#I’ve been up and down with this insurance thing just for my mom to be like oh yeah the original one you wanted to go to is fine

[cherrysnax]

as a kid I always wondered why I never went to the dentist ever I had a lot of mouth and teeth problems that got worsened by my depression

#my dads rlly big on dental hygiene so its not ignorance #and if he even has a slight toothache he goes #but even when I had multiple rows growing at the same time they refused #I’ve been up and down with this insurance thing just for my mom to be like oh yeah the original one you wanted to go to is fine #she knew it was fine #she kept telling me that my dad loved the place #I don’t know why she sent me on this little struggle to find someone who could take my other insurance even though she knew a place where #I could from the start #I don’t get her at all even chevy n my dad mentioned it #but yeah I have a lot of mouth shit to make up for because neglect n well uh neglect #and at least as an adult I have more agency to make these decisions #so that’s a plus #vent #but yeah this shit hurts so bad lmaoo

[mollybecameanengineer]

Qualifying Life Events

Summary: Set in 2007, when Mulder finds a concerning lump, he and Scully discuss health insurance. 

Word count: 1405

This was insipred in part by this post by @unremarkablehouse

@today-in-fic

Read on AO3 or continue below

2007

Mulder was soaping up his balls when he felt it. 

A lump.

On his testicle.

It was pea sized. Hard. And in forty-six years of ball soaping, he’d never felt it before. 

The edges of his vision darkened, and he leaned against the cold tile of the shower wall. He took deep breaths, trying to bring his panic under control. 

It could be anything. 

It didn’t have to be cancer. 

Right? 

He would have shouted for Scully, right there and then, if she’d been home. But she was at work. Mulder rinsed off, and in nothing more than his boxers, headed to his office to consult Doctor Google. 

.

When Scully arrived home, she was annoyed she didn’t smell dinner. They had discussed this: on nights she got home after seven, he needed to cook dinner. How hard was this to remember? She’d even put a schedule on the refrigerator to remind him. 

“Mulder!” She knew she sounded annoyed. She didn’t care.

“In here,” he called from his office. Scully put down her stuff and stomped across the living room. If he tried to explain to her how some shit about aliens had kept him from cooking dinner, she was walking right back out the door and going to her mom’s. 

She slammed open the door and paused. He was sitting there, in only his boxers, looking at the computer. If that wasn’t strange enough, when he turned to face her, she saw his panick face. 

Her anger dissolved and she crossed the room. “What’s wrong?”

He grabbed her hand. “I need you to look at something.” He stood, and started pulling down his shorts.

“Mulder, I’ve seen that before,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

He grabbed her hand and placed it on his balls. “There’s a lump.”

Scully’s stomach dropped as she started palpating his testicles. She felt it. 

“Well?” Mulder asked. “I’ve been looking things up on the internet. It seems like the likelihood it’s nothing or I’m dying is fifty-fifty.”

“The internet isn’t good for you,” Scully murmured, continuing to feel the lump. Louder, she continued, “I’m not an expert, but I think it’s more likely a cyst than a tumor. But you need an ultrasound and a consult with a urologist.”

“Can you do the ultrasound?”

Since Mulder had been in hiding, Scully had been doing his physicals at home. A few times she’d brought him to the hospital for a blood draw, wanting to keep an eye on his cholesterol. But this — this she couldn’t do herself. 

“No. I’m not a radiologist. I’m not confident in my ability to tell a cyst from an early stage tumor.” She let go of his balls and stepped back. 

He pulled his shorts back up. “What do we do?”

She had long feared something like this would happen — that Mulder would need medical care and would have to come out of hiding for it. 

“We make you an appointment for an ultrasound.” She tried to keep her voice calm. Detach herself from this situation. He was a patient. Don’t think about anything else. “You can go with your Anthony Blake ID and pay out of pocket. It should be less than $500. It should hold up if no one tries to run it for insurance.”

“Then what?” 

“Then we will know what it is.”

Mulder started pacing. “What if it’s not just a cyst? What if they need to do a biopsy or something?” 

She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. If the ultrasound isn’t conclusive, we’ll figure it out. Ok?”

He grunted. She patted him on the back before pushing away. “I’ll order some pizza. Go put something on the TV.”

.

“What if it’s not nothing?” he whispered to her. He’d been lying in the dark, unable to quiet his mind and sleep. 

She rolled towards him and put a hand on his chest.

“I know you want to wait and see,” he said, still staring up at the ceiling, “but my mind is going crazy and I need to know we have a contingency plan.” Mulder had looked up how much it cost to treat cancer. Sure, they could afford a $500 ultrasound, no problem. Even a $30,000 biopsy would be fine. Not how he wanted to spend 30 grand, but fine. A couple million for cancer treatment? They didn’t have that. “I’ll need health insurance.”

“I know.”

“Can we get me health insurance?”

She sighed. “I think the Gunmen could have figured something out, but I’m not convinced your I.D. will hold up. Plus, we need to get you the insurance before there is any record of this lump, or else it will be a pre-existing condition.”

“So ‘Fox Mulder’ needed health insurance yesterday?”

She stroked his chest. “This is why I want to wait. If it turns out ‘Anthony Blake’ needs treatment, then we can start the process of getting ‘Fox Mulder’ insurance. And then none of the diagnostic work will be on your chart.” 

He grabbed her hand, the one that was stroking his chest. “So, what will bring me down is a mass on my balls. Not the government, not the aliens… mother fucking cancer.”

“We don’t know it’s cancer. It’s likely a cyst.”

He rolled his eyes. That had to be the twentieth time she’d said ‘likely a cyst.’

“Well, I guess if I do come out of hiding and get arrested, the government will pay for my treatment in jail.” 

She sighed. “Mulder, they aren’t going to arrest you. If they wanted to, they would have already.”

He let go of her hand and scrubbed his face. “You keep saying that.”

“They know where I live. Yet they have never been out here to search for you. They. Don’t. Care.”

What she was saying was logical, even reasonable. But he couldn’t shake the fear. But he could shove it aside, for the moment. “Ok, assuming they really don’t care, how do I get health insurance without a job? Just call an insurance company?”

Scully retracted her hand from his chest. “We’ll get married and add you on my plan as a dependent. That will be significantly cheaper than purchasing individual insurance.” 

He froze. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her. He could just make out her face in the moonlight. “Did you just propose?” 

“I proposed a plan to get you health insurance. And anyway, you’ve already proposed to me half a dozen times.”

“Do you want to get married? Other than for the insurance?”

“I… I don’t know that getting married would change anything for us. I’m committed to you, and I think you are to me.”

“I am.”

“So,” she took a breath, “the main difference it would make is in health insurance and taxes. But none of it matters if you’re in hiding, so it didn’t make sense to bring it up.”

He reached out, taking her hand again. “I want to marry you. And not just for the health insurance.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “That’s very romantic.”

“What can I say? I’m a romantic guy.”

They settled into bed, him wrapped around her. His mind felt more at ease, now there was a plan. He drifted off to sleep, thoughts of their wedding displacing fears of cancer. 

