bit better. My fatigue and brain fog that I was having every day improve significantly after only a week on supplements. My dizziness goes away. I feel a tiny bit stronger every day and now can sit up longer and start holding conversations with people. It's slow but steady progress for about three weeks: and then I get my period again. It doesn't knock me back to square one, but I definitely take a couple of steps back in my recovery. It's a little lighter this time, though, which is a good sign.

I follow up with the cardiologist. He says actually my heart is in really good shape; no signs of pericarditis or anything wrong with it; my high heart rate isn't due to a cardiac issue. Cool. I didn't think so at this point, but good to hear I don't have heart issues.

So I go back to follow up with my doc and plan to ask to really focus on the iron issue since the cardiologist confirmed my heart is fine. I have come a long ways but am still mostly bedridden; it is very slow to get your levels up on iron supplementation, and every time I get my period, it sets me back a little. Maybe some low dose iron infusions would help boost my levels so my recovery doesn't go backwards on account of me bleeding for a week every few weeks.

Doc comes in the room. He is clearly Not Happy cardiology did not confirm his conspiracy theories about the shot injuring me. I tell him about the symptoms I have seen improve and even resolve after about six weeks on iron supplements, and how I think most if not all of my problems are from low iron. He pretty much completely ignores this. He asks me if my fatigue and brain fog have improved. I say, yes, they were some of the first symptoms to improve after I started taking iron. He does not even acknowledge I have spoken. He tells me he thinks I have a combination of chronic fatigue syndrome and POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome) caused by the shot. I remind him I just told him my fatigue had improved a lot since starting iron. And my heart rate is coming down too and not spiking as much, my issue is that every period after I've been improving, I suddenly get a little worse again. He ignores this. He tells me he is going to refer me to the neurologist to check for chronic fatigue and POTS. Ok, whatever, I'm pretty sure I don't have those things, but fine, have another specialist tell you you're wrong.

After about eight weeks on supplements, I really feel like I'm starting to turn a corner. I don't feel normal, but my heart rate has come down quite a bit, I can stand and walk around a lot longer without feeling like I'm going to pass out, and I feel the closest to normal that I have been in months.

And then I get my period again and my heart rate goes back up. I'm super frustrated at this point because I was So Close to being a functioning human again, so I decide to push for a low dose iron infusion. I just want to boost my levels high enough to get me over this hump so every period doesn't set me back right as I feel like I'm coming back to life. I've read lots of papers on iron deficiency without anemia (meaning your hemoglobin is normal) and decide to make an appointment armed with one paper in particular which was written by a doctor who has been treating iron deficiency for decades, and which lays out really comprehensively the numbers at which patients should be considered deficient based on their labs and symptoms, what numbers you should shoot for when treating the iron deficiency (I am higher now but still quite a ways away from the goal), and also lists a bunch of symptoms women in particular have reported that have resolved with iron treatment. I highlight all the symptoms on the list that I have had, as well as other sections particularly relevant to my specific case. (Spoiler alert: I did not even give him the paper.)

So I go to my appointment and he asks if I've heard from the neurologist yet. I say no, I'm sure it will be a while (there's only one in town, and I'm sure it takes a long time to get in). In the meantime, I really want to focus on getting my iron levels up. I lay everything out: all the improvements I've seen, how my period keeps setting me back, and how I want to try just a low 100mg infusion to boost me up so I don't take two steps back every time I get my period. He tells me I have chronic fatigue and POTS as a result of the Evil Shot. I tell him, once again, that my fatigue has greatly improved on iron supplements. He does not even acknowledge I have spoken. He tells me a local doctor is being PERSECUTED and PROSECUTED for prescribing Ivermectin for Covid. Ok, that doesn't relate to my personal medical issues that we are here to discuss, and also, Ivermectin is not approved for the treatment of Covid. I ask him again if I can get a low dose infusion. I understand insurance probably won't cover it, that's fine, I can pay out of pocket, I just need him to order it. He tells me he personally takes Ivermectin. Good for you. Again, not related to my medical issues that I am here to dicuss.

I mention that I have had restless legs at night for a long time, because I know this at least is commonly associated with low iron, maybe that will get his attention; nope. He totally ignores me again. I even try blaming the shot for low iron (sorry, Covid vaccine, sometimes you have to take one for the team). I say I have read Covid and maybe even the shot can deplete your iron; maybe the shot did this to my iron. No dice. (Mr. Jenn did applaud me for trying when I told him about it, though.)

