#and an outlet for my own mental health issues hi

[liebgottsjumpwings]

"I'm not one to ever pray for mercy, or to wish on pennies, in the fountain or the shrine. But that day, you know, I left my money. And I thought of you only, all that copper glowing fine. And I wonder what became of you."

RHONA "RO" IRVINE | MASTERS OF THE AIR

Born under the gloomy light of the working lighthouse of Rosehearty, Scotland, Rhona Irvine is a hard headed and intensely dedicated navigator in the 100th Bombardment Group. Having moved to Oregon, United States at age nine, not long after her mother’s death, followed by Rhona’s first experience with ongoing mental health issues. Being seen as an outsider by her new American classmates, struggling with her own mental health and having no outlet, Rhona learned to keep a hard exterior. These struggles caused her to drop out of school several times, never fully finishing her education. Instead, Rhona focused on the Girl Scouts, finding refuge in being in the wilderness and learning how to live off the land.

It was the knowledge and skills she gained in the Girl Scouts that eventually made her find herself among planes, hangars and maps in the army of the United States. She wasn’t even sure on how she got accepted. To her father, upon asking Rhona on why the hell she would even apply, she had answered, with a half-formed smile, “I guess I like maps”.

Now, sitting against the bricked wall of her sleeping quarters in Thorpe Abbots, England, Rhona wondered if the penny she’d left, 13 years ago, at the well in her garden back in Rosehearty, was finally going to grant her that luck.

BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION

Name: Rhona Carol Darlene Irvine

Age: 22 (as of May 1943)

Date of birth: January 28, 1921 at 20:36

Place of birth: Rosehearty, Aberdeenshire, Scotland, United Kingdom

Hometown: Newport, Lincoln County, Oregon, United States of America

Occupation:  United States Army Air Force navigator

Affiliation: Eight Air Force; 100th Bombardment Group

PLAYLIST ONE | PLAYLIST TWO | PINTEREST

#soft launching my oc #masters of the air #everyone say hi to ro #pleaaaase give feedback <3 #i've paired her with blakely btw #hbo war #this is also an exploration into themes i am interested in outside of mota #and an outlet for my own mental health issues hi #oc: rhona

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 27

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives. 

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions about intimate partner violence, suicidal ideation, mental health struggles, drug abuse, and alcohol abuse.

Chapter Quote: "I got to snuggle some baby goats."

It took everything in me to hold back the sob that threatened to escape the instant I heard Dieter’s voice. I momentarily placed my hand over my mouth to hold it in and compose myself. I let out a shaky breath as I tried to find my voice. 

“Dieter?” 

I could hear his stuttered breathing on the other end of the line. He sounded like he was battling with his emotions too. 

He cleared his throat, “Yeah… it’s me.”

I sighed loudly into the phone as the tears started to slide down my face. I felt like my brain had completely shut down on me, unsure of what to say but also feeling the urge to say everything all at once. It was so overwhelming but also awkward since we had not talked in so long. There were still so many things up in the air between us. 

“How’ve you been?” He asked, sounding unsure of himself. I felt like he didn’t know what to say either. 

I sniffed loudly as I wiped at my face, “Umm, I’ve been ok. How are you feeling?” 

“I’m feeling good. Normal, I think…then again…I’m not sure I really know what normal is,” we both laughed nervously.

“I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I can confidently say that at least,” he added. 

I smiled. It was nice to know that he was feeling better. It helped dampen some of the worry I had been feeling. 

“How are things going, otherwise?”

“Well, I got to snuggle some baby goats during group therapy this morning. I kinda want one now.”  He sounded unabashed about this revelation. 

“Of course you do,” I said in response, shaking my head and chuckling at the thought. 

“I gotta new roommate two weeks ago…Gordon is his name. He’s an interesting guy…he uhhh…” he stifled a laugh before continuing. “He said he came here because the wall outlets were talking to him. Like, full conversations. They finally stopped after he got his meds sorted out. Made me feel a little better about my issues.”

I was a little dumbfounded, “Ummm, I’m not sure if I should laugh about that or not…” Dieter snickered, “He jokes about it now, so I think it’s ok.” 

It felt good to hear him laughing again. I had missed that sound more than I realized. I really missed his voice in general. He sounded different. Better, lighter almost. It was a sound I wanted to commit to memory. 

“Umm…so Gabby said you didn’t take that job offer?” His nervousness had returned with that question. 

“No, I turned it down.” I started rubbing at my shoulder with my free hand as I moved to sit down at the kitchen table. 

“Why? It sounded like an amazing opportunity”

I sighed, now rubbing at the crease between my brows, “It was, but it’s not where I wanted to be or what I wanted to do. I would’ve had to give up too much and I don’t feel like I’m in the right headspace to do that.”

“I hope it wasn’t because of me…”

“No. I mean, I guess I can’t say no. You’re part of it…but my life is here. I can’t leave Lauren or even Gabby and Alex at this point. We’ve all gotten so close. And like I said, I’m not in the right headspace for that. I would’ve been spending a lotta time alone and I don’t wanna do that right now. It just wasn’t where I felt like I should be. I didn’t feel any kind of excitement over it at all, so I turned it down”

I suddenly felt vulnerable revealing that to him, questioning if I should have. I didn’t want him to worry about me when he needed to be focusing on himself. 

“Are you sure you’re doing ok?” He asked quietly. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, I promise. I’m just…I-” I huffed, shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to finish that thought. I didn’t want to make any assumptions about how he was feeling or make an ass of myself. 

I heard him chuckle quietly over my flustered response, “I miss you too.” 

I was instantly calmed by his words, my anxiety about where we stood easing some. I let out a shy laugh at his declaration, tears still running down my face as I sniffled out, “You do?”

“Of course, I do, so fucking much… I - I’m sorry I haven't called you. I wanted to make sure I had a clear head when I did, and then I didn’t really know what to say after everything that happened.”

I heard him inhale sharply before he spoke up again, there was a tapping noise, like he was drumming his fingers against something.

“Listen, I’ve only got a few minutes left before they cut me off for today, but the reason I called…” 

He paused, clearing his throat nervously, “Umm, so I wanted to see if you would be willing to come here and do a session with my psychiatrist and me…”

“Of course, when?”

“Whenever you can. Just uhh, call my case worker and she’ll get it scheduled.” 

I could hear him shuffle around before he started cursing under his breath. 

“Well, I was gonna give you the number but now I can’t find it...Gabby should have it.” 

I couldn’t help but to snigger at him. He was still a little bit of a hot mess, which I loved about him. 

He followed up with an exasperated “sorry” about not being able to find the number before he let out a quiet laugh at himself. It felt like part of it was his nervousness too. 

“I’ll text her to get it as soon as we hang up and I’ll call immediately.” 

I could hear him sigh in relief before a beeping noise broke into our conversation with an automated message giving a one minute warning. 

“I’ll be there tomorrow if they’ll let me…or at least as soon as they’ll let me,” I said in a rush. Suddenly feeling the pressure of our limited time. I still felt like I had so many things to say to him. 

“I would like that. I…I really can’t wait to see you…” 

His words trailed off, shaking slightly as he was hit with another wave of emotions. 

“I can’t wait to see you either,” I replied with a quivering voice. 

After a moment of silence, there was a clicking sound as the line disconnected. I held the phone against my forehead, trying to get my breathing back to normal. Once I was able to focus my thoughts, I sent a quick text to Gabby to let her know that Dieter had called and that I needed the number for his case worker. I half expected her to call me, but thankfully she didn’t. She replied back quickly with the number and that she was happy he finally reached out. She followed that message up with another asking me if I was ok and if I needed to talk about it. I appreciated her offer, but I was good for now and let her know as much. Once I finished texting with Gabby, I dialed the number for the case worker, suddenly feeling nervousness forming in the pit of my stomach. 

“Sanctuary Hills, this is Sharon,” the polite, yet comforting voice answered.

“Hi Sharon, this is Natalia Cohen…” She cut in before I could continue. 

“Oh, Talia, hi. I’ve been expecting your call. Dieter told me he was going to be calling you.” 

I let out a nervous laugh, slightly taken aback by the familiarity in which she said my name. It made me wonder how much he had talked about me. 

“I assume you’re calling about an appointment for a family session?” 

I didn’t know why, but it stirred something in me when she called it a family session. Technically, I wasn’t his family, but they were treating me as if I were. I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes again as I exhaled out a breathy “yes” in response.

“That’s wonderful news, I know he’ll be overjoyed to see you.” I could hear the smile in her voice

“I can’t wait to see him either,” I replied, still trying to keep the emotions out of my words.

“Alright, let me have a look at the schedule. Dr. Rosenberg did ask that you be prepared to be available for at least a week for additional sessions, if possible.” 

“Additional sessions?” I was confused. I couldn’t recall if the same thing had been asked of Gabby, which caused my anxiety to flare.  

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal for that to happen. It’s mostly educational sessions for family members if they’re willing to participate.”

“Oh, ok. That doesn’t sound so bad.” I laughed nervously. 

“When would you like to come in?” she asked with a calming tone.

“As soon as you can get me in is preferable.” I started tapping on the table as I waited for options, listening to the clicking of a keyboard on her end. 

“How about 10 AM the day after tomorrow?” 

“I’ll take it,” I said a little too eagerly. The anticipation of seeing Dieter again was starting to get to me. 

“I have it scheduled. In case you do end up staying for additional sessions, we have apartments on site for patient families. So, you won’t have to worry about lodging. We don’t want you stressing about that while you’re here.”

“Oh, that’s…nice. Thanks for letting me know.”

“When you arrive for your session, come in the north entrance with the blue awning and they'll get you checked in. It’s a different entrance than where you would have come in before.”  

I thanked her and our conversation ended soon after that. Afterwards, I sat staring out the kitchen window, feeling the anxiousness settle into my gut. Not knowing what to expect was always the worst for me. It was like that call had started a countdown, to what, I wasn’t sure. I could only hope the end result would be something positive. 

The morning of our session, I had a ridiculously early flight so that I could be there in time. I decided to keep things simple with minimal makeup, a messy bun, sunglasses, sneakers, skinny jeans, and one of Dieter’s button up dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up. I had raided his closet while I was at his house cleaning up. It was something small, but being wrapped in his scent or wearing something that belonged to him brought me some comfort during my time without him. His clothing quickly became a staple in my casual attire. 

I was so anxious about seeing Dieter again that the flight didn’t faze me like it normally would have. Though it was an hour and a half, it seemed much quicker as the minutes continued to count down and the distance between us shortened. I could feel myself getting more worked up the closer I got. By the time I acquired the rental car and was on the road to the facility, my chest was heavy. Breathing was getting harder with each mile that passed. 

When I pulled into the parking lot, I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I sat gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands and taking deep breaths. I wasn’t even sure why I was so nervous, it’s not like I knew what Dieter was planning to talk to me about. However, deep down I had a fear, though most likely irrational, that he was going to realize he didn’t really want to be with me after this. I wasn’t sure if I could handle that a second time if it were to happen. Without permission, the tears started to streak down my cheeks, and I felt like I was going to be sick. 

After a few more deep breaths, I slammed my fist down on the stop of the steering wheel out of frustration, “Fucking hell, get it together Talia.”  

My head dropped back onto the headrest as I squeezed my eyes shut, still taking deep controlled breaths. After several minutes passed, I let out a slow exhale before opening my eyes. Feeling more relaxed, I did a quick check in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like a complete mess before exiting the vehicle to go inside. 

I was starting to have an out of body feeling as I went through the check in process. I couldn’t really remember walking to the building or anything the lady behind the desk had just said to me as I sat down in the lobby to wait. After a few minutes, one of the receptionists called my name and led me through a secure door down a long hallway. We passed several offices that had glass inserts in the doors with shades. Most of the shades were pulled closed, however, I noticed one was open. As I approached, I glanced inside and was met with a familiar figure sitting in a high backed desk chair in the middle of the room with his head leaned back and eyes closed as he spun back and forth, his legs bouncing ever so often. He was sitting on the opposite side of a desk from a woman who was possibly in her fifties, with graying hair and a kind face. Though, she did have a slightly overwhelmed look about her as her eyes met mine through the glass. 

I stopped briefly, watching him wave his hands animatedly as he talked incessantly, never raising his head or opening his eyes. I felt a small smirk sneak across my face. He was nervous too. I could tell. My eyes flicked back to the woman, who was watching me watch him with a soft smile on her face. 

My attention was pulled away by the receptionist, who was now at my side waiting for me to continue following her. 

“He’s been driving us all crazy this morning. I think poor Sharon is getting the worst of it. He’s beyond excited that you’re here today.” 