.

A year passed. ‘Anthony Blake’ had his ultrasound, and it came back conclusive that the lump was only a cyst. Thoughts of weddings and coming out of hiding were put on the back burner, until one day the FBI approached Scully. They needed Mulder’s help, and all would be forgiven if he assisted them. 

It turned out coming out of hiding involved a lot of paperwork. New driver’s license, access to bank accounts. Setting up retirement crap again. Trying to figure out what to do with his life, now that he could do anything. 

One night, when he knew Scully wouldn’t be home too late, he cooked her favorite meal (that he could make) and put a cloth on their old table. He lit candles, and put on what could only be described as ‘make-out’ music. The table set, the food ready, he added the final touch. 

A print out. The form to add a dependent to a health insurance plan, due to a qualifying life event. And on top of the form, Mulder placed a ring. 

#x files fanfic #the x files

[indecentpause]

Writing Share Tag

tagged by @magic-is-something-we-create to just share some writing! thank!

cw: bullying mention, homphobia mention

oh Meara, honey

“You don’t get trauma from being bullied because you’re ‘too gay,’” you say, bunny quotations and all. “Well. You can,” Josselin says. You frown. “Look, I’m not saying you should be required to see a therapist just so you can get meds. But just. Give it a shot with an open mind, at least at first, okay? Pretty much every sliding scale mental health clinic makes you see both anyway, so, you know. If nothing else it’s a random person to talk to once or twice a month about things that are stressing you out.” You and Danny share a skeptical look. Frankie jostles his shoulder and says, “Hey, he has to go anyway. Lots of people go to therapy.” “I was in court-ordered therapy for a while after my mom died,” Josselin offers, like he’s trying to be helpful. “When I was with one of my foster families. I kept getting into fights.” He continues, just glancing right over it, like it’s common knowledge when he’s never mentioned it to you before. “The first two therapists were terrible but the third one helped me a lot. You don’t have to do it forever. Eventually you’ll get insurance through work and you’ll be able to pick your own doctors. But I don’t think it would hurt, for now, as long as you have one that gets you.” Your brow furrows and your frown pulls down even more. “You used to get in fights?” “Oh, yeah,” he says. “All the time. That’s why my foster parents at the time eventually just let me get my GED. They figured I’d be less annoying if I wasn’t getting in trouble all the time.” “Oh,” you say, soft, surprised. “I. I guess we never really did talk about your life when you were a teenager much.” “I prefer not to think about it,” Josselin says. He flips his ponytail forward over his shoulder and flicks the end of it in your direction. “A high school boy in the early aughts with long hair? The only kids who didn’t give me shit were the stoners and the drama kids.” “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.” “How could you?” he shrugs a shoulder and says, “I never told you. I can’t expect you to read my mind.” For a long moment, the four of you sit quietly, until you let yourself fall against Josselin and bury your nose in his shoulder. “You okay?” Danny asks. You nod. “If you’re feeling it, we were thinking of having a band meeting today. We couldn’t have practice because we didn’t want to stress you out even more than we figured you would be with the doctor. But we were hoping we could all sit down and talk.” Your face goes cold and pale. Danny’s eyes widen and he holds up his hands. “Nothing bad!” he reassures you. “We just all know you’ve been struggling and we wanted to figure out what our best course of action would be. You know, a semi-hiatus, or going down to one practice a week, or whatever. Don’t worry, Meara. We would never kick you out.” You breathe again. “Yeah,” you say softly. “I’ve always been okay onstage. I just. There’s no room for anything else then. I can’t afford it. But I know I’ve struggled at practice a couple times.” “Yeah,” Danny says gently. “I’ve seen.”

tagging @winterandwords @frostedlemonwriter @revenantlore @loopyhoopywrites to share some writing! whatever you want, as much or as little as you want. :)

Current taglist: @abalonetea @only-book-lovers-left-alive @poore-choice-of-words @leadhelmetcosmonaut @jasperygrace

@drippingmoon @athenswrites @magic-is-something-we-create @winterandwords

@revenantlore

Black & Blues taglist: @lynnedwardswrites

#my writing #writeblr #writeblr tag games #amwriting #writers on tumblr #wip #excerpt #the black and blues #meara ryanne #josselin clearwater #frankie moore #danny yazdi #sheraton academy #sheraton academy au

[cursedvibes]

One thing that I’ve been wondering is if Kenjaku financially supported Yuji throughout all these years prior to Jujutsu-High. Chances are Wasuke’s retirement money was more than enough to support both him and Yuji, but idk. Wasuke also wouldn’t really take money from someone who killed his son tbh.

But like… The thought of Kenjaku’s looming presence in Yuuji’s life, not being there but still being there in a way is interesting.

I broke down my idea of the Itadori Financial Plan™ in an earlier ask, but I think there's a good chance that Kenjaku financially supported Wasuke and/or Yuuji. Wasuke's money through insurance and such would probably still be enough to keep them above water, but Kenjaku might've jumped in at certain times to make things easier, particularly when Yuuji was alone for longer periods of time. Maybe Yuuji got some pocket money sometimes he thought his grandpa had left behind, but actually came from his mom.

Wasuke certainly wouldn't want Kenjaku's help, but I doubt he would risk Yuuji having to go hungry or not having school supplies for example just for the sake of not relying on Kenjaku. They have a common goal in raising Yuuji healthy (until Wasuke dies). It would also explain why Wasuke seemed sure that Kenjaku was still out there and was going to get involved again and come back for Yuuji in the future. Not the greatest arrangement, but it could be a way for him to keep track of what Kenjaku is up to or when they might become a problem again.

#asks

[taintmansion]

Alright so here goes a big personal mental health post…

As I’ve posted about since august, I developed a terrible anxiety induced insomnia which through finding a very helpful community online now identify as “sleep anxiety” which sort of accidentally happens to people when sometimes even one sleepless night sends them into a fight or flight mode. My brain now gets confused and thinks I should not sleep. I am often on 2-4 hours at most, often broken up and requires me to work hard to make myself relax and just wake up feeling unrested.

I’ve had ups and downs, one medication that seemed to work a while but made me feel like shit (while still working a stressful job that set this whole thing off) and then took myself off it and figured I probably need to be on an actual anxiety medication and have 2 family members on lexapro so hey, let’s ask for that. Was given that by a rando telehealth doctor because with shit insurance didn’t know where to go. Got through 2 days on it with what felt like heightened insomnia and anxiety zero appetite etc.

I stayed at my mom’s for half a week after my job took me off the schedule shortly after I gave my 2 weeks notice but told them I’ve been sick and may not make all the last shifts. That was the 2nd day of lexapro and felt I would lose my mind if I kept taking it at that point especially without a psych to follow up with. So, at my mom’s and trying a stress relief supplement, I started sleeping better and better. Went back home, had one bad night but then oddly on an air mattress slept good again.