He starts in about my POTS again. I say, ok, but POTS is a postural issue, right? He says, yes! I say, ok, then if I have an issue where my nervous system doesn't regulate my blood flow properly when I change from sitting to standing, why is my resting heart rate way higher than normal when I'm just lying in bed doing nothing, and why has my heart rate been coming down and is not spiking like it was after several weeks on iron supplements until I get my period? I'm not sure that fits with POTS.

He again does not even acknowledge I've spoken.

I ask again for an infusion to help boost me up so I'm not set back every period. He says as long as I'm menstruating it will set me back. Yes, I am aware I will lose more iron on my period, what I am asking is that while I am in ACTIVE CLINICAL IRON DEFICIENCY can we please do something to speed up getting my levels high enough so every time I bleed it doesn't knock me down again. He asks if I have considered a hysterectomy or uterine ablation for the bleeding (you know, invasive surgeries, instead of talking about birth control pills, which he didn't even mention). I said that was kind of extreme and I didn't want to consider that right now. I ask him about the infusion again. He says it's not a concern. I say, yeah, it is, I am having debilitating symptoms that have left me bedridden for three months. I need to get back to my life and my job. He tells me Congress is investigating the shots and it will come out how bad they are, but a lot of people won't believe it. I say, well, that's Congress' business, can I please have an infusion. He tells me insurance won't cover it. I say I know, I already mentioned that earlier (while you were ignoring me in favor of ranting about a vaccine I had three years ago), I have a health savings account, I can pay out of pocket. He tells me he's pretty sure I have chronic fatigue and POTS but we'll see what the neurologist says. I need to call and see if I can get in more quickly with the neurologist. I say, ok, in the meantime, since realistically it could take months for me to get in with the neurologist, can I PLEASE HAVE A FUCKING INFUSION. He tells me if I want one I will have to badger another doctor into it. (I can't remember the exact word he used, but the way he worded it made it sound like I was trying to bully him. No, you jackass, I am asking for an extremely common, low risk medical treatment for issues that have left me unable to work or leave my house for anything other than doctor's appointments for THREE MONTHS.)

So I left incredibly frustrated, needless to say.

Next day Mr. Jenn goes to his appointment at the clinic I initially tried to get into to follow up on labs he had done for an annual physical, and his doctor tells him his cholesterol is slightly high, but not enough to be concerned, he just needs to watch his saturated fats and red meat intake. Mr. Jenn tells him we've actually temporarily increased our red meat intake because of my health issues. He then mentions all of the issues I've been having, my lab results, and how I've improved a lot on supplements, but keep getting set back by my period. His doctors goes, 'Have you guys looked into infusions for her? You should try that.'

I DID BUT MY DOCTOR IS CRAZY.

Mr. Jenn explains that I had asked for an infusion and my doctor refused. His doctor gives him a weird look and wants to know why. Mr. Jenn explains it's because he's super set on it being chronic fatigue and POTS and won't consider anything else even though my 'chronic fatigue' and 'POTS' symptoms have both improved on iron supplements. The doctor again gives him a weird look and asks why he's stuck on those diagnoses and won't consider iron deficiency.

Because he's crazy, good sir.

Mr. Jenn's doctor then suggests we see if I can self-refer for an infusion and just pay out of pocket, but you need a doctor's order even if you're not going through insurance, so the next day when the clinic opens, I call, explain I tried to establish care there earlier so they have my new patient paperwork, but that I needed an urgent referral, and had to go somewhere else because they were a month out, but I really (REALLY) want to change doctors, is <Mr. Jenn's doc> taking new patients? He is not, but they'll put in a note with one of the ARNPs accepting new patients to see if they're willing to schedule me.

However, I know the new manager of the clinic (actually an old coworker from the crazy clinic that I'm friendly with), so the other day I texted her, briefly explained the situation, and she asked which doctor I wanted to see and said she'll talk to him when he's back from the long holiday weekend and see if he would be willing to see me. She will let me know later this week (he's not back in till Wednesday). So fingers crossed I can get in with a non-lunatic soon.