I chuckled at the thought before continuing down the hallway. I was led into a spacious office. It was modern and white with floor to ceiling windows on one side with nothing in sight but nature. All the furnishings were earth tones of brown and deep reds and oranges. I noticed there were a lot of plants filling the space, which added a homey feeling, in a strange sort of way. It also struck me how there were different seating areas on either side of the room. One had a small couch and cushy chair positioned in front of it, while the other had four cushy chairs sitting closely together in a circle. Each of the seats were adorned with soft looking pillows in various shades matching the space. There was a traditional desk setup in the center of the room with two chairs placed in front of it. Each area felt carefully designed to meet specific needs.   

Moments after entering the room, I was greeted by Dr. Rosenberg who first shook my hand, then pulled me in for a loose hug. 

“Talia, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you the last couple of months.” 

It took me by surprise, though I felt like it shouldn’t have. There was a certain familiarity and kindness that everyone seemed to have toward me. Everyone had been very warm and welcoming thus far. It was comforting to know this was the type of environment that Dieter had been in. 

I gave her a tight lipped smile as she led me over to sit in one of the four chairs in a circle. To my surprise, the chair spun slightly as I sat in it. Dr. Rosenberg turned hers to face me directly, so I did the same with mine. I had managed to stay composed thus far, but my nervousness was starting to show as I reached up and rubbed at my shoulder. The psychiatrist was silent for a moment as she watched my movements. I stopped, sat up straight and placed both hands on top of my crossed legs to keep from fidgeting. 

I’m not sure why, but I felt the need to appear like I had my shit together. I took a minute to study her as she gave me a soft smile while she continued to get settled, grabbing a notepad, file folder, pen, and glasses from the small table next to her seat. She was probably in her early fifties, maybe late forties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and she was dressed in business casual attire. I could tell she wanted to appear professional, but not uninviting. She was also definitely looking at my body language very closely, which was making me feel antsy. My therapist used to do that, and I hated it. I mentally smacked myself over my thoughts. I was already putting up walls and we hadn’t even started talking yet. 

“Well, it’s been an exciting morning around here. Dieter is definitely happy you’re here. He was asked to leave his group session this morning because he couldn't focus. He’s been bugging poor Sharon ever since.” She laughed and smiled affectionately at her words.

She was trying to get me to relax. I knew that I looked too tense. I let out a breathy laugh as I sat back further in the seat, trying to appear less uptight, but I didn't think it was working. She gave me a sympathetic look suddenly, “You’re nervous to see him.” 

It wasn’t a question. Looking down at my hands, I chuckled to myself briefly before clearing my throat to speak, “Yeah, I guess I am. I just…don’t know what to expect.”

“That’s a perfectly normal feeling. It’s not unusual for family members to worry if their loved one is going to be different after treatment. Is that some of what you’re feeling?”

Her question took me by surprise, “Ummm, maybe. Sort of...maybe not so much about him being different…more about him feeling differently.” 

She nodded, “I understand. I can’t say that he won’t be different. His personality may present differently, more calm, less emotional or moody. He will feel differently in that he won’t be cycling from one extreme to the other, emotionally. As far as how he feels ABOUT things, that isn’t going to change just because he’s stabilized. Does that make sense?” 

I gave a tight nod, “Yeah, it does.” It didn’t do anything to ease my anxiety though because I still didn’t know how he really felt about us. She eyed me for a second before continuing.

“So, I’ll fill you in on my plan for today. First, you and I are going to chat about Dieter’s diagnosis. Once we’re done, I’m going to bring him in for the session. After that, you and I will have a follow-up meeting to discuss the path forward. Does that sound ok to you?”   

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I started to chew on my bottom lip while she flipped through the file in her hand.

“Great. Just so you’re aware, Dieter signed release forms for you to have access to his medical and treatment information. Nothing is off the table, so if you have questions, ask. He made it clear to me that he wants you to know everything and wants you involved as much as you want to be.”

I paused briefly, shocked by that information. I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “Ok...I wasn’t expecting that.” 

She smiled before continuing, “Alright, let’s get to it then?” She raised her brows at me, asking permission to proceed. I motioned with my hand to continue.  

“So, he’s been formally diagnosed with mixed episode Bipolar I Disorder (BD). In simple terms, bipolar disorder is when someone experiences extreme behavioral or mood changes. The extreme highs are called manic episodes, and lows are episodes of depression. Most people with BD go through highs and lows over an extended period of time. Someone with mixed episodes, like Dieter has, tend to experience both highs and lows simultaneously or in a rapid sequence with no recovery time.”

She paused, giving me a minute to digest her words. I couldn’t say I was surprised by the diagnosis, it actually made a lot of his behavior make sense. When I didn’t speak up, she continued. 

“I think what happened with Dieter…he was put on a lot of medication. Antidepressants in particular can be very tricky for someone with BD. It can cause an increased risk of mood destabilization when the antidepressants are not taken with a mood stabilizer. He was on pretty much everything but a mood stabilizer. You add that in with not sleeping, not eating, drinking, anxiety, and episode triggers…it’s a recipe for disaster. Sometimes being improperly medicated like that can trigger suicidal ideation and even psychosis. Honestly, he was fighting a losing battle.”

I leaned forward in my seat, placing my elbows on my knees while I rubbed at my face. I felt anger bubbling in my chest. 

“Why didn’t his therapists or doctors catch what was happening?”

“One reason…lack of experience. BD is also incredibly hard to diagnose because it shares symptoms with so many other more common disorders like anxiety, depression, PTSD, and ADHD, which is what he was being treated for. That’s not to say he doesn’t have those things as well, but if he does, we need to take a different treatment approach.” 

I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “Wow, that actually kind of blows my mind.” 

“I know… and I’m surprised that no one thought to look into it, given his family history. It can be hereditary, and BD does have a high suicide rate. Given what happened with his mother, it should’ve been considered. Also, the fact that he experienced trauma in dealing with that incident...trauma often causes the onset of symptoms.” 

I sighed heavily as the tears started to pool in my eyes, “This actually…kind of pisses me off that he had to go through all of this needlessly. He fucking hated taking that stuff because of the way it made him feel.”  

“That brings me to my next topic...It's been hard to get a baseline with him. I feel like a lot of the things he was experiencing were side effects from all the medications he was on. I can’t really rely on his history before he started the medication because he was using recreational and prescription drugs and drinking heavily to self medicate, which could have been making things worse for him during that time as well.” She paused briefly to gauge my reaction, “I assume you knew about his past substance abuse issues?”

“Yeah, he’s mentioned it…What does all that mean?”

“Well, it’s hard to know exactly what his actual symptoms are right now. So, to start, I’m doing the bare minimum. I’ve started him out on a low dose mood stabilizer called divalproex sodium. It’s actually…an anticonvulsant that’s normally used to treat seizures rather than a typical mood stabilizer like lithium.”

I drew my brows down together in confusion, “Why a seizure medication?” 

“That medication increases the amount of a chemical called gamma-aminobutyric acid in the brain. It works to block certain transmissions across the nerves in the brain and creates sort of an overall calming effect. That particular medication often works best for patients that have mixed or rapid cycling episodes. Lithium typically doesn’t get the job done in those instances. He seems to be doing well on it so far. We’ll give it a few more months to make sure everything else is out of his system and reevaluate.”    

“So, he went from taking half the pharmacy…to one thing?” 

“He did. He seems pretty set on limiting the medications as much as possible. He’s been spending a lot of his time doing cognitive behavioral therapy, interpersonal and social rhythm therapy, and psychoeducation to help him manage his symptoms and learn about triggers and that sort of thing. He’s been very invested in it, and it seems to be helping.”

I sighed, starting to feel overwhelmed, “I don’t know what all of that is. I mean, I know cognitive behavioral therapy but…” I shook my head in confusion. 

“No worries, if you decide to continue with the family education sessions you’ll learn about that stuff. I know it’s a lot to take in...”

“Yeah, it is, but I’m happy that he’s hopefully on the right track now.” I took a couple of deep breaths to try and relax some as I continued to process things. 

“One last thing before I bring Dieter in...I know you two were no longer together before his hospitalization and you haven’t really had a chance to work things out. His preference is to stay with you when he leaves treatment. I do want to be able to manage his expectations if that isn’t going to be the case. I don’t want you to feel like you have to allow that if you aren’t ready to take all this on. I want you to know that you can say no.”

I was taken aback at her directness, but also appreciated it. I actually felt like I was warming up to her some and feeling more comfortable with opening up to her. I didn’t hesitate with my response, if anything, I said it with conviction, looking directly into her eyes as I spoke. 

“There’s no question in my mind about him coming home with me so long as he wants to. I’ve known from the start that he was struggling with his mental health, and I promised to support him through it. A new diagnosis doesn’t change anything for me. I’m all in for this.”

Dr. Rosenberg gave me a warm smile, clearly satisfied with my response. “Now I see why he says you can be a force to be reckoned with.”

My eyebrows shot up at her words as she again took me by surprise, “Dieter said that?” I chuckled at the thought as I leaned back in my seat, surprised that was the wording he chose. 

“He’s said a lot of things about you, all positive, of course.” She laughed quietly to herself as she set her glasses on the table. As she stood, she announced she was going to go get him for our joint sessions. 

After Dr. Rosenberg disappeared out the door, I could feel my anxiety returning. My chest was starting to tighten again as my heart beat a mile a minute. Instinctively, my right hand moved to rub at my shoulder. Was he going to be upset about how easily I gave up on us? I didn’t know how he couldn’t be. It didn’t sound like he was planning to end things for good even though that thought kept crossing my mind. It was clearly my pessimism and self-doubt seeping in. The thought of being completely open and vulnerable in this setting was making things worse too. I wasn’t a fan of having an audience, but I needed to get over that and not build up my walls right now. I propped my arm on the rest of the chair and started to rub at my forehead as my leg began to bounce. I couldn’t make myself stop the fidgeting no matter how hard I tried. 

After several minutes passed, Dr. Rosenberg returned with Dieter following behind her. His head was down, clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked. As he approached me, he finally looked my way through his lashes. He gave me a small smile that widened as his eyes dropped down to my shirt, obviously noticing I was wearing one of his. I gave him a shy smile in return. He sat down in the chair directly in front of me as Dr. Rosenberg returned to her earlier spot. 

It was clear he was nervous by the way he couldn’t keep his hands still and how the heel of his croc kept bouncing off the tiled floor. He would only occasionally glance in my direction as we waited for Dr. Rosenberg to get settled again. I took the opportunity to study his appearance. He looked so much better compared to the last time I had seen him. His light gray t-shirt was no longer loose looking around his fit torso. His pale skin had been replaced with a golden tan. His hair was longer and as wild as ever, framing his scruffy and patchy beard. His chocolate brown eyes looked clearer than I had ever seen them and were filled with nervousness and anticipation. 

Once Dr. Rosenberg was ready to start, she filled Dieter in on what she had discussed with me about his diagnosis. She then encouraged him to take the lead going forward and discuss the things he wanted to speak with me about. He rubbed his hands together nervously, briefly chewing on his bottom lip before he met my gaze to speak. 

“So, you’re…ok with that diagnosis?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what he meant and gave him a confused look. “Like, it doesn’t freak you out or anything? I know it’s a lot to deal with.” 

“Dieter, the diagnosis doesn’t change anything. You’re still you. Why would it bother me?”

“I dunno, I’m just afraid that at some point you’re gonna realize how big of a mess I am and run away from it all,” he said sheepishly. 

I chuckled, leaning forward in the seat with a teasing smile, “I realized how big of a mess you were a long time ago.”  He scratched at his chin as a smirk formed on his lips.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen the worst of it and I’m still here. My feelings for you haven’t changed. You don’t have to worry about that from me.”

His eyes turned glassy at my words as he pinched his brows together, looking downward at his hands in his lap. 

“I don’t deserve you, not after the way I treated you…the things I said. I was such an asshole to you.”

I bit at my bottom lip, shaking my head before speaking, “None of that matters to me. I know you weren’t completely yourself when you said those things.”

“No, I wasn’t but I still knew what I was doing and saying. I apparently tend to self-sabotage things. Some of the things I said, using your past against you, I knew it would hurt you. I wanted the words to hurt so you would let me go. I knew you wouldn’t otherwise.”

“Why though? I don’t understand why you felt the need to end things to begin with. Why was I a burden to you?”

His eyes widened at my question, brows shooting upward as he shook his head from side to side, “No, no you weren’t the burden…I was. I’m sorry I made you think that. I know the night I called, I wasn’t making a lot of sense. I…I hadn’t slept in days, and I was such a fucking mess.”

He licked his bottom lip and chewed at it for a second before continuing, “I could see how you were having to completely change everything about your life to accommodate me and my work just for us to be together. I knew it was eventually gonna be a problem and cause you stress because it was affecting your job. I didn’t wanna ruin your life that way. You shouldn’t have to cater your life to mine, it’s not fair. I love you too much to do that to you.”    