Just as things were going so well for me, I went to a shitty dentist office i already didn’t like but wanted a tooth filled, and this dentist dropped a drill in my mouth cutting a hole under my tongue. Didn’t even know things like that happened to people! My anxiety was skyrocketed and every day since then sleep has been a struggle again. Actually I only slept decent the 2 times I’ve taken a Xanax which I got prescribed to help me get through the first few weeks lexapro because a trusted dr (gynecologist tbh) at least told me to keep trying. I signed up for better health insurance but it won’t kick in until November 1st. I’ll find an actual psychiatrist.

Anyway. After getting through a wedding out of town that was a big stressor for me, it went pretty well all things considered, I’m starting lexapro once again tomorrow morning and committing to getting through at least 2 weeks and see how it goes. Even though a top side effect is. Insomnia. 😑 This time I have the xanax to take as needed.

Just felt like typing this all out I guess because this has been the biggest mental health challenge of my life. Somehow worse than when I had panic attacks for months when I was 19. This has had me feeling beyond broken, confused, not myself, like I’ll never be ok again… totally scared and lost. So going forward all I have is meds hopefully helping me and the help of this yt channel and the guy’s book that arrives in a few days. This could be a continued struggle or it may get better soon. I’m scared and don’t know when I can work again. I only have so much funds and help but also very very blessed with my family which helps a lot. I hope I get past this and have a good 2024.

[the-black-mage-of-phantasm]

Envenomation: a Sucy Manbavaran fanfic

Art by the wonderful Pili BlueBerry on Instagram!

Ao3 Link to Story, FFN Link to Story

Summary: Sucy Manbavaran wasn’t the most “open” person. Aloof most of the time, sarcastic the rest, and always sadistic, she knew a lot of people thought she was nothing but the scariest witch in the room, and she was more than happy to let them think so. But even witches like her had fears. Ones she never liked to think about, and ones that gave her nightmares that had become far, far too real.

Current Chapters: 5

Current Length: 67,092 words

Updates Monthly. Next update, January 2nd, 2024

Hello there! It’s been about four months since I promised to update this story. And it’s been just as long any story for that matter. Yeesh.

So, to give a TL;DR about why I’ve been gone and what took this chapter so long: my mom got into a car accident on like day before I was going to upload this, and while she was fine, dealing with insurance to cover the accident has been a nightmare. I had to take more shifts at my job and work more hours to cover the bills while dealing with them, but, eventually, I got them to fork over the money.

After like three months of that, I started editing the draft for this chapter, and there were certain things I didn’t like, and certain plot points I wanted to change, which led to a massive rehaul of certain scenes here. And then like in the second week of  November, I got a really bad flu (surprisingly not COVID) that left me feeling like crap for the rest of the month, especially since I couldn’t take that many days of work, so I had to work while sick.

And this was all on top of dealing with the fact that the one year anniversary of my best friends death came and went, reminding me she isn't hear, and dealing with all the grief that brings.

So, that’s what I’ve been up to these last few months.  And yes, that was the summarized version.

I’m really sorry for the delay. And I’m afraid I have some more bad news: because of how busy I’ve gotten at my job, I’m gonna have to move this story to a monthly release. Sorry, but I don’t want to sacrifice the quality of this story by giving out incomplete works just to meet a deadline that I can push back.

But anyway, I do hope this chapter was worth the wait. It’s quite long (over 21,000 words, the longest chapter to date!), and there was a lot of talking here, but trust me when I say there were certain moments here that heavily foreshadow key plot points for later down the line. Also, I did my best to make the dialogue, especially between the red team and Ursula, feel authentic to them as characters,  as well as doing the emotional moments here justice, and I hope that it made for an enjoyable read. And now, I’m gonna work on the next chapter and try to get it out by January 2nd!

And with that, these notes come to a close. Don't hesitate to tell me what you liked and/or didn't like about this chapter!

#little witch academia #lwa #sucy manbavaran #lotte jansson #akko kagari #lwa jp #diana cavendish #envenomationlwa #lwa fanfic

[mittenwonders]

I’m sitting here crying as I write this. Lucky unfortunately is not a good fit. I know it’s only day 3 and everyone says “you gotta give it time!!” But here’s the thing: I have worked with animals and dogs my entire life. I volunteer at so many dog organizations and there has never been a dog I have never bonded with. I know that doesn’t hold significant weight and there will always be a time when you find one that won’t and my time has come.

It’s not that we DON’T get along - when he’s sweet, he’s real sweet and a cuddler. Unfortunately, due to his circumstances, and my circumstances, we just don’t fit like we should. Yes it’s day 3 but I’ve never met a dog that didn’t learn “no” fairly quickly. The only thing he responds to is “sit” and even that takes his entire focus. My mom and friend both mentioned that maybe due to the car accident, he could have some neurological issues. It’s been chaos since he’s come home and so when he finally tuckered out, I read the paperwork sent home with him in detail.

At the shelter, they went over the basics. I kept asking what breed he was. They just said “shepherd mix.” I was like ok but WHAT is he mixed with. They just kept saying get a DNA kit because they’re fun. The one thing I said I could not have is a pit bull. I’m not anti pit bull but unfortunately I live in a city where they are not permitted or covered by home insurance. I have kids who live all around me. One bite and I’m done for. Well turns out this shepherd isn’t even a shepherd. He’s a Black Mouth Cur. And guess what it said on his chip ID: pit bull terrier mix.

To say I’m pissed is an understatement. Regardless, I unfortunately have to give him back for that alone. But behavioral issue wise, it’s my gut feeling saying it’s not working out. While no neurological issues have been stated, it did go into detail about his car accident. It was brutal and awful and made me cry reading it. He was vomiting blood, lost his eye - he shouldn’t be alive which is why I renamed him Lucky to begin with. He won’t respond to the name. He won’t even respond to his shelter name of Ralph. When a dog just won’t respond period, how do you even begin to train? He caught onto being rewarded outside for potty real fast and we’ve had minimal accidents in the house which is surprising but he has SO MUCH ENERGY. The unfortunate thing is I live in a city where this is high traffic. He’s terrified of walks. After getting basics down is where I would have to then slowly introduce cars and walks to him. I have a big backyard but even then is not enough to get his energy out. He always wants to play and I LOVE that but due to his injuries, he has the mindset of a 2 month old puppy and he’s 6 months. He never learned bite inhibition and unfortunately his bites are BITES!! My arms this morning are bruised up and down. I’ve been playfully bitten by hundreds of dogs I’ve worked with and none have bruised. I am in so much physical pain today. Yesterday at my doctors I got taken aside and asked if I was being abused at home - it’s THAT bad.

There’s no way to get him under control in months. Eventually my dad will come home from rehab and with his new skin disease from his kidney failure, it just won’t work. He literally could kill my dad. My nephew loves him and he’s not hurt him at all. I know dogs sense special needs and I’m so happy nothing has happened but my niece is terrified of him. My sisters dog hates him. I know it takes time to bond but last night he curled up on me actually whimpering and crying. Little doggy tears rolled down his face and then I sobbed because holy shit this dog is laying on me crying literally the look of begging to get rid of him.

