#but yeah all of this to say i have diagnoses and I'm excited to be able to use those to get real accommodations to help me deal with college

[alessiasfreckles]

not good, not bad, just different (leah williamson x ADHD!reader)

disclaimer: this is based off of my personal experience of ADHD. this is in no way saying that this is what adhd looks like for everyone!!

a/n: based on this request! i hope you like it, i'm sorry it's so all over the place but that also felt pretty thematic so... hopefully it's okay. i'm planning on doing 1-2 more parts to this! the next part will be about the reader getting diagnosed and coming to terms with their diagnosis + telling the other lionesses about it. also if you're interested in more WLW football based fiction involving ADHD, read Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner!

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

You had always felt… different. Not in a ‘not like other girls’ kind of way, more like an ‘I don’t understand what’s wrong with me’ kind of way. Things just seemed to be so much harder for you than for everybody else. 

As a teenager, you were constantly getting told off by your parents for your messy room and bad grades. You were a smart kid, they said, so why couldn’t you just do your homework and study for tests like everyone else?

You would ask yourself the same thing. Forcing yourself to sit at your desk, staring at your maths textbook, desperately begging your brain to just cooperate, just this once, not understanding why it was so hard to just do the work. 

When your parents would come into your room you would instantly feel a flash of white-hot shame at the state of it. Clothes everywhere, rubbish you’d forgotten about in corners, plates, cups, half empty water bottles. You couldn’t help it, it was like once something was out of your line of sight, you just forgot it existed, like the plate of half-eaten food that you’d put next to the bed at some point and then had absent-mindedly pushed under the bed to get it out of your way. When you found it weeks - okay, months - later, you were so embarrassed by the mould that you secretly threw it away rather than take it downstairs to the kitchen, where anyone could see it. 

You would forget things you knew you should remember, things that anyone else would have remembered, like weekly tutoring sessions that your parents paid for (something they reminded you of when you forgot, yet again). You felt so stupid. It was at the same time, every Wednesday after school, so why couldn’t you remember? 

Or doctor’s appointments, dentist appointments, any kind of appointment really. You would write it into your calendar, set yourself a reminder on the day, set yourself another reminder 30 minutes before, and all that would happen is that you would swipe away the reminder thinking ‘oh, yeah’, and then you’d continue doing whatever you were doing before. It was only when you’d hear the phone ring that you’d instantly know it was about you, about the appointment you’d missed, or maybe it was from school, or maybe something else you’d just completely forgotten about.

And all of that wasn’t even taking your issues with human interaction into account. You’d always struggled to make friends, especially as a girl who liked football. When you hit 9 or 10, the other girls in your class started to grow more interested in talking about boys, or music, or tv. You couldn’t understand what they found so interesting, that they’d rather spend breaks just sitting around chatting to each other when they could be running around playing football, or some other game, or anything more exciting. 

As you got a little older, though, you realised that it was clearly a ‘you’ problem. People at your secondary school were nice, for the most part, but you still struggled to make friends. When you’d accidentally interrupt someone, or start talking too much and too loudly in excitement, or fidget a little too noisily, people would give you looks and whisper to each other about how weird you were. You learned to sit on your hands to stop yourself from clicking a pen or tapping your fingers, to keep quiet to avoid saying the wrong thing or saying it the wrong way. 

Football was a good escape. It was fast-paced enough that you didn’t have time to think about other things, and there was enough going on that your brain wasn’t looking for external stimulation. You’d always been observant, noticing things most people wouldn’t notice, and you used it to your advantage. You were quick with the ball and you seemed to always know where everyone was around you. You were so good, in fact, that you made the England U17 squad - something you’d hoped would make you seem a little cooler at school, but just added to your ‘weirdness’. 

That time was far behind you now, though. Now you were in your twenties and not only played football professionally, having joined Arsenal when you were 19, but also played for the England senior squad, one of the Lionesses. 

That’s not to say that you didn’t still struggle with things. Your apartment was a mess, you lost things constantly, you would still interrupt people and fidget. You had friends though, at least. If anything, people knew what you were like and they loved you for it. It became a running joke on match days that you would inevitably lose your shoes, or your shin pads, or your phone, or that you’d need to borrow a hair bobble from someone. Everything would always show up right as you started to panic, though. Your shoes would be in the bathroom, because you’d been holding them when you went in to go to the toilet before the game like you always did. Your shin pads would be in the pockets of your jacket, one on each side, so you wouldn’t lose them. 

“Looking for this?” Leah would ask, pulling your phone out of her pocket and smiling at the look of relief on your face.

“Yes! Where was it?” 

“On the bus. You left it on your seat,” she explained.

“Huh. That doesn’t sound like me,” you joked.

“Nah, that definitely doesn’t sound like you,” she would say with a wink.

So, yeah. Maybe you had a reputation as the forgetful one, and the messy one, and the chaotic one, and the distracted one. But that was just who you were, right?

---------

Okay, you knew you were here for a reason. There must have been something you were going to get from the prep room, that’s literally the only reason you were there. You mentally went through everything you needed; shoes, on your feet, jacket, wearing it, headphones, in your pocket, water bottle - fuck, that was it! Your bottle!

You grabbed it from the bench where you’d left it and headed back out. On the way you needed to pee, so you quickly went to the bathroom, washed your hands, and went back to the training pitch.

“Did you get your water bottle?” Leah asked, a quizzical look on her face as she looked at your empty hands.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “I had it. Where the fuckety fuck did I put it?”