“Dieter, it wasn’t always gonna be like that. It just happened to be shitty circumstances caused by the remote location. If we hadn't been in the middle of nowhere, I could’ve worked without issue. We just weren’t prepared for the challenges that came up. This is a learning experience for both of us. We’ll know better for next time so I can plan accordingly…and it wasn’t like you weren’t making changes to meet me halfway.” 

He couldn’t argue with that. He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, nodding in agreement. 

“I know that now, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly…obviously. It all made sense at the time.” He rolled his eyes, frustrated with his behavior. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“It was more than that though, I knew I was spiraling out of control. I could fucking feel it happening and didn’t know how to make it stop. I didn’t wanna tell you what was going on because I didn’t want you to worry. I knew you would drop everything and fly back to Canada to be with me.”

“You’re damn right I would’ve… and I should’ve done that anyway.” I could feel my emotions catching up to me, my eyes filling with tears as I looked down away from him. 

“I fucking knew it…in my gut that something was wrong, and I did nothing. If I had just done it…came up there anyway, this probably would’ve gone differently. I could’ve helped you through it, but no…I was a fucking coward. I gave up because I was selfish and wanted to protect myself. I didn’t even try because I was too afraid that I would end up in a dark place again if you didn’t want me to be there with you.”

The tears were streaking down my cheeks by this point. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I had so much anger for myself that it was making me feel sick. Dieter stood from his seat, closing the few feet between us, then got down on his knees on the floor in front of me. He moved to grab my hands in my lap, but hesitated. I reached up and grabbed his in response.

“I’m sorry I put you in the position to even have to think that. It should’ve never happened. I should’ve been communicating everything with you instead of pushing you away. This whole fucking mess is my fault…I wanted to reach out so many times after that… to try and fix it, but you seemed like you were doing ok so I didn’t want to upset you again.”

The tears were streaming down his face now as he took a minute to try and compose himself. 

“I thought I could move on and just deal with things the way I used to…by numbing the pain. That’s when I started drinking heavily again. Then I saw you at the restaurant, and you looked so fucking amazing…and I was such a dick. I was so angry with myself for that. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had everything and fucked it up. My behavior after that night was reckless. There are days I can’t even remember because I was drinking so much. I just wanted to not think about it anymore.”

He pulled his hands away, looking down at the floor before wiping at his face. When he raised his head again, the pain in his eyes nearly made my heart stop. I reached out to cup his cheek, but he leaned away, seeming to need space.  

“The night that video of you was posted online…several people sent it to me. I didn’t watch it at first because I didn’t think it would mean anything…but when I finally did…”

He put his hand over his mouth, letting out a quiet sob, before continuing. 

“I could see how bad you were hurting…how bad I hurt you. What I did to you…I hated myself for it because you didn’t deserve that. It also reminded me of what I was missing out on because of how beautiful you sounded and looked…and that fucking song.” 

He paused for a minute, shaking his head. He sniffled and wiped at his face again before continuing.  

“I stayed up all night, watching it on a loop on the tv. I almost called you then, but stopped myself. I drank until I had nothing left instead. Then, when I ran into you the next morning, I could see how fucking broken you were. The way you looked at me…it fucking crushed me. I bought more alcohol and went back to the house. I don’t really remember much after that.”

He shook his head for a moment, pausing to take a few deep breaths, wiping at his face again. 

“I don’t even remember calling you…and…even after everything I did, you still came to me. You could’ve easily told me to fuck off and I would’ve deserved it, but you didn’t. I know I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t. You saved my life…I feel like you’ve been doing that ever since New York. When I say you’re my light in the darkness, I fucking mean it.”

I started sobbing into my hands. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hands around his neck as he moved to hug me. We sat there in an embrace for some time before I started mumbling into his shoulder. 

“I was so afraid you were gonna hate me for giving up on you so easily. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. Just know that it had nothing to do with you…I clearly still need to work on my own shit.”

He hugged me a little tighter as he buried his fingers in the back of my hair, “That thought never crossed my mind. Don’t even worry about it anymore.”  

He finally pulled back, wiping the tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs as he did so. We gave each other tight smiles as we locked eyes. He turned away, toward Dr. Rosenberg, who I had completely forgotten was in the room, and asked for some tissues. She picked up the box from her small table and handed it to him as he stood. He handed me several and took some for himself before handing the box back to her. She motioned for him to have a seat. As she turned to set the box back on the table, I noticed she was looking a little glassy eyed too. 

We all sat in silence as her eyes shifted between us. Dieter and I glanced at each other, confusion on our faces as we looked back toward her. She chuckled before she spoke.

“I’m not even sure why I’m here. This is literally the first family session ever where I didn’t have to intervene or lead a conversation. You two don’t seem to have any problems communicating, so I’m not sure how you ended up where you were.” 

We both smiled widely at her, surprised and appreciative of her honesty. Dieter spoke up with a chuckle.  

“I think between my fucked up brain and the distance…it didn’t do us any favors. We’re always at our best when we’re physically together, I think. Everything goes to hell when we aren’t. Clearly that is something I need to work on.”

Dr. Rosenberg nodded in agreement, “Well, I hate to separate you two again, but we are running short on time, and I want to have a chat with Talia about the plans going forward. Dieter, I’m pretty sure you have another group session coming up so you better head that way. You think you can focus enough for this one?” 

She raised an eyebrow in his direction as he laughed and nodded. He stood, quickly shuffling over to lean down and give me a hug before exiting the room.  

Dr. Rosenberg wasted no time getting back to business, “Talia, part of his treatment is making sure he has the support he needs when he gets home. That’s why we offer support to caretakers as well, because technically, you will be his caretaker as the only other person in the household with him.”

I knitted my brows together, confused about where this conversation was going. 

“I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know you have a traumatic history because Dieter has mentioned a few things. I don’t know the details, and I get the sense he doesn’t know it all either. I feel like whatever happened with your ex-husband is still affecting you. Is the dark place you mentioned something that you would be willing to talk to me about? Anything you tell me about yourself is confidential, just so you know.”

I sighed heavily as I ran both hands over my face, “So you picked up on that, huh?” I laughed nervously under her gaze. 

“You’re right, I haven’t told him everything. I keep telling myself I’ve moved past it, but after the last few months, I’ve realized that I just locked it away and pretended it didn’t exist. I tend to do that with a lot of things.” She gave me an encouraging smile, clearly picking up on my hesitation as I paused to gather my thoughts. 

“So, the last few years of my marriage, I started drinking heavily after finding no way out of the hell I was living in. The constant mental and psychological abuse was wearing me down, especially after I realized what was happening. When I tried to talk to Justin about a divorce, he would just tell me there was no way out because he wasn’t ready to give me up.” I paused briefly… focusing on something outside through the window. “I uhh, came home early from work one day and found him with another woman that he worked with. He of course said it was my fault, because I wasn’t giving him what he needed in the marriage. I knew what he was doing…and I was determined not to let it go because I felt I had a legitimate reason to end things at that point. I TOLD him I was leaving. I was done asking. When I started packing a bag, he hit me. The first time ever. I mean, he had shoved me around some, but never hit me across the face like that. He told me there was no leaving… that he would just find me and bring me home. Said no one would believe me or help because all of OUR friends knew how I was.”

“Talia, what did saying that out loud just now make you feel?”  

My eyes drifted over to meet hers, “I don’t really feel anything.” 

She arched a brow, “That’s because you're dissociating. I want you to focus on me as you speak and feel what you’re saying.”  

Fuck. She wasn’t going to let me cheat my way through this like my therapist did. I pinched my brows together as my eyes teared up again. I had to face this. I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling slowly. When I opened them and met her gaze, she nodded for me to continue. 

“He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t really have anyone to turn to. He made sure of that. He left after our argument, said he was going out with the guys. I doubt that’s where he went though. As soon as he left, I started drinking. I remember…feeling lost and pretty fucking hopeless after that. I couldn’t believe he hit me, and I was scared it would happen again. I never saw myself as someone who lets their husband abuse them…I felt disgusted over it. I must have drank a lot…because I can’t remember the rest of that night. I - I woke up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. I guess when he came home, he found me passed out in my own vomit.”

I started tapping on the arm of the chair as the tightness in my chest returned. The tears trickled out again. 

“When Justin finally came to see me, I told him that I was done. If he didn’t let me go, I was gonna find a way out…one way or another and I would make sure everyone knew it was his fault. Given that I had just put myself in the hospital, he took me at my word and agreed on a divorce. I guess he was afraid of what I would do.”

“What did you mean by that?”

I gave a half smile, “I honestly don’t know. I wonder that myself…what I was capable of. If I could’ve done anything.”

“What happened after you both agreed to the divorce?”

“Well, when I was still in the hospital, I reached out to one of my best friends that I grew up with, Lauren. We had kept in touch, even though I actively worked to put up a wall between us so she wouldn’t know what was really going on in my life because I was so embarrassed over it. She didn’t hesitate…she was at the hospital within the hour, and I told her everything. I stayed with her for a few weeks until I got my life sorted out. I don’t think I would have been able to do it without her. Of course, Justin continued to torment me by dragging out the divorce for over a year. It got pretty nasty.”

“What effects do you feel like that experience had on you?” She asked quietly. 

“Experience.” I chuckled. “I didn’t realize twelve years of hell could be considered an experience.” 

She gave me a sympathetic look before I continued, “I mean, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I was. I was who he wanted me to be. After I left him, he was still in my head with everything I did. What I was wearing, how I fixed my hair and makeup, things I said. I couldn’t do some of the simplest things without hearing his voice telling me I was doing something wrong and having a fucking panic attack over it. I couldn’t make decisions…and yes, I would still drink to numb my feelings and calm myself down. Only this time, I knew exactly how much I could drink without taking it too far.”

“Are those things still an issue for you now?”    

I shook my head, “No, I mean, I did all the cognitive behavioral therapy and the sessions. I eventually got to a point where the negative thoughts stopped. I think Dieter had a lot to do with that…he kind of helped me see myself in a different light…but I do still have anxiety sometimes and I think I’ve reverted back to ignoring my feelings… compartmentalizing everything and pretending it’s not there. Throwing myself into work and staying busy to keep my mind occupied. I’ve been doing that instead of drinking the feelings away.” 

Dr. Rosenberg leaned forward, placing her elbow on her knee with a pensive look on her face.   

“Talia…would you be willing to stay for the next three weeks to work through some of this with me? It would be outpatient treatment…a couple hours a day. You can stay in one of our apartments.” 

I sucked in a quick breath. I certainly wasn’t expecting this, but at the same time, I almost felt relieved. My gut told me I needed it and I knew I couldn’t go on the way I had been because I was eventually going to self-destruct if I didn’t take better care of myself. I knew I couldn’t fully be there for Dieter if I was still battling with myself. I sat staring at my hands as I thought through the offer. I could still work remotely, so that wouldn’t be an issue. I raised my head to meet her eyes, “Will Dieter know what I’m doing?”   

“Only if you want him to.”

“I don’t want to saddle him with my shit right now…I don’t wanna mess him up.” 

“Honestly, I think he’s stable at this point. I think he could handle whatever you wanted to share with him. If you wanted, we could even do some more joint sessions, or he can just be there for support if you want him to be. It’s all up to you really.”

“What would you do?” I asked, letting out a stuttered breath with my question. She took a minute to consider her response, biting on the inside of her cheek as she did so.   

“I don’t think it would be bad if you shared everything with him. The more open you are with one another, the better. Communication is going to be a huge factor in keeping your relationship healthy and happy. At least if he knows what’s going on he can support you, just like you support him. Also, if he needs help processing through things, we can help him with that while he’s here…but again, it’s your decision.” 

“Yeah, I mean he knows most of it anyway…Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll stay and I want him involved.”

She gave me a bright smile, “I’m actually really happy to hear that. I think this will allow you to build a solid foundation going forward. I’m excited for your future together. I can tell that you both care deeply for each other and I really want your time here to be successful.” 

I gave her thanks for the opportunity she was giving me. I’ve known for a while that I had things that I needed to work on but didn't really know where to start. The fact that Dieter seemed so at ease with her and was doing so well gave me some comfort and the courage to jump in head first. 

The next three weeks were a whirlwind of educational sessions to help me learn about bipolar disorder; the triggers, coping strategies, and lifestyle changes to minimize stress. I even had an opportunity to learn more about Dieter’s medication and possible interactions and side effects so I would be able to spot them. He had asked that I be involved with his Interpersonal and Social Rhythm therapy, which was designed to help him build a daily routine of healthy habits to manage his moods. Given his job, sometimes a routine was almost impossible for him to keep, but we learned strategies to deal with that when confronted with it. It was all very helpful for the both of us.

I had my sessions too of course. He sometimes set in on them if we were doing something particularly hard that day. His presence helped keep me grounded and got me through a lot. He was taking time to learn about ways to help me cope better and we worked together on effective communication skills. 