Last night, the ASPCA recommended when all else fails, rub bitter spray on yourself. It did stop the biting but then he also avoided me altogether and didn’t listen. Well fuck, that won’t do either. He’s stubborn as hell and would not get up this morning to go potty. He held it all night which surprised me because he’s also deathly afraid of rain!! I know some dogs don’t like it and hesitate but he was AFRAID. It makes me wonder if it was raining when he got hit by the car. I had to literally pick him up and carry him outside this morning. Then we had a morning play session and went right for my arms again. When I tried to take them away and stand up to walk away, he lunged for my neck. That was my hard stop and I’m crying because I know what needs to be done today.

Every puppy training classes I have looked into are 3-4 months and under and he doesn’t fit the criteria. He doesn’t fit the criteria for the advanced classes in his age group either. I could hire a private trainer but I also don’t want to invest more money for a gut feeling I already know the answer to.

Sometimes it just doesn’t work out. He’s not a bad dog by any means, but I’m not the right environment for him. I believe he has the potential to live a very happy and healthy life but not here. He’d do better in a one person home, with no other dogs and no kids and living country side where there’s no cars and room to really run. I didn’t want to be the person to have to return a dog as I know you take on the commitment but they also lied to me about a lot of things. I could have made a better, well informed decision and said no before I brought him home. I know it can be traumatic for dogs to go home to home especially a special needs pup but he at least needs to be with a good foster for a while and get some of the basics down before he’s officially adopted out. Just from what I saw, he moved through the system super fast so I was technically his first home since the original owner surrendered him after getting hit. I’m crying because I feel like I failed but I also think the best thing is returning him to be rehoused so hopefully he can have a better quality of life with someone who can provide what I cannot. I know rescues can be wonderful as that’s all we ever had but sometimes it truly just doesn’t work once they’re in the home environment. After the neck thing, I’m also scared of him myself which is never good anyways, no matter how long you have had them.

[arionawrites]

1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!

2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr

3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!

overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!

#aritalks #i did cry a little bit when i first woke up because i dont really know what to do about work and also i hate not having a car i can use #not only because of the work aspect but also getting my license when i was 18 gave me a freedom i didn’t have before #and i don’t like having to rely on other people just to like go to the fucking store or something yk #but then my best friend/roommate messaged me happy birthday and i was like fuck it! today is going to be a good day! #the stressful uncertainties can wait until tomorrow #also one of my best friends who hasn’t said happy birthday to me the past two years #(not intentionally im p sure they were just busy on my birthdays the past two years #and then had that moment of ‘oh shit i didnt send a message fuck i think its too late now’ which i totally get bc anxiety things yk) #was one of the first people to message me happy birthday!! #i’m also hoping to still be able to go see my mom and then stay the night at my dads tonight #so i can see both my parents and also my baby siblings for my birthday #my dads working today but after he texted happy birthday i sent him a text asking if he thinks we could still make it work #my mom is asleep still i think (she called me at midnight and left a voicemail singing happy birthday!! but her sleep schedule has been all #over the place recently so i’m waiting until 11:30 to call her which is in like 30 mins) #but she said something yesterday about driving out to me to give me a hug and also bring me my diabetes stuff that got delivered #(her house is my mailing address because i know it’s not going to change bc it’s my great grandparents house that she’s partially inhereting #when my great grandpa dies but since i have moved out of my dads my address has changed twice and i didnt have a mailbox at my last place so #just for the sake of consistency and not having to worry about important shit getting sent to the wrong address i’ve had her house as my #mailing address since i moved out of my dads at 19) #so i think i’m gonna ask her if she can just pick me up instead so i can go to her house w her and hang out with her #and hopefully my dad will be able to at least stop by with my siblings so i can see them too #i’d like to stay the night with them but if we can’t make it happen then i can also stay the night w my mom and hopefully tomorrow figure #out the car situation. might have to rent a car for a week if i can afford it? best case scenario is my moms car can be fixed but i still #dont know whats wrong with it ik there are two potential problems and one is fixable the other is not #the fixable one would cost like $150-$400 to fix depending on if we get a used part or a new one #if its $150-$200 ish i can probably afford to pay for the whole thing or at least most of it #but if its more than that hopefully my dad or one of my family members can help #and i can just pay them back in like $50 increments with my next few paychecks #just realized i said i wouldnt worry abt the car thing today and also i think im at tag limit to i’ll stop now lmao xoxo gossip girl ❤️

[heavencasteel420]

Don’t Tell Me What It’s All About for the wip ask game!! 🌚

Don’t Tell Me What It’s All About is the original title of my “Robin and Jonathan become friends in the summer of 1983” story. (The title is from the Burt Bacharach song “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again,” which is coincidentally from the musical Promises, Promises, based on Robin’s canonical fave movie The Apartment! I’ve since changed it to Tomorrow’s a Long Way Off, from “Past, Present, and Future” by the Shangri-Las, for thematic reasons, but I haven’t changed the file name.)

Robin, in this story, moved to Hawkins just before her freshman year of high school. She’s from Chicago and has aging hippie parents who decided to start a mushroom farm in small-town Indiana. (I just picked and chose from Rebel Robin, basically.) Her mom does most of the work on the farm while her dad has a day job selling insurance, and (although Robin isn’t fully aware of it) the whole set-up is pretty bad for their finances and their marriage. What she does notice is that her mom is irritable and overly critical of her, while her dad tries to play peacemaker.

Aware of and moderately unhappy about her sexuality (not self-hating but anxious about people finding out and understandably resentful of heteronormativity), Robin has made a concerted effort to fit in her first year and found a place with the band girls, who can be fun but sometimes pick on her for small things (having hippie parents, being a little awkward, not dressing up enough). By the time summer rolls around, she’s socially exhausted. She’s also eager to get out of the house to avoid her mother, so she gets a job at the Hawk, where Jonathan has been working for a year or so.

Jonathan is much as we find him at the beginning of S1: devoted to his mom and brother, socially isolated, and severely overburdened with adult concerns, both practical and emotional. He’s not getting directly bullied most of the time; the rank and file of Hawkins mostly just think he’s weird and stuck-up, the more assholish popular kids talk shit about his family and spread wild rumors about him as a joke (he’s gay AND he’s stealing panties from the laundromat AND he stabbed his dad with a screwdriver), and a couple of times some maladjusted Billy type has taken things to a dangerous level.

He and Joyce are also in the process of buying a used car from Lonnie, because Jonathan’s turning sixteen soon (he has a summer birthday for plot reasons and started school a year late) and they need a second car. Any transaction with Lonnie creates a lot of complications because he’s cruel and manipulative, but he’s offering a good enough price that they can’t really turn it down.

Anyway, Robin is indifferent to Jonathan’s presence at first (assuming that his solitude is more of a choice than it really is) and he’s nervous about working with someone from school thanks to years of ostracism, but then they realize that the other person is actually okay and that they have a lot in common. Which is good, because they both have way too much to deal with on their own.