[mamuzzy-creates-stuff]

─── ･ I did so much this year.

I started this separate art blog back in january, and soon it will be one year old! Not sure about the exact date, but according to my pinned post, the anniversary is around 21th of january. I wonder if I should celebrate it somehow when the time comes. I'm not used to celebrate my own things, you know. I'm just doing my own stuff and feel very happy when my art touches you somehow or makes you laugh.

─── ･ Babysitting my boss

But overall I had a stable job and I was able to maintain my artistic hobbies too. Summer was difficult due to my senior co-worker (and kinda a mom-figure for me) going into medical leave due to cancer, so managing the restaurant alone with a boss who doesn't speak my own language and running official errands for them was stressful. But given that I was able to visit them few days ago in the restaurant, they have another ten years to stay in our country. :D So I did a good job with the managing, both the restaurant and their own life. I'm glad. <3

[ Please don't be like me, and make sure you maintain properly distanced workplace relationship with your co-workers and boss. Because normally, you shouldn't be responsible for their personal things.

I'm one with Borderline Personality Disorder. I'm pretty much susceptible for being used like this because I'm terrified of not being loved by the people I have to share space everyday. Making people disappointed is really difficult for me. ]

─── ･ Taking care of Mom

The last third of the year was difficult due to my Mom's condition is getting worse and I had to leave my job and leave my actual home to take care of her, but my Mom is well (considering the circumstances) - or more like stagnating. Not better but not worse. I decided to going home much frequently whenever I can, because my own mental and physical health has gone shit during this time.

[ Please don't be like me, and make sure you get ALL THE INFORMATION about the situation before you impulsively quit your job and leave your relatively healthy life behind, just because your sister is being dramatic about the possible death of your mom. ]

─── ･ Friends made it better

Thank your for being here all these difficult times.

My wonderful girlfriend and my tumblr friends made my november great by organizing an OrdoMaze themed surprise birthday party and I suddenly I was flooded with so much OrdoMaze fanfictions and artpieces I've never seen before from other people!!!

The happy high I got from your works made me go through the month. <3 And I also got so inpsired I actually started to work again on OrdoMaze related things, which hopefully I can present you next year. ^^

Thank you for thinking about me. Thank you for everyone who sent me good wishes. It made feel like I don't just exist just because someone decided to put me into this world. I was actually glad to exist.

─── ･ Possible plans for tumblr life

✦ Doing more art of course.

✦ Doing more fanfiction - with a twist :3 I won't tell yet. Nyehehe~

✦ Being more social: I have no idea how I will manage this. Being open about everything doesn't make me a social-person. But I definitely feel there is a wall between me and my followers for some reason. It would be nice to break it down.

Maybe occassional requests on special days? Valentines day is almost here after all.

✦ ...

✦ Fünf.

─── ･ HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Friends, Moots and followers, I wish you a good 2025, and I wish you would fulfill your goals you set right now.

I hope you will find happiness wherever you look.

I hope you will stay kind to yourself whenever an obstacle blocks your path to your goals.

I hope you will be able to beat the shit out of those obstacles. Just make sure you hide the body. Here is a shovel.

I wish you Happy New Year!

[aftgficrec]

oooof i neeed long and angsty preferably newer ones like i need to entertain myself for a bit <3 it's okay either incomplete or complete works!

Well, friend, what kind of angst are you looking for?  Heavy angst, mild angst, emotional/physical angst, angst with a happy ending?  This fandom delights in angst!  I think we’ve probably got a bit of everything here for you, even if it isn’t all brand new, including some excellent fics for other pairings than Andreil.  Take your pick! - S

A small selection from previous posts: 

Long angsty Andreil here

Long dark Andreil here

‘Oakland’ and ‘Lifeline’ here (since updated)

‘Birds of a Feather’ (recently updated), ‘Innominate’ (since updated) and ‘Die Free or Die a Failure’ (now complete) here

‘Scared to Live (But I'm Scared to Die)’ here

‘Stranger To Stay’ (since updated) here

‘Inked Truths’ series here

‘Joseph’ series here

‘not your homeland anymore’ here

‘North Star’ (now complete) here

‘L’Amour parle en fleurs’ here

‘Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner’ here

‘I Will Always Choose You’ (now complete) and ‘Comeback’  here

‘Not Damsels, Not Knights’ here

‘Make A Believer Out Of Me’ here

‘Pause and Restart My Heart’ series here

‘The Bones of You’ here

‘Back to the Start’ here

‘Sixteen hours’ (jerejean) here

‘Aurora’  (jerejean)  here  (part 1 of Rhapsody: Exile series - part 2 is also complete, part 3 in progress)