Dr. Rosenberg recommended that I start keeping a journal to help me work through my emotions. I was iffy about it at first, but Dieter was also doing it and he loved it. He was very encouraging about it. It was something that I had come to enjoy doing after a few days. We had even taken to having a shared journal between us to better communicate our feelings, which Dr. Rosenberg loved the idea of and encouraged. 

Even though Dieter and I weren’t able to spend a whole lot of time together during those three weeks, I could always feel his presence and support. It’s what kept me going through it all. I don’t think I would have had the strength to do it without him. By the time my last day of treatment came around, he was given the all clear for discharge. It was both nerve wracking and exciting to know that we would be going home…together.

A/N: How excited are we that these two are finally back together? How badly did this chapter hit the feels? Did you cry? If you did, hopefully this will be the last time...unless you are a happy crier. There may be happy tears later. 😉 How are we feeling about Dieter's diagnosis? Does it change how you view some of his past behavior? What about that revelation from Talia? I mean, are we really surprised though; the girl has had a complicated relationship with alcohol throughout the whole story. How do you think things are going to go when they get back home? Do you think they will pick up where they left off or have some growing pains? We will find out in the next chapter. 😁 I am 100% failing at life and did not get the Deconstructing Dieter Bravo post done. I need to do a little fact checking and didn't have the brain power for it. However, once I get that ready, it will be posted HERE. The topic for Deconstructing Dieter Bravo Part 3 will be his diagnosis. I will tag all the usuals in the posts once it is ready. Hopefully you will find it to be educational. 💜 👉 I do want to share some details on upcoming projects that will be released for the holidays. I am participating in the @pedrostories Secret Santa event. I have received my gift prompt, and you may be excited to know that you will be getting a Dieter Bravo one shot from me by Christmas. I already have some ideas swirling around for it and it's not related to any current fics. It should be fun. Be sure to follow the #pedrostoriesgift23 hashtag to check out all the awesome work that will be included for the event. 👉 I will also be participating in the Pickled Peña event for the new year. I am going to try my hand at writing a little Javi P. for you. Follow @pickled-pena for updates and the hashtag #pickledpeña to see all madness (and I'm sure debauchery) that comes from this fun challenge. I also invite you all to join us! There is still time! It's going to be a blast! If you would like to be tagged on either of these one shots, let me know in the comments. 💜 As usual, I have included the chapter mood board below in case you missed it.😘

Next Chapter

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Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Fanfic #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #Destiny & Deliverance Series #friends of juice collective

[alostlittleriverlotus]

seeing an anti-narcissist post talking about how narcissists will believe they're good people and never realize the harm they're doing.

It is really amazing how anti-narcissist folks fit their own definition of narcissism.

Because when we even try to calmly explain, no accusatory language, to them why they are harming victims of abuse as well and why they are dehumanizing a group of people, they will instantly use their trauma and abuse as a reason for why they aren't wrong and believe they are standing up for victims of abuse.

Narcissists are victims of abuse too. My abusive mom is, I am. Like. You're demonizing a group of abuse victims as if it'll help you heal at all by acting like the narcissist is evil and self loathing. Regardless of whether your abuser has NPD or not doesn't matter. My mom's autism adds to her mistreatment of me. She takes things at face value and will neglect me even when I flat out tell her. It's not a trait of autistic abuse. Disorders do affect treatment of people, duh, because it affects their world view and how they perceived things. Like, how someone depressed may have their self image warped as well as their view of people around em. But that does not make it "disorder abuse." The disorder didn't abuse you, people with the disorder aren't more likely to be abusive or have their symptoms/traits affect others. You have a warped view because of trauma too. And people may use their disorders as a scapegoat (my ex used his depression a lot for his mistreatment of me and even blamed me for his depression), but it doesn't make it disorder abuse. It doesn't mean every person with the disorder is evil. And if you're someone who can "separate a narcissist from someone with NPD cause they are different" you fail to see how the correlation still harms people with NPD. That's why we ask you to use different terms.

We can't find solace in trauma and mental health spaces because of this anti-narcissist rhetoric and belief. That narcissists are bad and abusive and will always hurt you and can't love. Trauma victims with NPD can't even be welcomed in most trauma victim spaces because of this. People with NPD cannot look up help for their disorder without being bombarded with how to cope with the toxic narcissist. Just think about it for more than 5 seconds and try to empathize with us (since anti-narcs love using empathy, here you go.)

Empathize with us. Show us compassion. You ARE hurting victims. You're throwing trauma victims under a bus as a scapegoat and an outlet for you cause of your abuser hurting you. It IS a you problem. We are asking that you listen to us and learn and actually show us compassion and treat us like people. Honestly.

And don't even try to say "well you're a narcissist, of course you'd say that." That is literally ignoring what we say because of a bias you have with the disorder. I am saying this cause I shouldn't have to be wary of mental health spaces, I shouldn't have to go on Tumblr and find the NPD community to help me through narc crashes. I was having a narc crash and tried to find help on Google, all it did was make me suicidal instead of wanting to self harm. I could have died! And I have seen stories of other people with NPD killing themselves because of the stigma! This is a fucking real issue and me being a narcissist and affected by this ableism does not discredit what I say. Just please listen!

But if you're unwilling to, just block me. Because if you aren't willing to listen and learn and try to understand then don't even bother interacting with me, even negatively. I won't waste my time on people refusing to listen.

#narcissist #narcissistic #narcissism #surviving narcissism #narcissistic abuse #narcissistic personality disorder #narcissist stigma #narc #actually narcissistic #npd #npd stigma #npd abuse #npd positivity #actually npd #narcissist positivity #npd safe #cluster b #ableism #fuck ableism #fuck ableists #trauma #abuse #narcissistic trauma #narcissistic abuse isn't real

[sprout-fics]

Hi folks

So I'm posting this because I've gotten several more comments here and on AO3 asking about update schedules. I unfortunately have bad news in this regard.

As a reminder, as it says in my FAQ, I am a full time grad student. This means any time I have to myself can easily be taken up with 3 more tasks of research, job hunting, assignments, or other academia related tasks. I also live on my own and need to take care of myself by eating regular meals, exercising, dealing with recurring chronic health issues on my own, and remembering sometimes what it means to have a mental break.

Fic is my safe place. It is my outlet. However I also struggle with it being an obligation as well. I am trying so so hard to not let months lap between fic updates for series. It honestly makes me upset that I haven't updated Omegaverse, Little Mouse, Woodsmoke, Shadows and Bones, Tag You're It, and The Stowaway for god knows how long. If I think about it too hard I honestly get really frustrated and upset with myself.

This is not helped that whatever time I do have for writing amidst my packed schedule is being stolen by an increasing demand of schoolwork as I get closer to midterms and finals. Plus I need to be employed by the time I graduate, so I need to pick up the pace there too.

I know people are excited for updates, and I truly wish I could give them to you. Right now my studies and my self care always come first, and it means that updates are likely to become less frequent as I try to handle everything I've described. Please know I'm trying my absolute best, and that no fic will be abandoned without an announcement from me. So unless you see discontinued or something similar, there will be an update, just please be patient with me.

I'm trying my hardest. I really really am. I'm sorry I'm not updating sooner. Please just be patient, that's all I ask. Thank you ❤️

#fic update #faq #small psa

[agendabymooner]

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (2)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: It's 2014. Tilly fills up the position temporarily as Red Bull's Communication Liaison and meets the man she spoke to all those years ago in Dubai... only for her to realize that he's her best friend's Team Principal. Lewis Hamilton is more than amused with her situation, if anything.

Content warning: Age gap, mentions of an absence of a father figure, brief use of explicit language, mentions of nepotism, discussion of mental health and burnouts. Platonic!Lewis Hamilton content, Platonic!Daniel Ricciardo content. Fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). One character is fictional but came from a family (Ford family). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY

Note: This is actually my demon time. I took a break from posting too much Danny Ric even if I love him sm (this fic needs attention a little bit). Should I make him go feral and chaotic again? I dunno. But anyways, here's for the Toto stans. Please tell me what you think in many ways - reblog and reply even! Enjoy xx

ii. tilly marie wants to go to hell

Tilly Marie. 

That is the name that hides everything that relates to my life and purpose. Truthfully, everyone knows who I am, but I act like a stranger to everyone who works in the location during the races. Everyone has heard of my name but never really knew what I look like. Of course, they would know who I am. I’m sharing my surname with the man who partially owned three teams— all through his shares. 

Julius Hearth is a billionaire who invested much more in motorsport than he should have in his racing career. Instead of becoming a professional driver, he remains a billionaire, relatively close to creating a monopoly in the racing industry. 

A greedy man, they call him. He dislikes the idea of being unable to control his businesses. He could have sold his shares before, yet he keeps a tight grip over each of his holdings and keeps his position in each team as an executive. He’s not even the one at the race right now. He has his daughter act on his behalf and play his part in keeping his teams popular. 

The surname Hearth is practically engraved in each team’s zones. I hate it. Wherever I go, even if I hadn’t attended a grand prix for a while now, eyes would settle on me. Everyone knows my name. I hate it. It should have been Ford instead, maybe I would have allowed it.

And so I stuck with Tilly Marie. Tilly Hearth catches the eyes of everyone in the racing industry. Tilly Marie is just a woman with access to three zones and additional pit access from her friend. Tilly Hearth is for business— for handling problems and solutions in media outlets and communications.

Now that I think of it, I remember considering quitting my job before I was even told to attend the British GP. Have you ever been so exhausted from doing what you love? Or is that something not really something you desire?

I enjoy writing fashion and design articles for everyone’s entertainment. But to be told you’ll be given a better angle on the following magazine issues and still drooling after that promise? Now that’s just an embarrassment. 

Everyone I’m close to knows how badly I am treated at the company. Their sympathy came with advice to leave the company. Yet, despite the gratitude that I felt, I refuse to resign. I have faith in my career. They’ll give me a better angle soon enough. Or not.

One of the many people who told me to quit is here standing behind the gate. His tightly braided hair is covered with a branded cap. His chest is covered in a white polo. He stands there with a cheeky grin as he holds his arms out. Lewis Hamilton never failed to make me smile.

He engulfs me with a tight embrace and lifts me slightly in joy. We have not even exchanged words yet, but I am already smiling widely. 

“Oh, Tilly, I thought you wouldn't come!” Lewis exclaims once that he puts me down. I straighten my slightly wrinkled skirt and look at him with a questioning frown. “You’re going to watch me win in person this time!” 

“You act like I don’t see you almost every month,” I scoff, shaking my head at his pout.

“You haven’t attended any of my races for almost six years,” he points out, referring to his championship when he was in McLaren. That’s how we met. My father was bored and had decided to buy a part of McLaren, Lewis’ first team. I hung around him more often during the past few seasons while I consulted with my father’s other teams - Scuderia Ferrari and Red Bull. Lewis values our friendship more than his team, as we remained friends after he departed from McLaren. 

I was going to protest and defend myself, but he cut me off before I could even talk. “You were working hard at Vogue, I know,” he rolls his eyes before he wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer as we walk down the Mercedes zone. He still has an assistant with him, and she’s nice enough to ensure that Lewis isn’t doing something stupid like getting our photos taken by paps while his arm is around me. I can see the headlines we’ll make if they see me.

Tilly Hearth’s Comeback Spiced Up by Forbidden Romance as She Snuggles with Mercedes Driver

The Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous: Lewis Hamilton Seen Cozying Up with the Hearth Group Heiress

He continues, “I love you. You know that, right?” 

I nod as he playfully scolds me, “Then why aren’t you listening to me? To your three sisters, even? You’re writing a smaller piece in a magazine for how long? Six years? Why don’t you quit and find a better opportunity?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” I frown, slightly shoving him away while his arm remains wrapped around me. I try kicking him in the leg, but he quickly avoids my attack as he laughs. People that walked past scowl at us. “I knew I should’ve stayed on the Red Bull pit.” 

“In my year of winning? At the British GP?” He scoffs haughtily. “You wound me, Tilly Marie.”

“And while I’m against the idea of staying in your paddock, I’m glad we can agree on calling me by that name so I'm staying because I love you that much,” I grin, kissing him on the cheek as we arrive at the Mercedes hospitality. 

Indeed, I haven’t attended a race for a while now. Putting more time into my job would give me a way to a promotion or an opportunity to publish a meaningful piece in the magazine. But as years go on, I’m slowly backing away from that optimism. So being in this event… yeah, I think I’ll choose this lifestyle once more over that god-awful thing I call a career. 

Still, why haven’t I quit yet? I have little faith in them. I might as well resign. But this advice came from other people. It didn’t come from me. They cannot change my mind, and I wish I’m not this stubborn and stupid. I wish Lewis would bang my head against the wall to get me to quit. 