#it’s a pretty slice of life kind of story #although one scary thing happens to Jonathan #and later another happens to Robin #they also end up way more entangled in Steve’s complicated love life than either ever wanted #that’s not scary I just think it’s funny #asks #tomorrow’s a long way off

[collecting-stories]

Driving Lessons - Steve Harrington

Request: i had something in mind with steve teaching reader how to drive, and she's all clumsy and very very bad at driving. Steve is kinda scared to die (i'm exaggerating) but tries to be calm and have patience with her and is all cute.

A/N: I’m so so sorry that this took so long to post. It’s just been kinda crazy at my house lately and it’s been a rough month!

 Stranger Things Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“I can’t believe they gave you a permit,” Steve mused, holding the piece of paper in his hands and examining it, as if you’d somehow managed to doctor the driving permit.  

“Well they did,” you replied, plucking the paper from his hands and folding it back up into your bag, “so, what’d you say? Wanna help me clock driving hours?”  

“Don’t you need an adult to do that?” He asked, skeptical and maybe a little reluctant to actually get in a car with you behind the wheel.

“I’m looking at one, you just turned 18 last week, meaning you are uniquely qualified to assist me in gaining driving experience.” You replied, smiling at him as innocently as you could muster.  

“What about Nancy’s mom? I thought she was doing some driving lessons on the side?” He asked. He’d driven over to your house in his parents station wagon and now he stood there watching you eyeing up the car, knowing it wouldn’t be long before you were in the driver’s seat. He would love to say that he could resist you a little bit better than that but he knew it wasn’t true. If you wanted to test drive around the neighborhood, who was he to stop you?  

“Why would I ask Nancy’s mom when I have you right here?” You asked, “now are we going or what?”

“Right now?” Steve clarified, looking momentarily concerned that you wanted to drive around Hawkins and not just go to some empty mall lot and practice.  

You shrugged, “why not?” You were eager to get out on the road and practice. Your birthday was later than all your friends, the last to turn 16 and so the last to get your permit. Watching Nancy drive and Barb get a car was frustrating, especially when you were stuck getting rides all the time. Steve was always happy to offer and you doubted your boyfriend would ever actually complain about having to take you somewhere but you still wanted to drive.  

“I don’t really know if I’m the right person to be like, giving you driving lessons. I mean, I’ve only been driving like...two years.” Steve replied, hands in his pockets as he looked away from you. He was trying not to flat out say no but there was no way he really wanted to get in a car with you behind the wheel. You might’ve gotten your permit but he’d seen you drive in the junkyard and he knew for a fact that you were a little manic in the driver’s seat.  

“It’ll be fine Steve, please?” You asked; begging was not above you.  

It didn’t take much convincing, despite his hesitancy, for Steve to agree to giving you a driving lesson. Mostly because it was you and while he maybe, definitely, didn’t trust you behind the wheel of a car, he trusted you in general. A sentiment he wanted to retract the moment he was actually in the car with you.  

You weren’t a bad driver, per say, but you were a fast driver. You took the curb without braking, almost missed three stop signs, and ran a red light in front of the supermarket. Steve alternated between gripping the handle on the door and sinking down in his seat so that anyone driving or walking passed might not see him in the car with you. Every time he felt the car accelerate, he tensed, his whole body seizing up as he tried not to audibly gasp.  

“You sound like my mom,” you laughed as you rolled to a stop at an intersection, waiting for your turn. Steve was sitting up straight, back pressed to the vinyl seat of his parent’s station wagon, the only noise in his ears was the sound of his father explaining how the insurance worked if someone other than he or Steve’s mom drove the car.  

“Excuse me for wanting to actually make it back to my house in one piece.” Steve replied, the high-pitched trill in his voice nearly spot on to his mother’s.  

When you finally arrived back at your house and parked the car under the port he practically threw himself out of the car, breathing a deep sigh of relief. You rolled your eyes, cutting the engine after putting the car in park and unbuckling your own seat belt.  

“You’re so dramatic,” you laughed, getting out of the car.  

“Dramatic? You practically killed me on the drive over here!” He exclaimed, running his hand through his hair.  

“I didn’t kill you,” you replied, “besides, you had your seat belt on so tight it probably cut off all the circulation in your body.”  

“I had to! You drive like a maniac! I love you but the next time I get in a car with you, you’ll be the passenger.”

“You’re banning me from driving?” You laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion. There was no way that Steve would actually be sucessful in banning you from driving. He’d tried to stop you from renting The Dark Crystal for the millionth time for movie night but all it’d taken was a pout and he’d caved. This was just as empty a threat and you both knew it.  

“That’s what I said!” He insisted, ignoring the laughter. “There are a lot of things in Hawkins that have tried to kill me and you won’t be one of them!” He huffed, running a hand through his hair and tugging gently on the ends as he turned away from you. You wanted to laugh harder but resisted the urge, watching him throw his small hissy fit over the car and the drive.  

“Why don’t we just go in and watch a movie? You can pick?” You offered, “I think my mom left pizza money.”  

“I pick the pizza too!” He replied quickly, following you into the house, “I’m not eating that weird spinach crap you like!”

-

taglist: @mystic-writings @kenzi-woycehoski 

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #collecting stories imagine

[scholastic-dragon]

Ahh so I’ve had brain cancer since Feb of 2019 (it’s come back 3 times and i just came home from the hospital yesterday so this is why I’m asking) but Quill has been a huge comfort character to me through this. I’ve always seen him as my older brother and imagining him being there for me (especially since his mom had what I have, probably hits him hard) had played a HUGE part in getting me through this. If it’s okay to ask, how do you think he would react fo his sister figure going through this- like how would be support her? (I know it’s weird to find so much comfort in a fictional character but he’s really helped me through this emotionally tbh)

Hun, it is 100% alright for you to have found comfort in him. I hope things get better or continue to stay good for you and I hope this brings you comfort <3

Peter Quill x Sister!Reader

Through Thick and Thin

Word Count: 613

Warnings: talks of cancer, mentions of Quills mom (illusions to parental death), little angst, big fluff,

Summary: you and Quill have a heart-to-heart

"Easy now, there ya go," Quill gently took your arm, helping you down the steps of the hospital.

"I know," You force a laugh, exhaustion creeping through your joints, you just want to get back to the Milano and take a nap.

Quill doesn't let go of your arm as your reach the pathway, gently pulling you along to the parking local where the ship was.

He put himself in between any and all people that could possibly bump into you, insuring you were fully covered and protected from anything. He had been doing this more and more recently since your sickness started to come back.

"Pete, I'll be okay if you let go of my arm," You side eye him ad he nudges a garbage can out of the way.

"I know," He scoffs but doesn't let go.

You don't press and allow him to take you back to the ship, holding your hands as he helps you up the landing ramp.

He kicks open your bedroom door and sits you down on your bed.

You tried not to be annoyed, he was just trying to help, but in the last few weeks he'd glued himself to your side. He never let you do anything alone and never gave you any room to breath.

"Alright, do you need anything? Water? Food? Maybe a change of clothes?" He snaps his fingers at his last question, going over to your dresser and pulling out some clothes.