‘The Heart and the Knife’ (Matt/Aaron) here

Purely in order of (currently) longest to shortest:

Deals With Devils by ToadlilyAUs [Rated M, 142394 words, incomplete, last updated June 2023]

Neil is on the run with his mother for three years before his father catches up to them. And after finally being handed off to The Ravens his life is never the same. After three more years of brutal training and abuse at the hands of Riko and Tetsuji, his life is changed yet again on the day Kevin Day runs away to the foxes, leaving him and Jean Moreau behind to suffer the consequences. Six more heinous months after that, in the summer before his long promised debut, he's finally allowed to leave the nest...but he's still anything but free. As the list of friends and allies grows, so too does his list of problems. How much of himself is he willing to give away to keep the people who matter to him safe? And how many lies and secrets can he stack on top of one another before his house of cards comes crumbling down?

tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: violence, tw: blood/gore

don't break the glass by cracklingamber [Rated E, 103707 words, complete, 2023]

Part 1 of the glass series

“Who even are you?” Neil blinked at him with those perfect, blue eyes. Andrew became very aware of Neil’s weight at that moment and dropped him. Neil bounced back on the bed and yelped. “I’m the guy who is going to go take a shower and you’re the guy who is going to wait patiently for Kevin to come tend to your needs,” Andrew said. He gestured down to Neil’s blanket covered body. “Whatever this is, is above my pay grade.” [AFTG Crime AU that takes place in Baltimore where the Foxes and Raven's are opposing gangs. Neil escapes the Nest and falls for Andrew, but Riko will do anything to get him back. Kevin and Aaron tumble headlong into a secret relationship and Jeremy Knox fixes a very broken Jean Moreau.]

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced drug use, tw: explicit sexual content

NB: fanart by by @/masslowart on instagram

Not Yours To Bleed by Coffeexandxangst [Rated E, 90858 words, incomplete, last updated June 2023]

The Pros were never in the cards. Not for an ex-medicated alleged psychotic with a dysfunctional family and an Exy career he’d rather not have. But even if it wasn't his first choice, no matter what happens, it can’t possibly be worse than that one fucked up sophomore year when he stood toe to toe with the Yakuza-and won. At least, that’s what Andrew thinks until a familiar face shows up. Another Raven!Neil AU. Or, the one where the boys don’t meet until the Pros.

tw: rape/noncon, tw: violence, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: eating disorders, tw: torture, tw: nightmares

I can feel you under my skin by ConventionalExy (Conventionals) [Rated E, 82619 words, incomplete, last updated April 2023]

Part 5 of the Our body series, part 1 here; part 3 here

Neil's second year brings changes. Things slow down and continue softer than they have ever been in his life, Andrew's at his side and they are working on being able to not be together 24/7, he can play Exy to his heart's content, he has a home, a family, a soulmate. He also has Jack and Sheena getting on his nerves, papers to write, Aaron's trial coming closer with each passing day, paranoid habits to break, ghosts to fight when he closes his eyes at night and real-people things to consider like bank accounts and taxes and so. much. more. He also has Andrew, their roof, their bond, their kisses, their touches and the promise of a future that is theirs, to grow and play and live. But things are never that easy for Neil Josten, are they?

tw: violence, tw: depression, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: suicide attempt,  tw: kidnapping, tw: torture, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: nightmares

turn out the lights by cielalune [Rated M, 70349 words, incomplete, last updated June 2023]

Part 1 of the dark side of the moon series

"What do you think it means to be alive, Andrew?” “What?” "To be alive. Is it just to eat and breathe? Just survive? Because that’s what I’ve been doing my whole life, Andrew, and it doesn’t feel like enough. But I don’t know how to do more. We’re supposed to find meaning or something, right?” See: stupid fucking questions. Like Andrew hadn’t been wondering the same thing his whole life. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.” A The Last of Us AU of AFTG. Set five years after the breakout of Cordyceps, Andrew is tasked with bringing an enigma of a man across the country, who also may just happen to be the cure for humankind.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: minor character death, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: body horror