I know that I have more options if I quit. But even then, I know my options will come straight from my surname and father. Nepotism follows me wherever I go; even if it’s inevitable, I try to control the fire before it spreads. I know that using my name will not help me learn more. 

Even Lewis knows how much it’ll affect my career in a different industry. One that isn’t racing. It’s bad enough that everyone knows me by name, but to use it proudly? Yeah no. Lewis keeps me humbled by calling me Tilly Marie. I love him because of that. 

All of those thoughts have left me alone when I hear a voice ring out behind the two of us. One that calls for Lewis, which has my friend turning around. Out of curiosity and instinct, I immediately turned around to see who called for him. 

Would it be a shame to admit that the man you met eight years ago looked as handsome as before? No. Maybe not. 

My eyes respectfully move from his attractive face down to the polo that he’s wearing. Slight chest hair peeking out from the unbuttoned collars as my eyes finally look at the title on his chest. 

Team Principal

Mercedes AMG Petronas

While it’s not something to be ashamed of, admitting that the older man is attractive will cause bloodshed. One that would begin with Lewis. 

I must admit the man in front of me makes me nervous now that I have grown older. My legs will turn jelly if I hear his accent again. 

“Ah, you have a guest,” the older man smiles at me almost charmingly. 

My legs didn’t turn into jelly. But I wish I had gone to hell earlier than expected because of the heat I can feel on my face. All because of this man. 

Lewis doesn’t catch the reddening of my cheeks. Instead, he nudges me with a grin, saying, “Of course I have. You know how I want people to watch me win.”

“I like that confidence,” the man chuckles, probably still staring at me while my eyes remain on the floor. 

Lewis nudges me again, leaving me to clutch the strap of the bag that nearly fell off my shoulder. I glare at him, and he doesn’t see it as he introduces me, “Tils! This is Toto Wolff. He’s the Mercedes team principal. Toto, this is Tilly Marie. She’s a friend.” 

I can’t longer avoid his eyes as I look up at his dark eyes. I have forgotten how to speak briefly before I clear my throat and greet the man, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Wolff.” 

His stare isn’t intimidating. That’s what I think, but my body says otherwise. Suddenly, the hospitality feels 30 degrees celsius hotter because of his look. 

But he doesn’t say anything about my obvious situation, and with Lewis not saying anything, I assume he doesn’t notice. The team principal then extends his hand in my direction as his accent leaves a tingling sensation in my ears with the words, “It’s lovely to meet you. Miss…?” 

Oh um. Shit. 

Suddenly the roller coaster in my stomach fades as I stammer, “Hearth. Tilly. Tilly Marie.” I immediately reach for his hand to shake as I shudder slightly. God, those hands are cold. I still shake his hand like a fan excited to meet her idol. Lewis, god loves him, has immediately put a stop to it by putting an arm on my side. 

Not realizing I'm still holding his hand, I immediately pull away and offer Toto a sheepish smile and apology. I’m 28, turning 29. I’m not 18. I’m still acting like a child. 

But my internal dialogue is interrupted by a hum coming out from Toto. He watches me move in one place, assumingely unable to reply for a moment. He's thinking of something and it's unnerving.

The silence doesn’t last long as he finally asks, “Are you Julius Hearth’s relative, by any chance? You look a bit like him.” 

I immediately answer, my voice slightly cracking, saying, “Yes. Yes. I’m the eldest daughter.” 

Knowing my family history, Lewis winces at the title I used to describe myself. Even he knows that this is a sore spot for me.

“Ah,” Toto hums in understanding, nodding at the response while he looks around. It seems our surroundings don't interest him, all while people around us are beginning to whisper at the drop of my name and relationship with a prominent figure in the racing business. 

Nevertheless, he ignores the whispering and instead tells me, “It’s surprising to see you here, Miss Hearth—“ 

“Just call me Tilly,” I immediately interrupted him with the insistence of a worried person. “Tilly works just fine.” 

He doesn’t blink at it, even if I can tell he has a question or so at my insistence. He continues regardless, “Well, Tilly, it’s surprising to see you here, in a rival team’s hospitality.” 

I only laugh at that. I laugh at him like he’s an idiot. Or the other way around. He’s calling me an imbecile in his head now, I tell myself as I watch his brows wrinkle slightly.

I tell him, “I’m here as a friend of your driver, Mr. Wolff. And I can hardly be biased about teams seeing as Julius purchased some shares from almost each. There are no playing favourites in my book.” 

“Is that right?” He asks with amusement in his voice. 

“I like to play fair,” I shrug and offer him a grin, “besides, I’m not as good at interpreting races as he is. I’m only here to keep their head checked before they can lash out in front of the cameras.” 

He likes that response even though I mentioned I have limited motorsport knowledge. He chuckles again, nodding in my direction and at Lewis, who I have almost forgotten is with me. 

He doesn’t say anything to me anymore and tells Lewis, “Remember your interview.” 

“Yes, sir,” Lewis nods at him. 

Toto looks at me again and suggests, “Miss Tilly, you should be in our zone more often.” 

For once, my face hasn’t flushed. I offer him a grateful smile and joke, “It’s a bad idea to give me such a privilege. I suppose you’ll see more of me then, Mr. Wolff.” 

“Call me Toto, liebling,” Toto tells me with a wink, “besides, I won’t complain if I see you here— I might as well snatch you up from Red Bull and McLaren, hm? Or is Ferrari also a competition I have to fight for?” 

He turns around and leaves the premise, walking away from us with a big smile while Lewis and I remain silent. 

There’s a scoff that leaves Lewis’ mouth. I watch him shake his head and ask, “What? Did I do something?” 

“No, no, love,” Lewis answers, chuckling in disbelief as he says, “I can’t believe I just watched my boss hit on my best friend.” 

“Who says you’re my best friend? Sylv, Steve and Aims are my best friends,” I scoff. 

“Stevie, Sylvie and Aimee are your sisters, love. There’s a big difference–whatever, you were just flirting with my boss!” He exclaims, making other people look at us at the abrupt loudness.

I wish I had gone to hell earlier.

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one smau #formula one x oc #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #mercedes amg imagine #mercedes imagine #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smau #daniel ricciardo x ofc

[legoflowrs]

HEADCANNONS

c/w: drinking, drugs, addiction, abuse, slight nsfw

AGED UP TO 18 MY PEOPLE!!!!

A/N: ok so in the headcannons he’s with Stan cause Style is very dear to my heart but in the relationship headcannons he’s with reader xx

Kyle Broflovski

- Massive fucking NERD!! (pls i love nerds).

- Got straight A’s throughout high school.

- Was on the honour roll and was on student council.

- Firm believer in basketball Kyle supremacy.

- Came out as Demisexual and Bisexual (male leaning).

- Stopped being super strict on Kosher throughout high school but kept that a secret from Sheila.

- Never stopped being insecure about his nose. Literally at one point started saving for a nose job till Stan talked him out of it.

- Drinks almond milk.

- Thinks thrifting is gross cause he’s a germaphobe. Washes his hands like 50 times a day.

- When I hear the song Basic Instinct it reminds me of Kyle.

- The Smiths > The Cure.

- Style: Stan fell first, Kyle fell harder (bro i love these dweebs lol).

- Was legit so in denial about being in love with Stan for the longest time.

- His Dad pushed him to study law but he ended up studying psychology to become a child psychologist because he saw the effects of unchecked mental health in children while he grew up.

- Got really drunk once and Kenny pierced his septum. He has it flipped up most of the time.

- Hates glasses so wears contacts.

- Such a fkn mummas boy lol it honestly was a problem at one point.

- Didn’t do his own laundry till he moved out. Did not know how to put sheets on a bed 👍

- Such a good relationship with Ike, he would die for his little brother.

- Did someone say abandonment issues!!!! Could not keep a partner to save his life during high school.

- Smoked weed with Kenny twice and then freaked out after he greened out.

- Got addicted to nicotine during college and used it as an outlet because he put so much pressure on himself to be perfect. Spoke to his doctor and he’s trying to quit.

- Defs listens to Phoebe Bridgers because he has a strange relationship with his dad.

- His dad pushed him to be perfect all the time until Kyle had a massive breakdown in junior year that burnt him out for a long time.

- A family man!!! Wants kids pretty early on into his life.

- A god at poker.

- Hates taking photos of himself.

- Still pretty insecure about his hair but Kenny and Stan helped himself to accept it and even start taking good care of it.

- Really struggled with anger issues.

- Stopped speaking to Cartman completely.

- Forest green is his favourite colour.

- Writes poems and makes people cry with how nice his birthday card messages are.

- First out his friends to get a license. His parents paid for his car.

- Such a damn backseat driver.

- Didn’t really work until he moved out.

- I think he’d help Heidi out at the community gardens.

- After Heidi finally ended things with Cartman, her and Kyle became really close friends.

- Had a friendly academic rivalry with Wendy through high school.

- Him and Wendy study together in college often.

- Has a record player.

- Grew closer to Craig’s gang in senior year of high school. Goes record shopping with Tolkien.

- Very accident prone.

- Has diabetes.

- Loves picnics and simple activities like stargazing.

- Smells like pine needles and the ocean.

- Actually a fantastic swimmer.

- Did drama in sophomore year.

- A massive library in his house. Had to instil a book ban on himself because he was spending all his money on it.

- Really nice eyelashes.

- Comes home to celebrate Hanukkah with his family every year.

- Did long distance with Stan during college. They almost broke up a few times but pulled through.

- Enjoys taking pictures of nature.

- Takes Ike to the movies very often.

- Has the nicest knitted sweaters.

- His guilty pleasure is Taylor Swift.

- HE IS SO MIRRORBALL CODED.

- When he’s in a good mood he loves baking and often bakes for his friends.

- Kenny, Kyle and Stan do day trips together super often. In my world these three never grew apart they are inseparable 🤞🤞

Kyle in a relationship

- An absolute gentleman. Refuses to let you get out of his car without him opening the door for you. Holds doors and pulls out seats. Always gives you his jacket.

- Was very insecure about his sexual inexperience. But y’all guided each other through it. I think there’s something so sweet and special about that.

- Touch tank by quinnie is all I have to say 😼.

- Loves kissing your neck and ears. He kisses your knuckles as well it’s very tender.

- Combusts when he sees you getting along with his family. Especially his Mum and Ike.

- Let’s you touch his hair, it relaxes him a lot.

- Opens up to you about his struggle with his Dad and nicotine. You are his biggest supporter through it all.

- Even though he hates photos, he’ll have a polaroid of y’all in his phone and wallet. Plus a photo booth strip in his car.

- Y’all will bake at midnight together.

- You go on fancy dinner dates together and rate the restaurants in the car together.

- Avid Letterboxed users lol! Give each other show and movie recommendations all the time.

- Kyle always had trouble sleeping but there was something very comforting about your presence so he’ll spend a lot of time at your dorm.

- Writes poems for you.

- Brings you flowers every time the old bouquet dies (ugh what a man).

- BUYS YOU LEGO FLOWERS!!!

- His love languages are gift giving and quality time.

- Keeps a list of all the dates you’ve been on.

- Will take such good photos of you fr! Your biggest hype man.

- I think his short temper would be a problem for you guys but he loves you so much he works on it so hard.

- Your praise means the absolute world to him.

- You guys always go to carnival together and share a caramel apple, it’s like tradition now.

- Couples costume for halloween always.

- Asks for your Dads/Mums/Guardians blessing before he proposes to you.

- Loves the smell of your perfume/cologne. Like it’s seriously intoxicating.

- Proposes to you with his Grandmas ring.

a/n: guys i love kyle so much i’m gonna make his mood board now <3

also if any of these are ooc in ur opinion it’s just for funsies and my opinion hehe

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski headcannons #south park headcannons #my boy love him

[ayeforscotland]

Could you please do a quick sum-up of what's going on with Sturgeon stepping down and where the party and Scotland are/might be heading? I avoid news outlets for the sake of my mental health, but now I'm wondering how worried I need to be given that the woman I've seen being discussed seems very right-wing. Do you think we'll end up with a Tory in yellow? I'm really frightened of that/the way the world in general is going, so a rational answer from yourself would be grand.

Sure - so after 8 years of governance, Nicola Sturgeon has resigned as First Minister. I’m not going to speculate too much on the reason because it’s not super clear.

Now, personally, I think Nicola Sturgeon has messed up a bit here, as it looks like there was little no proper planning for a successor. Nobody has really been groomed for a leadership role.

So there was a lot of hesitancy from SNP MSPs to put their names forward. We’ve ended up with Humza Yousaf, Kate Forbes, and Ash Regan.

This is where the SNP went wrong in my mind, there’s lots of good talent on the progressive side but instead of putting themselves forward, they rallied around Humza. This isn’t because I think Humza is particularly bad, but having more progressives would have helped dilute the voices of the other two.