"Pete, I'm fine really, I can do it," You stand up, putting your hand on his arm to stop him.

"Yeah, I know," He sighs. "But you don't have to,"

"What's this really about, Pete?" You cross your arms, taking a step back from him, watching him shrug and look down at your dresser.

"Nothin' I'm....I'm just watching out for you, I don't want you to be alone-"

"I'm never alone!" You snap. "You haven't left my side in weeks and even if you did, I have the others to keep me company, I'm not alone," You sigh, dropping your arms and glancing down at the floor. "I didn't mean to snap like that, I can just tell there's something else bothering you,"

He sighs, setting the shirt he grabbed on top of your dresser, closing the drawer and turning to face you.

"The....the thing you have now.....it's what.....it's what my mom had," His eyes glass over, voice cracking, face flushing. "And I wasn't there for her, and I won't let it happen with you," A few stray tears spill down his cheeks. "I can't loose you too, you're....you're like a little sister to me,"

You move before he finished, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him. Your fingers clawed at his leather jacket, trying to pull him closer, your own tears threatening to spill over.

Gently, he wrapped his arms around you, resting the side of his face against yours, chest shaking with sobs.

"What happened to your mom....it's not gonna happen again, I promise," You whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"I know it won't, I won't make the same mistakes again," His voice croaked, you could tell he was holding back tears of his own.

"Pete, you didn't make any mistakes-"

"I wasn't there when she needed me," You felt the tears fall from his face and roll onto your cheek. "That's not gonna happen with you, I'll be here every step of the way,"

"You promise?" Your own tears spill past, blurring your vision, you close your eyes and tuck your head into his neck.

"I promise, we're family, we stick together through thick and thin,"

#guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy headcannons #guardians of the galaxy imagine #guardians of the galaxy imagines #gotg #gotg headcannons #gotg imagines #gotg imagine #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 headcannons #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 imagines #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 imagine #gotg2 #gotg2 imagine #gotg2 imagines #gotg2 headcannons #peter quill #quill #peter quill imagine #peter quill headcannons #peter quill x reader

[findingmypeace]

I still sometimes have the urge to be sick (with the ed) or at least sick enough. I am mostly able to brush those thoughts off because I have no interest in spending the rest of my life continuing the cycle of being in and out of treatment centers.

But today that thought is very loud and that is NOT a good way to start off an incredibly stressful few weeks. I’ve been at the crossroads of recovery vs relapse for a while now and I am scared this will push me over the edge. I have several scales saved on my Amazon account but I can’t bring myself to purchase one because I feel like that’s the crucial boundary between recovery and relapse. Once I buy that scale it’s all over and relapse has fully set in.

Treatment is stuff is up in the air. As of Jan. 1st I will have new insurance and that complicates things. I am 99% positive I will continue with treatment. It’s just a matter of where and if I will be accepted at iop vs php. Right now, my current insurance has approved me through Dec. 31st so I will be staying where I’m at until then. But that’s only two more weeks and leaving the staff behind brings up a whole set of attachment issues.

Finally, I am dreading Christmas. Usually it’s my favorite time of year and I enjoy every minute of it. This will be the second year I am completely alone on Christmas Day. My brother and his wife are going on a two week cruise for their honeymoon. I refuse to go up to Utah and stay at my parent’s house where Christmas will be celebrated. Obviously they are not coming down here. That leaves me with no one. Same as last year. My Mom called me for the second time since the wedding. She wanted access to my Amazon wish list so she could send me presents. I had recently, purposely, removed her access because I knew her presents would be picked from there. I wasn’t sure why getting Christmas presents pissed me off so much. Of course, I am grateful for them and know what a privilege it is to receive them. But it’s not about that. It’s that as I have grown older Christmas has become less and less about the presents and more about the memories, the excitement in the air, and all the traditions and time spent with my family. The past two years it has felt like I can’t have that. Last year I didn’t decorate until Christmas Eve and only because LS encouraged me to. This year, I have slowly put decorations up. But it doesn’t seem celebratory at all. It feels like it will be just your usual day except I get two days of PTO. This makes me so sad. I adore Christmas and it feels like whole thing has been erased.

#personal #ed treatment #attachment trauma #bulimia #eating disorders #trauma #anorexia b/p #Christmas #Family

[threegoblinart]

mom I messed up and I’m freaking out. I got bad news this morning and I lost a friend and I dont know if I can fix it and I’ve been spiraling all day and I can’t talk about this to anyone irl. im super worried, any advice?

Oh man, my Tumblr just got serious, but it's okay I know sometimes internet strangers are a safe place for many people!

My old lady mom words of wisdom? (Assuming no one has been put in danger of course) We ALL fuck up. Sometimes we can fix it, sometimes we can't. Sometimes fixing things takes time. Give yourself a little room to cool down from the adrenaline, if you're on meds remember to take them, drink some water and have a snack. Get some rest and tackle it again with a clear head. Stay away from any "relaxers" that are big uppers or downers... I won't tell you what to do with your life recreationally, but at least for the next couple days they probably won't help in a good way.

If you're not in a safe place mentally or emotionally please do whatever you need to insure your personal safety and remember even if you've messed something up the world is better with you here and you can figure this out.

There might be an answer you're not seeing right now because of panic and adrenaline. Try to fix any mistakes, apologize if it requires it... Even if something can't go back to normal do what you can to give it closure. And that's okay... Sometimes we can't fix everything, sometimes life has big explosive things that cause change in big explosive uncomfortable ways.

I hope tomorrow is a little better. ❤️. And I'd love it if whoever this is is here to send just a little "I'm okay-ish" message tomorrow

[thefreakymunson]

Leather and Lace, Chapter 5

taglist: @fuckmeupeds @xcatnapsx @sidthedollface2 @aysheashea @eddiemunson95 @micheledawn1975 @sherrylyn628 @mrsmunson81 Leather and Lace Masterlist

Later that night, Luna was laying in her bed, her mind reeling a mile a minute.  She felt stupid and humiliated, her cheeks burning with embarrassment every time she thought back to it.  She knew she shouldn’t feel ashamed – kissing Eddie was everything she thought it would be.  He tasted like tobacco, the cheap beer that was being served, and him.  His kiss was seering, and if she closed her eyes, she could still feel his lips against hers. 

She was restless.  Glancing over at the clock, it read 4:03 AM and she wanted to rip her hair out.  She felt guilty with how she handled things with Elizabeth, but even more so for just leaving the party, and Eddie, as quickly as possible.  She didn’t even tell him goodbye…and she regretted it. 

Summer had just begun, the sweltering air inside her bedroom was enough to make anyone need fresh air.  She pulled on a pair of black leggings, her clunky combat boots, and her closest tank top before she quietly checked in on her mom, finding her fast asleep, and then slipped out the front door into the stale stagnant summer night air.  Her boots crunched over loose gravel, the only sound in the deafeningly quiet trailer park.