The Sun Still Rises by mordax [Rated E, 66087 words, incomplete, last updated June 2023]

Somewhere on the road, Mary Hatford gets pregnant with her second child. When she passes, she leaves behind not only Neil, but his toddler brother. Survival is difficult without also raising a kid. Worn out and desperate, Neil still somehow ends up at Palmetto, only this time, he brings his four-year-old brother with him.

tw: violence, tw: anxiety, tw: panic attacks,  tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, 

NB: find fanart for this fic by @elidanus on Twitter here

I No Longer Feel Things (I Know I Should) by Major_816 [Not Rated, 59095 words, incomplete, last updated Feb 2023]

Part 2 of the Paralyzed series, part 1 here 

Neil's back in Palmetto with the Foxes' triumph over the Raven's, time to see how much damage has been done. ~ “Yes.” He didn’t remember the car ride back. Were they back? He was in a car. Yes. He remembered bits. Things scattered, Remembered- Eighty percent. A bullet. Blood splatter and Riko’s expression. Watched until eyes fogged over with death. Did he watch that long? Must have. His mother used to say- He blinked. ~ The long-awaited Scared to Live sequel

tw: abuse, tw: violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: torture, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw:  self harm, tw: ptsd, tw: anxiety attacks, tw: eating disorders

Longing Distance by F_C_B [Not Rated, 57545 words, complete, 2023]

Post-canon short thought experiment. Andrew moves away to join his new team, Neil stays in Palmetto. How will being suddenly separated affect their relationship? Andrew's POV. Not Nora-note/canon accurate and might break your heart if you let it.

tw: depression, tw: major character injury

Broken Symmetries by puddlejumper99 [Rated M, 53648 words, incomplete, last updated Feb 2023]

Reasons Neil had Died He cried too much as a baby, and his father made him stop He cried too much as a baby, and his mother tried to muffle the sound, and in her terror she silenced him for good His father wanted to hurt someone, and Neil was nearby The runners came for his mother, and they found him instead His mother hid him in a shack and left him alone as the heat soared They tried to run, and his father caught them They tried to run, and the runners caught them They ran, and they ran, and they ran, and they were still running and it didn’t matter, because his father would not stop, and he picked them off in one world after another until there was nowhere left to hide Reasons Neil had Lived He didn’t know, but there were eight

tw: violence, tw: torture, tw: temporary character death, tw: injuries

No More Fucks To Give by Wrotethis [Rated T, 53269 words, incomplete, last updated March 2023]

Part 1 of No More Fucks Land 

Neil rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. He’d get to play exy, eat regularly, and sleep somewhere with heating- presumably. Not a bad way to spend his last months. And hey, maybe his mother would come back from the dead and kill him herself if he went to Palmetto. Little victories. What if Neil gave up completely on making it through the year when he went to palmetto? What if Neil just did not give a single fuck? Maybe things would turn out better.

tw: violence, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: implied/referenced eating disorders

If Only I Were Enough by Lostintheuniverseslies [Rated M, 33189 words, incomplete, last updated June 2023]

After Andrew moves to Colorado to start his professional Exy career, he intends on everything being okay between him and Neil. But when his self-destructive tendencies tell him that he doesn't need Neil Josten in his life, everything goes to shit. Things between them seem unrepairable and he's not so sure he wants to even try. But when Neil gets into a dangerous car wreck, Andrew finds himself back at the junkie's side with a deadline to fix things or walk away forever.

tw: depression, tw: violence

Already Gone by Nina_reads1804 [Rated M, 31856 words, incomplete, last updated June 2023]

Neil was the pervasive lie Andrew had foolishly allowed himself to indulge and been unable to shake. A person who would stay? Fairytale. It wouldn’t last. Forevers didn’t exist for him. With graduation on the horizon, Andrew makes the hard decision to leave Neil before Neil can leave him. But after a year, Andrew starts to wonder if maybe he was wrong. Maybe he can have it all.

tw: depression, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced self harm

Sometimes I Think the Way We Met Happened Too Fast by andrewiel [Rated E, 25094 words, incomplete, last updated April 2023]

Neil and Andrew break up, but can never stay far apart.