Kate Forbes is appealing more broadly to the right of the party. Typical lines like ‘being a safe pair of hands’ with finances - the issue is that it lends itself to a lot of Tory ‘we must tighten the belt’ type policies.

She’s also anti-LGBT, anti-abortion and, baffling in 2023, anti-sex before marriage. I believe over half of Scottish kids are born out of wedlock so I don’t quite know who she’s appealing to. That being said she’s won over the ‘She just speaks her mind’ crowd which has been a right-wing excuse for decades if not centuries.

Ash Regan looks to be appealing to the hardcore independence above all gang - she knew she wouldn’t get that much support from the party so immediately extended a hand to Alba & fringe pro-independence groups. Really trying to play into being a ‘unity for independence’ candidate. I don’t think she’ll have too much support from within the party, and she’s using this platform to boost her own reputation.

Humza Yousaf is being portrayed by the Forbes and Regan as the ‘continuity candidate’ as if winning every election in the past 8 years has been a bad thing. He’s pro-equality, unequivocal in his support for the recently passed GRA reform, and plans to continue the roll out of progressive policies we’ve become quite used to. He wants to extend child care etc.

The vast majority of SNP members I know are voting for Humza, there’s a few I know who are going Forbes. I’ve not yet met anyone who’s voting for Regan.

The vote is a transferable one, so SNP members will rank candidates in order of preference. I’ve seen a lot of Humza supporters just outright not transferring their vote - this is why the other two candidates are bending over backwards to discredit the leadership election. They’re already complaining about ‘voter regret’ etc.

Either way, the SNP could split after this - if Humza wins, Forbes has absolutely nuked her career and won’t be offered a cabinet position. Regan might spit the dummy and join Alba, becoming Alex Salmond’s successor.

[thickenmyblood]

I love HIUH and think about it often. Today I was thinking about Laurent and his experience with his own court-mandated therapy along with some of your recent tumblr comments.

Did he want to start therapy back when he did? I assume that if it was court-mandated it was a condition of him getting custody of Nicaise. Did he want to go on medication or did he resist? What would cause Paschal to recommend it? Damen mentioned early on in the story some fighting between Laurent and Nicaise when he first started living with them, so maybe that was it and it was worse than Damen and his rose-tinted glasses remembers.

I always assumed Laurent would be very pro-therapy (for Nicaise's well being and when he learned that Damen went too) but does he think the same thing for himself -- especially since you noted that this Laurent is very self-hating and was basically ok with being a target of Damen's unintended toxic masculinity. He also seemed to take the brunt of Agnes' well-meaning advise to him about him separating his life from Nicaise's and that ended up with Damen mad at him for not noticing what was happening.

It's all so interesting and I'd love to hear more if you can/want to share. Thank you!

hi!!!!!!!! i love these questions.

Did he want to start therapy back when he did? I assume that if it was court-mandated it was a condition of him getting custody of Nicaise.

no, he didn't want to do it, but at the same time I think of laurent as a very rational person, and so it would be hard for him to objectively say "I'm fine and don't need any kind of help" when he lost his entire family and was emotionally and sexually abused for years. it's my headcanon that he went into it thinking "I'll attend the required 20-something sessions and then I'm done", but he ended up liking paschal and also realizing he really needed the outlet (let's face it, he was NOT going to be talking to damen about any of that)

Did he want to go on medication or did he resist? What would cause Paschal to recommend it? Damen mentioned early on in the story some fighting between Laurent and Nicaise when he first started living with them, so maybe that was it and it was worse than Damen and his rose-tinted glasses remembers.

there are a few mentions in the story about how negatively laurent thinks and feels about his mother. it's implied she also struggled with mental health issues and ended up needing some kind of treatment (meds, inpatient, etc.), which laurent doesn't seem very supportive of. it's my personal opinion that laurent doesn't want to end up like her, doesn't want to relate to her in that way, and he's already at a disadvantage because he was institutionalized as a teen. so . . . yes, I think he REALLY resisted going on meds.

as to why paschal recommended it . . . we don't see this in canon because the story ends in KR and that's it for them, basically, but I imagine that once things have settled, laurent abandons his hypervigilant state and in the new calm that follows is forced to deal with all the emotional things he did not have the time, space, comfort to do deal with before. which means actually FEELING your feelings. which means . . . going a bit insane. i did a lot of trimming when it comes to the flashbacks, but there was one I sort of regret taking out because it showed laurent right before going on meds. he's in and out all the time, in public and when he's alone, and damen doesn't really notice how bad it is until they're having a conversation that borders on suicidal ideation.

“Disappear,” Damen said. “Like a vacation?” Laurent stopped scrubbing his hands. “No.” “The school year doesn’t end for another three months.” “The school year?” Damen frowned then, because— “Unless you don’t want to take Nicaise?” “Nicaise,” Laurent said, like he was hearing the name for the first time. He went back to scrubbing.

it's also mentioned in the fic that laurent has trouble sleeping. so, it's a nice combo of years of pent-up shame and self-hatred, anxiety and stress over the new responsibility of raising a kid, guilt over what happened to said kid, a baseline of depression, issues with your partner because you don't know how to be vulnerable and he's a bit too oblivious sometimes . . . yeah. laurent and nicaise's arguments def pushed laurent over the edge, too, because back then nicaise was still pretty much team uncle, which in turn brought up a lot of trauma for laurent since they're mirror characters in the fic.

i loved this ask!!! thank you for reading the story and reaching out!! i hope this reply was worth your time.

#hiuh #anon #tw mental health #tw suicidal thoughts #laurent in hiuh is my spirit animal #i mean any laurent is bc i love him #but honestly i think i love damen more???? idk man there's just something about a guy not being able to do yoga that just gets me #captive prince

[sunoooism]

I was down ; you picked me up

› summary: in which Taehyun finds you in a pit of despair and helps you climb out.

› angst, comfort / wc: 1,628

 › warnings: mental health issues, self doubting thoughts, suicidal thoughts/intentions, eating disorder & depression, crying, mentions of throwing up, angst, comfort ending, some sort of higher education au (they live in dormitories), if you're ever feeling like this please reach out to someone (my dms r open), I'm not at all romanticising this kind of behaviour but it's comfort writing and very much self indulgent, don't read if you don't like, gn!reader.

everything around you felt dull and dark, felt like it was suffocating you, dragging you down into its grey mass. it had this horrible feeling of loneliness splashed into the mix, filling up your lungs until you were drowning in it. and what was worse, nobody cared enough to pull you out. you supposed it was nobody's fault but your own though. summer was the chance you had been waiting for, the chance to erase yourself. unanswered texts, missed calls and unreturned letters piled up for too long and eventually your friends stopped trying all together. it hurt, but you had achieved your motive in the end, so you didn't understand why you felt so unpleasantly about it. unfortunately rumours were now circling about the school, the hot new subject being that you thought you were too good for your old friends and that's why you ghosted them. ironic, your mind that loved to torture you so with your low self esteem was laughing at you. yet, today you didn't seem to care enough to express it outwardly.

hair askew, uniform crinkled, eyebags that felt ever so heavy, you dragged yourself to the library. earning a few glares and nudges on your way, you had guessed they were fueled by the rumours. and despite looking worse than death itself, no one seemed to notice the longing for it behind your lifeless eyes. as you passed through the many hallways, you spotted your friends, now ex friends, all laughing together through a window. the usual numbness you felt was replaced by a wave of hurt that almost swallowed you whole when you saw how unaffected they were by your absence, even though you knew you didn't have the right to, not after you purposely cut them off. although there were many students blocking your view of them, Soobin still managed to clock you gazing at them with wistful longing and regret.

in an act of panic you jumped at his sudden attention and sped away from them, but not before you heard Kai call your name. fortunately for you a study period was last on your schedule, so you made your way to your dorm, trying to look as inconspicuous as one could when speed walking away from a group of people. the footsteps managed to follow you through buzzing crowds until you reached the hall of which your dorm was located, you breathed a sigh of relief when you could no longer hear their thundering stomps.

warm tears were already making their way down your cheeks by the time you'd collapsed on your bed and hidden yourself amongst the many blankets and cushions sitting upon it. you let your sadness consume you once again, choking on your gasps and sniffles.

your room was your only outlet of peace, every student at the school knew that, which is why you didn't understand why someone was now banging on your door when they were meant to be in class anyway. you didn't have the energy nor the care to open the door. not leaving your dorm in three and a half days had made you feel like jelly whenever you moved, that and all those days depriving yourself of food, water and daylight didn't help either. you had hoped it was punishment enough for pushing your friends away, but apparently something in your body wanted for you to suffer more, curled up in your bed staring at a blank wall until you fell asleep. the showers and the cookie basket your mother sent were calling to you, almost as inviting as a siren song. but with most things these days you couldn't find it in yourself to want to or care enough.

the incessant knocking on your door continued, as well as the now overuse of your name being called. in all honesty the thought of someone seeing you like this made you want to throw up, probably what they would do at the sight of you. ah, your mind was torturing you again, enough to make you teeter and sway at the edge, but never enough to push you over and watch you tumble down until you hit rock bottom.

you heard your doorknob turn and someone walk in. you thought you had locked your door? not knowing who it was you were ready for some judgemental looks being thrown your way when they saw your state. you were hoping it was an axe murderer coming to end your pathetic and dreary life but apparently not as kang taehyun was all who flooded your vision.

"y/n, what the fuck? everyone thought you were dead" the sentence had come out more venomous than he'd of liked, but right now it was hard to sound soft as he stared at his friend looking like they'd been drained of all life.

"might as well be" your throaty response came out quiet, but he heard, and it broke his heart more than when you'd dumped him right before summer. though it was the first time he'd heard you speak in 9 weeks, he could hear all the self loathing and resentment your tone held. taehyun laid a hand on your arm, rubbing soothing circles that spread the first warmth you'd felt in weeks through your body, then he asked the question everyone who felt like you dreaded and hoped for at the same time.

"are you okay?"

somehow, you still had enough fluids in you to push down your stoic barrier and let everything pour out. tears began to stream down your cheeks, which only worried the boy that knelt beside you further. "y/n?" the call of your name passed right through you, too busy gasping between sobs to acknowledge he was talking to you.

"y/n? can you sit up for me?" his tone was mellow, just as soft as his touch that had now trailed down to your hands. you supposed he didn't want to upset you more than you already were by sounding angry. despite the gnawing thought of wanting to curl up in a ball and die because someone had seen you like this, you manoeuvred your body languidly so you could lean against the wall, because you knew that this was best for you right now.

after a moment of putting the deep breathing exercises Yeonjun had taught you to good use, a tissue was held in front of you. your shaky hand reached out and grasped it, barely strong enough to hold it up to your face.

"i'm sorry" the words escaped you before you could even choose to say them, a frown etching its way onto taehyun's brows when he heard. "why are you apologising?"

"I-" the words died in your throat once you realised you weren't quite sure why, was it because you dumped him? because of the fact you ignored him all summer only for him to be the person comforting you at your lowest? both?.

"you don't have to apologise for feeling things'' you didn't quite know how to respond to that. your lack of reply gave him another opening to speak. "do you want to talk more about it after some food and a shower?" nodding hesitantly, you followed his slow movements to walk towards the door, planning to grab clean clothes and a towel on the way. that plan was quickly brushed to the back of your mind when your vision clouded over with black spots, weakening you until you collapsed back onto your bed with a shaky breath that alerted taehyun to your troubles.

"woah, you alright? want me to grab a nurse?" all that followed was a brisk shake of your head and tears making their home under your lash line once again.

stupid. you couldn't even walk right.

"i'm sorry" you squeaked out, voice quivery with the sniffles. "hey, it's okay. there's no need for apologies over this, yeah?" your body sought out refuge as it leant into his palm he had placed gently on your cheek, his affection burning your skin with the familiar warmth that had always come to you when the two of you were dating. you wondered how he felt about all this, watching his ex fall apart multiple times in ten minutes for a reason that was unknown to him. god, you must have looked stupid.

"i'm sorry, taehyun" you finally spoke after an awkward silence, both waiting for the other to say something. "hey, what did I just-"

"no. it's, it's not for that," he watched you carefully, as if he looked too hard you might crack under his gaze. you hated that, but nevertheless you were grateful he cared. "i'm sorry for ignoring you this summer, it wasn't fair to you, or to anyone else I ditched. I just, I want you to know it wasn't because of you. i just thought it might hurt less for you and me when i…."

the rest was caught in your throat as you couldn't bring yourself to say it in front of him, the boy who'd said he would give you the whole world if he could. the boy who treated you like royalty every minute you spent together, the boy who used to love you more than anything else. the boy who still does love you more than anything else. he didn't deserve to hear what you were about to say.

"when you..?" one glance up into his curious brown eyes was all it took for him to understand. you could see him trying to mask the pain for your sake, hiding it so you didn't feel guilty. but you already did.