She didn’t know why she done it – maybe her feet were thinking faster than her mind was,  maybe she was silently hoping he was still awake, but she found herself standing on Eddie’s doorstep.  The pickup truck wasn’t in the driveway, but his van was, signaling it was just him there.  The trailer was quiet, but she could vaguely make out a faint light in the last window. 

When he came to the door after a few knocks, stumbling over his own feet, his hair was in disarray, his chest bare, his pajama pants slung low on his hips.   His face was squinched in confusion as he looked up at her standing on the opposite side of his screen door, eyes still filled with sleep and itchy eyes.

“Luna,” his voice rasped, “What are you doing? You okay?”

“No,” she shook her head, “I…I wanted to apologize…for earlier…and also everything.”

“It’s late,” Eddie frowned as he pushed the door open and allowed her to step into the slightly cooler trailer, “What do you have to apologize for?”

“Everything,” Luna nodded, “I’m sorry I woke you up…its been eating me up all night.”

She followed him into the small kitchen area and sat down on one of the stools, watching as he pushed a button on the coffee maker.  He took a minute, trying to force himself to wake up even further, before sitting two coffee mugs down on the counter and turning for the fridge.

“What’s been eating you up all night?”

“That I left without saying goodbye to you…that I lied…that I kept everything a secret.” Luna fiddled with her thumbs as she watched him place the carton of milk down on the counter in between their coffee mugs, “That I let you believe that Elizabeth was Liz.”

“That last part is kinda shitty,” Eddie sighed softly, watching as the coffee maker bubbled, “But the rest of it…Luna,  I don’t want your apology.”

“Can I just…talk for a few minutes?” She looked over at him, “Let me explain.”

“Okay,” he nodded, perching his head on his hand as he leaned over the counter, giving her his undivided attention.

“I’ve always been picked on, you know? Kids in school…they used to pick on me for everything…my clothes, the food I’d bring for lunch…ya know, coming from two hippies made it hard.” She snorted, “But then I got to high school…and then I met you…and I thought you were really cool.  And I’d try and talk with you or get partnered up with you and you just weren’t having it.  I uh…I started stripping once we found out my mom had cancer.  Insurance wouldn’t cover her treatment and…she was all I had left, ya know? I wanted to try and make sure she got the best care, no matter what… I’m her only kid…I just didn’t want to let her down.”

Eddie listened to her intently, moving only a step to the side to pour them each a cup of coffee.

“And then she got so sick she couldn’t work at all and all the bills fell on me to pay,” Luna shrugged, “And I just…I couldn’t strip so close to Hawkins and have people find out about it, ya know? I’d be known as the whore of Hawkins high. And then when Elizabeth moved here, I got her into it too because it’s good money and its easy enough that I don’t have to really do anything. I got good at keeping my life separate from the club…and then you came in and after all these years, you finally paid attention to me and it just…felt good to finally be seen by you, I guess? I wanted to know you more…I liked the moment we had together.  And I figured that once you knew who I was – who was under that mask, you wouldn’t want to be around me anymore.  You wouldn’t want anything to do with me or Liz and that scared me.  That’s why I didn’t want to tell you…I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You didn’t disappoint me.” Eddie shrugged, “You always seemed so…caught up in whatever you had going on when I did try to talk to you, so I figured you just weren’t into me…that’s why I thought it was Elizabeth, I guess.”

“That’s the thing – I don’t know where confidence comes from.  I put my mask on and I feel like a completely different person.” She shrugged, “I feel like someone actually might find me attractive that way.”

“But Lu,” Eddie frowned, “You’re beautiful as Luna too.”

She felt the tears well up in her eyes as she looked over at him.  The look on his face said he meant it; meant every word he was saying to her.  His eyebrows were raised, sleepy eyes wide, his lips shaped into a small grin.  He thought she was pretty – beautiful, even. No one had ever told her she was beautiful with that look on their face.

“I’m sorry for making you think I wasn’t seeing you,” Eddie shook his head, “I know you said I never seen you, but I did.  I promise I did.  I saw you in the chorus shows, I saw you in the hallways, I saw you in the mornings…I saw everything.  I swear I did.” Eddie frowned, “You’re not invisible as you think you are…not to me.”

“Eddie-“

“No, mean it.” Eddie shook his head, “I’m sorry as hell for what you’ve went through in the past.  School fucking sucks, I know firsthand experience.”

She watched as he walked around the counter and turned in her seat to face him.  She looked up at him, watching as his eyes gazed over her face, his hands coming to rest on her thighs as he bent down towards her. 

“But I definitely see you now,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips.  He went to say something else, but her fingers threaded through his hair and pulled him back down against her, lips slotting together in a slow kiss.  His hands slid up from her thighs to her waist as she sat up taller, her arms pulling him tighter in against her. 

And just as she closed her eyes, the images flashed through her mind of just how flirty he was with Elizabeth.  Watching them basically fawn over each other in the gas station, knowing that they hooked up after she left. 

It was less than a week ago he was fucking her best friend.

“Stop,” she whispered, gently pushing back on his chest, “I – I can’t.  We can’t, Eddie.  We can’t.”

“Why not?” Eddie asked, leaning back away from her a few inches, “What’s stopping us?”

“The fact that you slept with Elizabeth four days ago, Eddie.” She frowned, “I can’t do that to her.  It’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing about this that’s wrong, Luna.” Eddie huffed, “We both know how bad we want this.”

“Morally, it’s wrong.  Elizabeth is supposed to be my best friend.” She closed her eyes and stood up, “I shouldn’t have come here.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t go,” he said, reaching out to gently grasp her arm.  She turned and looked at him, seeing the desperation on his eyes – his brows furrowed as if he was trying to understand what was happening.

She was sure her face read the same.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, frustrated tears brimming her eyes as she looked over at him and then turned to walk out of the door.

She didn’t see him, or anybody, the rest of the weekend.  She stayed at home, caring for her mother and went to work at night.  If he came by the club, he didn’t’ show himself to her, and Elizabeth came only to clean out her locker – apparently she had the leisure of quitting this club while being able to support herself on the salary of a gas station clerk. 

When Monday morning rolled around, she found herself climbing onto the bus.  Her car was still shot and there was no way she had the gal to ask Eddie for a ride.  Not after what she pulled on him twice.  She was dreading Chemistry class, knowing she would have to sit behind him, knowing she would have to face him.  If the truancy officer wasn’t on her ass, she would have just skipped out on school today.

When she got off the bus, she walked straight into the school, avoiding the usual hangout area where she and Elizabeth and the other girls would spend a few minutes together.  She avoided the parking lot where she knew Eddie would be, smoking with his friends before the bell rang – she avoided it all…and as she laid her eyes on her locker, she regretted even waking up this morning.

Luna stared at her locker, tears brimming in her eyes.  She wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling the flannel tighter around her as photos of her getting dressed at the club were plastered to it.  Ones that revealed her face, showed her half naked, exposed everything.  She hastily wiped her eyes and stepped back, knowing everyone was staring at her. Even though she was fully clothed, she felt completely naked and vulnerable.