tw: explicit sexual content

[awesomehoggirl]

Here's a rant i have wanted to post since january. 😊 content warnings for this post i am going to be raving about how the nhs treats eating disorder patients. LOL

i am so grateful for the existence of the NHS and so grateful that my experience has actually been a GOOD experience as far as seeking help for mental health problems goes in this dam cuntry. but god this process has been fucking soul crushing and it scares me so bad because i got lucky and hung on and so many others cannot. i was lucky that when i went to my gp in january and did the scariest thing i could possibly imagine and ask for help for my anorexia, i was taken seriously - most likely because i am a young white woman who was already at a severely low weight and therefore fit the 'profile' for restrictive eating disorders. i was lucky to get accepted for treatment at a local outpatient clinic and lucky for it to only take four months to get my first therapy appointment (tomorrow, and actually exactly four months to the day since i first asked for help). and it hurts that four months is lucky because without a shadow of a doubt these four months have been the worst period of my life. worse than when i wasnt set on getting better and was fully lapsed in anorexia. worse because i was strung along waiting for each appointment date and was essentially instructed to 'stay put' - don't get more disordered, per se, but don't get better. worse because every appointment was incredibly triggering and would set me back so far and by the time i did get to the outpatient clinic i was medically unstable enough to be hospitalised (but wasn't). my body was fucking shutting down, and i am one of the lucky ones. every day was absolute fucking torture and i was a complete shell terrified of doing 'too well', getting dropped from the process, and being sent back to square one - more than i was afraid of the way things were getting worse.

and things didnt improve for me when i was admitted there. not that i was expecting them to wave a wand and cure my anorexia but essentially i was given a formal diagnosis, the minimum meal plan with the promise i would have one tailored for my needs asap (has still not appeared - it has been a month) and the promise of regular therapy (ditto) and more details on my treatment to come (ditto). things didnt even marginally improve until i went home for a month and basically let my parents take over and teach me how to take care of myself again. they didnt improve until i picked up books on the biological basics of anorexia and taught myself what the fuck i was even going through. i could have died from refeeding syndrome during the months i was waiting and i would have had no idea what was happening! it makes me insane to think i am one of the lucky ones.

how can a gp look at someone who is dying and tell them to keep doing the thing that is killing them until theyre off a waitlist? i swear to god if any of them had to walk a single day in the shoes of someone suffering anorexia we would have an entire system rehaul because it is actual living hell. and god i haven't even touched on inpatient facilities - i haven't experienced one but the countless stories i've heard from people i've talked to are enough. the idea that shoving meals at someone with a severe mental health problem and discharging them the minute they're 'weight restored' (which is such a wavy idea anyway, and nobody can decide what someone's healthy set point is apart from their own fucking body) is such an insane misunderstanding of the disorder it seems actually stupid. with no work to neurally rewire the fear response to food or body changes they are setting people up for relapse and then deem patients 'treatment resistant' when they do. if i went into the way they look at binge eating and treat patients at higher weights this post would be a million miles long i can't even start lol

when i was on the bus to one of the appointments i was googling the outpatient clinic id been referred to and found the case of a girl previously in her care who went to the same uni as me, did the same course as me, was the same age as me, and unfortunately passed in her dorm room due to complications of her disorder which were not flagged because of negligence. she 'seemed fine' one week and was gone the next. i sat there on the bus and didnt even cry because i was too exhausted and sick, but i've cried over her since. i just think people with eating disorders are so misunderstood and the treatment is so wrong and needs to be rehauled so badly. i'm angry for that girl who died across the street from the doctor's office where i sat and was told to stay put in my disorder, wait it out, wait for help which just doesn't seem like it's coming at this point.

if any positive has come from my drive to fight for myself has never been stronger. all i want in the world is to go to america in august and even if my family and gp don't believe i'll be well in time, i believe in myself. i am proud of myself and scared for myself and angry for myself. for all the awfulness i have grown so much as a person and learned a lot about myself. it feels surreal to post about anorexia on my blog because it is so deeply shameful to me and something i have struggled with on and off quietly for years, but i am going to fucking get out of this and go to america and have the most awesome time. also tomorrow i am going to have a pastry at a cafe with my mum and yes i am terrified but i am also excited because it will be yummy. fuck eating disorders and fuck ummmm waitlists or whatever