"i'm sor-" you were promptly interrupted when taehyun spoke over you, eyes gazing fondly into yours. "hey,"

"no more sorries, 'k?"

#sunoooism #txt #txt x reader #txt x you #txt x gender neutral reader #txt kang taehyun #txt taehyun #kang taehyun x reader #kang taehyun #kang taehyun x gender neutral reader #taehyun #taehyun x reader #tomorrow x together #txt drabbles #txt scenarios #txt headcanons #comfort #angst #txt angst #txt comfort #kang taehyun comfort #taehyun comfort #kang taehyun angst #taehyun angst

[doumadono]

Hey hey so I hope it's okay if I send in an Emergency Request.

Recently I've been on a new antipsychotic and it's causing weight gain, so they put me on a diet medication and I'm STILL gaining weight.

As someone with a past of having anorex!a this is MAJORLY triggering as now I'm in the "Overwe!ght" BMI range and I'm freaking the fuck out and wanting to d!e every single day.

So can I get a comfort with Shinsou who reaffirms the reader( who also struggles with gender dysphoria at the same time, so this is doubly hard ) that he will love them no matter what gender they are and how much they weigh and that they can work on losing weight in a healthy way and he will help them recovery from their ED habits together?

Shinso & s/o with gender dysphoria and anxiety about gaining weight

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Shinsou notices your struggle and decides to have a heart-to-heart conversation with you. "You've been going through a lot lately, haven't you? Wanna talk?"

You open up about your experiences with gender dysphoria, the weight of the words lifting as you share this intimate part of yourself. "I've been grappling with my gender identity, and it's been a real struggle. I trust you, Shinso..."

The words pour out as you recount the toxic environment at home, the pressure to conform to harmful beauty standards, and the history of your family promoting your eating disorder. "My family, they've always pushed me toward this destructive path. It's been a battle to break free from their influence."

He starts by expressing genuine concern, acknowledging the difficulties you're facing with both medication and family issues.

There's a moment of vulnerability as you worry about how Shinsou will react. "I'm afraid you'll see me differently, that this will be too much for you..."

Shinsou reassures you that he cares deeply for you, emphasizing that your worth isn't determined by your weight or gender. "I want you to know that I adore every part of you, regardless of what your family or society says. Your gender identity is valid, and your journey is uniquely yours, remember that, sweetpie."

Shinsou encourages you to focus on your health rather than conforming to societal standards, stressing that your well-being matters most.

He suggests finding positive outlets for stress relief and encourages you to explore activities that bring joy and fulfillment. "How about we make some tasty, nutritious snacks together? It's a small step, but a positive one, don't you think?"

Shinsou reminds you that your identity and body are yours to define, and he supports you in every decision you make.

He shares stories of his own struggles, highlighting that everyone faces challenges, and growth is possible through perseverance.

Shinsou proposes working together on setting achievable, healthy goals, whether related to weight or personal development.

He assures you that he's there for you every step of the way, offering support and understanding. "You're strong, you know? Facing everything head-on."

He uses his quirk to gently ease some of the emotional burden you're carrying, showing how he cares about your mental well-being.

Shinsou encourages open communication, emphasizing that your feelings and experiences are valid, and he's here to listen without judgment. "It's always better to talk to your trusted person, isn't it, sweetpie?"

The air hung heavy with a subdued tension as you found solace in the quiet corner of your shared living space with Shinso. The weight of unspoken burdens rested on your shoulders, and as the tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn't hold back the overwhelming tide of emotion any longer.

Shinso noticed the tremble in your voice and the shimmer of unshed tears. He approached you with a gentle concern etched across his face. "Hey, what's going on? You seem… distant."

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you attempted to articulate the complex emotions swirling within. "It's just… my family. They've never understood, and now with everything else… It feels like I'm drowning in their expectations. I'm also struggling with my gender... I feel like I'm drowning, Shinso..."

Shinso sat beside you, a silent gesture that spoke volumes. "You can talk to me. I'm here for you. Breathe. In and out, in and out. Calm down and pour it all out. It'll ease your stress. And no matter what, I'll stay by your side, always. You're perfect just the way you are. I love everything about you."

With a heavy exhale, you began to unravel the painful narrative of a family that had never truly been supportive. "They always had these expectations, these ideals of what they thought I should be. It's suffocating. They pushed me into this dark spiral of self-doubt, made me believe I was never enough. And thank you for your kind words, baby..."

The tears flowed freely now, a cathartic release of pent-up emotions.

Shinso, understanding the weight of your words, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You are more than enough, and I'm here to help you break free from those chains. You don't have to carry their expectations anymore."

In the warmth of Shinso's reassurance, you continued to share the heart-wrenching details of a family that promoted destructive behaviors, exacerbating your struggles. "They encouraged my unhealthy habits, made me believe that I had to conform to their standards. It's been a never-ending battle."

Shinso's gaze never wavered, a silent pillar of support. "You're not alone anymore. We'll face this together, and I promise you, their expectations won't define your worth."

As you poured out your heart to Shinso, the weight on your shoulders began to lift, replaced by the gentle embrace of understanding and empathy coming from your beloved boyfriend.

#emergency request #bnha shinsou #shinso hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou #shinso fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsō #mha shinsou #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #mha x you

[ailani-reillata]

Ailani’s Story and the Indigenous Experience

Since it’s Ailani’s second anniversary tomorrow, I really wanted to take some time to discuss some of the themes and ideas behind her story.

I have a lot of things I want to discuss, but in this post, I want to talk about Ailani’s story as seen through an Indigenous lens. Later, I want to discuss the very specific Kānaka Maoli themes in her story, but right now, I want to cover the overall theme of Indigenous identity and how it applies to the story I’m telling. 

A lot of the issues/things I will be discussing in this post impact other communities as well, but as an Indigenous person discussing my Indigenous character, I’ll be mainly referring to these things through an Indigenous lens and perspective. 

I’ve talked endlessly about how Ailani’s story is a love letter to grief and a story of mental health, but it’s also always been a cultural outlet for me. Every aspect of her life has multiple meanings and metaphors, but right now, I want to talk about my Indigenous perspective and how that impacted the story I wrote.

Ailani’s story begins before she is born. It begins on Mandalore, her Father’s homeworld. Shortly after her parents get married, the planet is thrown into Civil War due to Republic interference and clan infighting. Ailani’s Father and his clan are forcibly removed from Mandalore after the Republic and the Jedi Order assist the New Mandalorian clan and help install a new government. Her Father is then separated by the fragmented remains of his clan and moves to Naboo. His wife insists that he will have a better life there and have better opportunities. But he is alone and isolated. No one around speaks his language, no one eats the same kind of food or wears the same kind of clothes. He is entirely alone culturally. Until Ailani is born, he is the only Mandalorian for light years. 

This story of forcible displacement, cultural isolation, and government interference shapes Ailani’s entire life, and this story is also very well known to many Indigenous communities. It’s a story I lived, and it’s a story my kūpuna lived. Many in kūpuna in my family were personally displaced by the fall of the Hawaiian Kingdom and the transition into statehood. People were removed from their homes, people were transported to other islands or even the mainland. The world was changed.

Ailani is born into a galaxy where her culture is all but lost to her family. The minerals and metals in Naboo aren’t the same, so her Father can’t practice his religion, which involves metalworking and craftsmanship. The plants and fruits aren’t the same, so he slowly forgets how to cook the meals he grew up on because he can’t find substitutes. Therefore, Ailani grows up not knowing much of her history and heritage because these things have been stolen from her Father, so he can’t pass them on to her. She speaks Mando’a in her youth, and she learned traditional hunting and gathering, but there is still a massive lack. 

And even those things are later taken from her.

For Ailani is sent to live with the Jedi “for her own good.”

The Mother insists that she and The Father cannot provide for Ailani as she needs. The Mother insists that it’s time to move on. The Mother insists that times are changing. And Ailani is sent to live at a faraway school for her own good. 

This is a story many of our kūpuna know. This is a story from my grandfather’s life. And this is a story he used to tell me. Like Ailani, my grandfather was sent away so he could learn other ways. His parents thought it was best for him to forget them. Like Ailani, my grandfather only got to see his parents once after he was sent away. Like Ailani, his parents died before he got the opportunity to really know them again.

The Jedi don’t explicitly discourage Ailani from pursuing cultural connection, but again, the isolation of her situation robs her of any opportunity to try. She doesn’t know any other Mandalorians. She doesn’t know anyone who speaks the same version of Mando’a that her Father did. She can read books and practice alone, but she misses out on so much because her culture is community-focused, and she is entirely alone. 

And most importantly, she is a Jedi now. 

And the Jedi are part of the reason her Father was removed from Mandalore in the first place. She feels like both victim and executioner. The harder she conforms to Jedi ways, the more guilty she feels about abandoning Mandalorian practices. Yet, at the same time, she feels cast out whenever she engages in Mandalorian practices, because no one else understands them. She is too Mandalorian to be Jedi and too Jedi to be Mandalorian. 

This is also a story my grandfather told me. He spoke of the “modern world” and how desperately he wished to return to the old ways. He missed fishing and slow sunrises and waves full of sea turtles.

But my grandfather also told me that he needed to eat. And he felt that the price of food was forgetting the old ways and adopting the new ones. He said once that all modern things we know were bought with blood money. He told me to never forget where I was from. He made me promise. 

Sometimes, I think this story is for him too.

#This is so long but it’s also so very important to me #My life and my existence and the existence of my people has shaped this story #I’ve had this idea for months and now just felt like the perfect time to discuss it #I also have another unfinished draft about the specific Hawaiian themes seen in her story with tourism impacts but I’ll finish that later #ailani réillata

[bullet-prooflove]

Therapy Sessions- Nick Amaro x Reader

Tagging my girls: @misscharlielulu and @cosmic-psychickitty

Nick didn’t know that you went to the same boxing gym, not until he ran into you late one night. You were in the ring when he entered the building, sparing with his trainer Ezra. You were good, he thought as he hung back and watched. Well-conditioned and disciplined, you rolled easy with the punches you did take. You anticipated Ezra’s moves ducking and sliding with the grace of a dancer. You had been at it for years, he could tell.

Your session was winding down as he approached the ring, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He set it down in the corner as you stripped off your gloves and placed them on the edge.

“Hey.” He greeted as he lifted one of the middle ropes for you to duck under. You exited elegantly, clasping his hand as he helped you off the podium. “I didn’t know you came here.”

You gave him that smile, the one that stole his breath away as you began to undo the vibrant red wraps that were wound around your palms and wrists. You hadn’t worked together long, just over six months, but he enjoyed spending time with you. You were a breath of fresh air in a job that was plagued with darkness. Being in your presence felt like he was stepping into the sunshine after a long, called winter.

“I didn’t know you did.” You returned, nudging him with your shoulder before stuffing the wraps into your gloves.

“Sometimes I have a little extra energy to burn off after a case. Boxing, it helps me work a few things out in here.” He said tapping his temple.

There was silence for a moment after his disclosure. He didn’t talk about his mental health issues, not really. Benson knew, Amanda had been around for some of the bad shit, but she had no idea he was in counselling, their casual thing had come to an end a couple of years ago and neither wanted to pick it up again. The two of them were toxic together.

“I usually do late nights or early mornings.” You supplied, your attention dropping to the laces of your sneakers.

There was something about the way you said it, the timbre of your words. He detected an undercurrent of shame in the revelation, he knew how your head could get fucked up especially in this job.

“You have trouble sleeping?” Nick asked, inclining his head so that he could study the profile of your features.

After his own experiences he should have been able to read the signs, however he also knew how easy it could be to hide them, to pretend that you were fine, day in and day out until you broke.

“Don’t you?” You returned.

Nick smiled because this was what you did. You believed in an exchange of information. A little give and take. Nick could work with that. The truth was he wanted to get to know you better, you were more than just a colleague to him and as for being friends…

What he felt went far deeper than that. He couldn’t pinpoint when it had started, only that it had. Your presence in his life had changed something and he felt more upbeat, more buoyant. His workdays seemed a little bit brighter, even after the shit he saw.

“The boxing helps.” Nick informed you. “I used to have anger issues. Ended up in therapy, boxing is a good outlet, it helps me channel it.”

He didn’t do this; he didn’t share personal details like this. It always felt too raw to talk about but right now it felt good to get it off his chest. He was showing you a part of himself he wasn’t proud of; it was as honest as he could be with another person.

“I used to drink.” You told him, tilting your head so that you could meet his gaze. “It started after a C.I of mine got shot and then…” You inhaled deeply. “It was a slippery slope. I’ve been working the program for about three years now.”

It made sense. Whenever they went out for a drink you always turned it down, you always had plans. Originally, he thought you had a partner, a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, but you had never mentioned a significant other. He’d been to your apartment a couple of times, when you were carpooling, and he’d seen no signs of a relationship.