“If it isn’t the whore of Hawkin’s herself,” She heard from behind her and she turned to see Elizabeth standing there with the group of what she thought was her friends, “Guess our little bunny is no secret any longer, huh?”

It seemed like all the eyes in the hallway were glued to her, gawking at her as they glanced between the photos and her.  She couldn’t breathe, her clothes felt too heavy, her chest was too tight – they were staring at her and laughing amongst themselves.

“Why?” Luna frowned, shaking her head in disbelief, “Why would you do this?”

“I told you that you were going to pay for what you done,” Elizabeth said as she walked closer, “I thought we were friends, Luna.”

“Friends don’t do this-“

“Friends don’t kiss their friends’ boyfriends, either.” Elizabeth cut her off as she stepped closer to her, towering over her short frame.

“You never said he was your boyfriend.  Be for real, Elizabeth, you didn’t like him until you realized I did.” Luna shook her head, “You just hooked up with him in the back of the shell station and confused him.”

“Sweetheart, the only one that was confused was me for thinking that I should’ve ever given either of you the time of day,” Elizabeth snorted. 

Just as Luna was about to say something else,  Eddie and Gareth broke through the crowd and stared in shock.  Luna felt her face flush even redder as she locked eyes with him. 

“The whore and the freak, how fitting.” Elizabeth scoffed, rolling her eyes in disbelief, “Thet wo of you fucking deserve each other."

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson AU #Eddie Munson x OC #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Stranger Things #Stranger Things AU #original fics

[astrangewoman]

my first psychiatrist misdiagnosed me as bipolar (as well as an abundance of other things, some of which were correct) when I was 21, and he once recommended electroshock therapy if they “couldn’t get my mood swings under control” with medication. I was taking 14-16 different pills then. I was sedated from some of them, so he prescribed me others to wake me up. I was taking pills that made me shake so hard I couldn’t write, so he prescribed me additional ones to combat it. he fought side effects from pills with more pills. I couldn’t focus. I could hardly hold a conversation, much less retain anything. my cognitive abilities were completely shot. I was taking 900+ mg of lithium every night and 70 mg of vyvanse in the morning to wake me up and help me focus and 20 mg of adderall in the afternoon to perk me up when the vyvanse’s effects would start to wane.

I wasn’t bipolar.

I was a mentally and emotionally abused girl dealing with prolonged trauma, and I was reacting to triggers and boundaries repeatedly being crossed in a chaotic and unsafe home environment.

he was going to use electroshock therapy on me because he ran out of options when the myriad of pills he put me on weren’t shutting off my brain or my emotions like he wanted, like my mom wanted. she actually considered it, which felt like a betrayal because it seemed so unsafe and barbaric to me. (she never should’ve been involved in the conversation in the first place but my doctor always insisted that she sit in on our appointments. I was still living with her, and I didn’t know better, and I was afraid to speak up.) I actually considered it, even though it scared me terribly, because I didn’t know any other way out of my suffering that wasn’t final.

I took 900 mg of lithium every day for almost 9 years before I finally found a psychiatrist who recognized what I’d always suspected but was never supported. my brain will never ever be the same.

I think about that all the time. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it.

idk where I’m going with this or why I’m even sharing. it’s been weighing heavy on my mind and my heart this week, for some reason. the moral of my story, I guess, is to advocate for yourself. if something doesn’t feel right, speak up and get a second opinion if you can. I was unfortunately ignored and felt beaten down to a point where I just kind of accepted my diagnoses until I couldn’t anymore. my doctors (I left that one shortly after the electroshock suggestion) found a cocktail of medications that seemingly did the trick, and by that I mean my anxiety and depression were subdued enough that I could more-or-less function so it seemed like these doctors were on to something. until they abruptly stopped doing the trick. until I finally put my armchair research on trauma disorders to work and found a therapist who listened and who recommended a psychiatrist who understood.

I hate that psychiatrists are so expensive and that the “good ones” I’ve come across don’t take my (or any) insurance. I hate that mental healthcare feels more, and is more, like a privilege than the most basic human right. I hate that my first two psychiatrists only thought of trauma disorders in relation to military veterans and not abuse survivors (or any other way that trauma could manifest itself). I worry about the fact that my first doctor is primarily a youth psychiatrist because that means that actual children could be facing the same experience and misdiagnoses I was when I was seeing him. I hate that I feel powerless in stopping it. sharing my story helps make me feel better. I don’t know that it would or does make a difference for others, but I don’t feel like just writing this down in a private place just for me. I’m not afraid to be honest and speak out anymore, like I used to be. I’m not afraid of the boogeyman, no matter who he might be.

#personal #mental health

[mezmer]

I take encouragement very well. To the point that I feel it would change my whole life to hear it.

I spent the whole last year telling myself it’s a wrong to seek encouragement from others in my life, and that I should learn to encourage myself, but a year later I’ve only gotten so far and I feel a sadness, a coldness, without somebody asking me, hey did you do your exercises tonight? How has that been going? The scoliosis shit is a war I surrendered to for almost a decade until I was slouched nodding out on fentanyl waiting for death. It was only this year that I got help and started fighting it. When a curve passes 40 decrees, the prognosis for noninvasive intervention is poor. The only good results I’ve seen from severe patients are the ones who fought for it. I’m so inspired by that. I just wish I had a few folks on my team cheering me on, interested in it. First thing in January I’m calling my physical therapist again to charge my insurance for another 20 appointments just to hear her encouragement and interest.

There’s a certain culture or an aura that surrounds scoliosis as a condition and it’s patients that to me is just a weird joke to other people. The reactions I’ve gotten over the years could make a whole post. Really, it’s something people don’t give a shit about. I’ve dealt with it now, but it mystifies me. Why? I don’t know, but I have a feeling this strange rejection contributes to my not having anyone cheering me on.

I hear often that people are so proud of me for kicking opiates. Well, I didn’t try that hard at all. That isn’t a brag, although it’s truly a miracle.. I only have God to thank.. I just walked away and said I’m done. I feel like scoliosis is a way more bloody and intense war. I’ve tried to share this in a way that doesn’t drive anyone away… the words themselves are driven away.

Anyway, point of it is, I realized finally that encouragement isn’t that much to ask for and I am innocent for seeking it out. Specifically for what I feel so beaten down about. I would love to return the favor and I do try. What hurts more is that the encouragement i dole out to some people is completely trashed. If I heard the words I say to others, i would feel completely magical, enchanted with power.

This goes for more than my back. When anyone says I’m a good mom, the first thing I go and do is pick her up and tickle her and smile. It is so infectious how this positivity hits me. And, you never know who needs to hear it so do not hesitate for a second. I KNOW HOW FRUSTRATING IT IS when you feel like somebody you are trying to help does not care. Some things I heard a decade ago come to me now like the acorn finally opened and a tree grew. They were just lying dormant and every word suddenly rings true. Maybe, if you pass along encouragement, it won’t work right away for some people. For me, it does. When I’m even tasked with something (something POSITIVE and helpful or loving) by another person, I feel compelled to get right to it.