“I should have been inviting you out to dinner instead of a drink.” He realised, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling.

“And you call yourself a detective.” You teased, a small smile ghosting across your lips. “It’s not that I’m not interested, it’s just the drinking thing when people find out about it…” You trailed off.

Nick got it, he really did. He hadn’t been easy to live with, he knew that and as soon as people found out about the anger issues, they associated it with violence. They thought he was unpredictable, that that monster inside of him could be unleashed at any moment. That wasn’t the truth, it began with a series of triggers, they were like keys snapping open locks to a cage with a beast inside it. He recognised those triggers now; he knew when things were starting to take a turn and he dealt with them beforehand.

“They judge you.” he said knowingly.

“Yea…”

“I don’t judge you.” he uttered, bumping his shoulder against yours. “You know that right? This job it comes with its own set of problems. If you ever need someone to talk to someone, I’m here for you.”

“Do you need someone to talk to Nick?” You asked him, jerking your head towards the ring. “Isn’t that why you’re here tonight?”

Nick’s dark eyes met yours and he wondered what you saw in them. Did you see the echoes of the cases that haunt him at night? The ones he didn’t catch.

“Yea.” He said, glancing over his shoulder at the boxing ring. “Maybe I do.”

Love Nick Amaro? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#nick amaro imagine #nick amaro #nick amaro x you #nick amaro x reader

[phoenix-flamed]

So. On this episode of, Where Has Vonny Been? Or rather, Why Hasn't Vonny Been Replying To IC Stuff, because I know it's been a while since I've done IC posts consistently.

I'm almost always under some kind of stress. I may not actually do much during the day, comparatively speaking, but my sister and I are caretakers for our disabled father. He's not too bad off, not like our mom was -- but he still needs someone here at all times to make sure he eats, gets his meds, etc., and most importantly, doesn't fall, because he can't get back up on his own.

Tied into the first point, no, to be entirely up front, I don't pull my weight around the house. I'm struggling hard with mental health issues, and a few physical health issues, that make it harder than it should be just to function enough to exist on a daily basis. I know, not an excuse. But rest assured that I do have a psychiatrist, am on medications, and speak with a therapist.

To again be upfront, I have Bipolar II, ADHD, Depression and Anxiety, and some level of agoraphobia, on top of the fact that I just generally overthink constantly. I am, at the time of posting this, still unable to get my hands on Concerta for my ADHD due to manufacturer backorder.

I have very limited energy. Like, seriously, I can't stress this enough. I have very limited energy to work with on a daily basis. Which makes things infinitely harder to get done, both IRL and on here.

My creativity is in the negatives these days. I used to draw and write/RP CONSTANTLY in my younger years. Then I started trying medications in order to help with my honestly-really-awful-while-untreated mental health issues, and my creative energy tanked. It's been almost a decade, and this still hasn't changed, unfortunately. Equally as unfortunate is the fact that while I desperately miss drawing and writing, because they were my creative outlets AND some things I'd wanted to do as a profession, I need my medications in order to function. So I can't exactly just... stop taking them and hope that creative spark reignites.

I know. A lot of very useless, very personal info that no one asked for, but here it is anyway. I know, RPing is a hobby, so there's no need to apologize. But where I do feel the need to apologize is that we are all here to write, at the end of the day. I don't want people to think that my inability to keep up with anything is because of lack of interest, or dislike for them or their muse, because I'm trying to snub them, etc. The truth is that I can't even keep up with remembering to eat lunch most of the time. So while I understand that people can, and have the right to, get fed up with waiting, I at least want to assure everyone that my slowness isn't personal against any of you.

#Out of the Flames #TW: Personal #CW: Personal

[decaydanceredacted]

all night been thinking about fucking pete bareback. i imagine being his girlfriend around 2001-2003 and being broke living in chicago and rooming with him so rent is easier to pay and so we can be together (in my fantasyland this apartment is still shared with the rest of fob i just share a bedroom with pete.) i imagine that one night we forget about protection in the throes of passion and decide that it’s hot and just keep tempting fate and relying on the pull out method. and then kind of letting go of that too because we both secretly find the whole breeding thing really fucking hot but both unwilling to really talk about that verbally but oh so willing to act it out. we would just get so into it and be fucking whenever the other guys weren’t home (and if they were, only if they were asleep enough)

i just want to fuck this man every single way i can. want to come home from work late at night after a frustrating shift to him about to fall asleep and climb on top of him, wake him up enough for him to get into it and then ride him into oblivion. want him to accidentally wake me up when he’s honey in the middle of the night and have him fuck me so he can get back to sleep. want to be driving home from a date, find a nice spot to pull over on a rural road and fuck in the back seat. want good old fashioned steamy make out session with him that always ends with his cock out. want to be feeling really sleepy but at the same time really horny, lay down in a pile of pillows and blankets and have slow missionary with him

back to my fantasyland . this is not as sexy but i imagine that i actually do get pregnant and i can’t and don’t want to keep it because i’m not ready for it all and neither is he and he’s really supportive about it but after this the relationship kind of fizzled out because we go different directions (if i wanna get really self indulgent it’s because im trying to get my own band off the ground) but stay friends. then like 20 years later when we’re both in our 30s/40s we’re both single and haven’t really hung out in a while and decide to do it again when we somehow are in the same city at the same time doing nothing and end up getting back together- this includes hot (far more experienced) reunion sex btw. i imagine the relationship we had when we were younger was far from perfect because of both of our mental health issues but now that we have both gotten a lot more treatment for it and all we are so much better for each other . i wanna chew on his current blond hair btw.

also the funny thing about pete is that everything i want him to do to me i want to do to him. i wanna cum in him and breed him and pull his hair and fuck him against the wall too who wouldnt

also have safe sex guys 👍 sorry u had to be the victim of my ramble my housemates are being so loud i can’t sleep and i have no other outlet for my pete feelings. thank u for your service goodnight

.

#pw #extra long redacted #youre so real for this anon

[melodygatesauthor]

Kinda going through it today…

You guys know I don’t normally talk about my personal life but I felt like now was as good a time as any to talk about mental health.

(TW: mentions of suicide and mental health issues, and over all depressing topics below)

Today I went to a funeral for a girl I spent a lot of time with growing up around her and her brother. My dad and her dad are best friends. I’m 31 and she was 22. She took her own life last week and it really left a hole in everyone’s heart.

I’m fine, really. I wasn’t SUPER close with her toward the end, but the memories still remain, and it pains me to think she went through something like that. I think when this sort of thing happens to someone so young it’s even more jarring, reminding us all of our own mortality. It hurt even more to see her brother and parents going through their grief. Being an older sister of three younger brothers, I just can’t bear the thought of, “what if I was in her brother’s shoes right now?”

Seeing her family go through this also really shakes up the trauma I faced just over two years ago (in 2021). My father tried to take his own life, and if not for my youngest (16 yo at the time) brother and my step mother coming home just in time, he wouldn’t be here today. My dad was diagnosed with bipolar disorder (so in a hypo manic episode he tried to take his life) and is doing fine now, but that will always be a day that I’ll never forget, because of the impact it had on me and my family.

Just a few months later, still in 2021, a man I’d known since infancy committed suicide the same way my dad attempted and needless to say, the topic of suicide really hits a nerve for me. I feel like I’m seeing it happen so often around me and it’s just weighing on me a lot having just gone to this funeral.

I’m VERY good at managing my mental health and self awareness so when I tell you I’m ok, I mean it. I’m just using this as an outlet to express myself and I appreciate anyone who’s reading still.

I’m not trying to make this girl’s death and funeral about me, because it’s not, but I wanted to remind anyone who needs to hear this that there’s always someone out there who cares even when you feel like things are hopeless. There’s always someone who will be happy you called them at 1am instead of resorting to the alternative. And there is ALWAYS someone out there who thinks about you every day, even if they don’t say it.

You’re important, valid, and loved by someone.

If any ONE of you ever needs someone to talk to, vent to, or just wants to spout nonsense about our favorite blorbos, you know how to find me.

I’m still going to keep writing today because that’s my therapy. It helps me cope with the sad thoughts and feelings. I’ve received many years of ACTUAL therapy and it’s probably saved my life, I’m sure of it. Please get professional help if you think you need it and you have the means to access it because it’s VITAL.

I swear to you all that I really am ok, I just needed a place to put my thoughts and share my feelings after a hard day.

Your favorite pics of Oscar (and Oscar characters) and thots are more than welcome in my inbox ❤️

#melody talks #TW suicide #tw depression #tw depressing stuff #tw death #tw sad shit

[mymistakewriting]

i personally agree and relate so much with buck’s adhd + anxiety specifically so i was just wondering if you could go more in depth with those headcanons? adhd buck is so important to me and reading about it and talking gives ME dopamine lol. oooh and the volume control like getting called out on it would so trigger his RSD! and everyone LOVES going to trivia with him for sure hahah sorry this kind of turned into my headcanons but yeah what do you think??!

I'll answer that second ask you sent in separately because Oh Boy do I have some Opinions to share on all of it.

I absolutely adore getting to just sit down and scream about characters and their habits and their mental health and how it all ties together. And Buck has given me PLENTY to work with since I started the show. But specifically focusing in on his ADHD & anxiety & RSD?

Not only does he hyperfixate on random stuff that has no use he CANONICALLY does research on natural disasters after he's lived through them - he did so with the tsunami, he did so with the earthquakes. He even canonically references researching volcanos after the wildfire crossover with Lone Star where he made the trip to Austin to help. This man is a walking encyclopedia of information on natural disasters and traumas. But it's very much a coping mechanism. It's a "I survived this and I have no clue how or why, so I have to understand what the odds were and I need to be able to be prepared and help others better if I ever live through another one of these". It's a "if I understand this and why it happens and how best to survive it, then it holds no power over me". It's a "I can't be scared of this so I have to understand it instead." It's the kind of coping mechanism that I've only ever seen in people who have ADHD or autism - statistics over fear, because fear can only cause harm ESPECIALLY as a first responder. Fear can come later, accept he tries not to ever let it because that makes him weak in his eyes.

The anxiety definitely stims from childhood trauma - look at his parents and Maddie and tell me that their behaviors weren't the root cause of so many of Buck's bad habits and I'll call you a liar. His parents are the reason he's so reckless. His parents AND Maddie are the reason Buck 1.0 was clinging so tightly to the label of sex addict because it was hard for him to admit that he didn't feel good enough after being left behind by everyone he'd ever had in his entire life. And don't take this as me talking poorly on Maddie, but she's also the reason why Buck latched on so tightly to Abby. And Ali. And Taylor. And the 118 crew. She left when he was a teenager, left him with parents that they both knew were awful, and he kind of internalized it and now a few years down the line it's crippling anxiety and abandonment issues and he doesn't have an outlet for any of that. And I could go on for hours about how his childhood contributed to him being semi-verbal at best, and about how much of how he defines himself ties into how he was defined as a kid, but that'll have to be a whole other post because there are so many intricacies to it that it deserves it's own thing.

His RSD. Oh I love the portrayal they give for his RSD. Because it's not just canceled plans and being overlooked that send him spiraling like so many people assume when they hear the phrase. It's someone's tone changing or someone pulling away too soon when he gets comfortable showing affection. It's how he held on so tight until he just couldn't anymore when Abby left because she said she'd come back and she's never lied to me before so she'll come back, everyone else is being dramatic. I just have to wait.

It's how well he just gave all of himself to Ali. She helped him find a place to live. Helped him furnish it in a way that is shockingly out of character for Buck - none of those decorations when he was with her felt like him in the slightest.

It was how he tried to twist and change himself and his relationships to make things with with Taylor. He didn't bring Eddie up to her often, didn't bring her up to Eddie unless he could avoid it, didn't talk about work, let her use his place and his information and his everything to do her job even though it got him questioned there at the end by the Department about who her sources were. And it's there in how hesitant he was to end things. How much he looked like he was fighting himself when he did end things.

His volume control is such a small thing that never gets called out in the fandom posts I do see - the 118 is wonderful at it once they know him, they know ways to point it out without sending him into a tailspin. It's always a gentle cup to the shoulder or elbow or a gentle nudge of shoulder to shoulder or a soft redirection that requires a softer voice somewhere else. It's never a "you're being too loud" or an annoyed glance from them.

From people they save, though? Buck stutters a lot more around people they work to save, he's always trying to be conscious of everything because he's gotten those looks or gotten those annoyed comments time and time and time again until it's become one of his biggest insecurities.

He gives every bit of himself to everything he does, and it definitely makes his RSD worse when that just isn't enough.

#kieran talks #asks #anon #evan buckley #buck #911 headcanons #I had a lot to say about this sorry #I think I still have more to say but this was getting a little long