“Y/n, come on! Training started 5 minutes ago!” one of the trainers called over. You felt a white hot flash of shame in your belly, heat rising to your face.

“Do you want me to help you look for it?” Leah asked.

You shook your head, looking down. “No, it’s fine,” you muttered. “Let’s just start training.”

After training, Kyra came over to you in the changing room. 

“Here,” she said, holding out your bottle. “I found it in the toilets, on the sink.” 

---------

After that you made a list. You stuck it to the inside of your cubby, and every day you would look through it, double checking everything before you left the room. It helped for a while, until you started seeing the list as part of the background and your brain started ignoring it.

When you went to international camp, it got worse. You were away from your routine, in an unfamiliar environment. At least the people you were with was pretty much the same as always. As nice as it was to see everyone though, it was draining, too.

“Y/n? What do you want?” Leah asked. You were on a rare night out, the whole team at a restaurant by the beach together.

“Huh?” you asked, frowning. At a table nearby, people were singing ‘Happy Birthday’, cheering, clapping. On the other side of you, someone was having a conversation - it sounded like they were on a first date, but that didn’t make sense, you were in Spain, they sounded English, why would they be on a first date here? 

“What do you want to order?” Leah asked again, prompting you. The waitress stood there, looking at you expectantly, notepad in her hand. A light flickered somewhere in the corner of your eye.

“Oh, um, I,” you stuttered, looking at the huge menu in front of you. The people on the date were talking about what kind of things they liked to do on holiday, she liked to go sightseeing, he just wanted to relax, at another table a baby started crying, the ice in people’s glasses was clinking, knives and forks were scraping against plates, that song you’d had stuck in your head for days now was still playing on a loop in the back of your head, your leg was bouncing uncontrollably under the table, someone’s nails were tapping against their phone, the man was telling the woman that the whole point of holidays is to relax-

Leah’s hand on your knee made you look up from where you’d zoned out looking at the menu. The waitress was gone. Leah was looking at you with a concerned expression, her hand steady on your knee. 

“Do you want to go outside, get some fresh air?” she asked calmly. 

You nodded wordlessly. 

With a hand on your arm she guided you outside the restaurant, taking you to a nearby bench to sit down. The breeze cooled the sweat on the back of your neck, making you shiver. 

“Are you cold?” Leah asked, reaching for her jacket. 

“No, no, I’m okay,” you said, breathing in deeply. You knew you should just go back inside, suck it up, smile at Leah and say everything was okay, but you just couldn’t yet. You just needed a few more minutes.

You sat there in silence for a minute. It wasn’t a bad silence, but you could tell Leah was giving you space to talk whenever you felt ready. You didn’t want to talk about what had just happened though, you felt too embarrassed about getting overwhelmed like that. Everyone else was fine, it was just you who couldn’t handle it.

“The people at the table next to us, I think they were on a first date,” you said instead, looking at your hands. 

“Yeah?” Leah laughed. 

“Yeah. But, like, why would they be on a first date here? They sounded English, why are they on a first date at a restaurant in Spain?” you asked.

“Huh, I dunno,” Leah mused. “Maybe they’re both on holiday and happened to meet and decided to go on a date?”

“Maybe,” you nodded. After a few seconds of quiet, you sighed. “I’m sorry about all that. I just got… there was just a lot going on.”

Leah squeezed your knee. “It’s okay. It was busy in there, wasn’t it?”

You nodded again. “Yeah. My brain just couldn’t handle it all. All the noises, and the menu- oh, fuck, I didn’t order anything!”

“It’s okay,” Leah chuckled. “I ordered for you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. A sandwich and chips. If you don’t want it I’m sure someone else will eat it,” she shrugged. 

“I didn’t even notice you ordering for me,” you frowned. “I feel like something’s wrong with me.”

“Wrong with you? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I- I feel like something is wrong with my brain,” you tried to explain, not knowing how to put it into words.

Leah frowned. 

“It doesn’t matter, I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. “Let’s go back inside. Everyone is probably wondering where we are.”

“Wait, y/n, we can stay outside for a little bit longer,” Leah said.

“No, no,” you stood up quickly, not meeting her eyes. “Let’s go. I’m okay, I promise.”

———

It didn’t take long for Leah to corner you the next day, determined to talk to you..

“You seem distracted,” Leah said, sitting down next to you on the bench. “More distracted than usual, I mean.”

“Ha, yeah,” you said. “It’s kind of ironic, actually. I’m distracted because I’m distracted.”

“Right…” she said, frowning. “You’re distracted because you’re thinking about why you’re distracted?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to think of how to word it. “We all know I get distracted easily, right?”

The blonde nodded. “Yeah, you’re like a magpie or something. You see something shiny, you gotta pick it up. Except the shiny thing is literally anything that catches your attention,” she laughed. 

“Exactly! Well, I was looking some stuff up online, or, no, I saw some stuff online, wait, let me start again,” you said. “My thoughts are moving faster than my mouth. Okay, so, when I was a teenager, I was on tumblr a lot. It was the only social media I really had. And on tumblr I’d see a lot about people with ADHD and autism and about hyperfixating on things. And I’ve always kind of hyperfixated on stuff - I mean, football, obviously, but other stuff too, like how on my days off I’ll binge watch an entire season of a TV show and then not shut up about it for like, a month straight, and then I’ll lose interest and basically never mention it again.”

“Or like when you decided to start playing guitar and bought a guitar and had 2 lessons and then stopped, or like when you got really into gardening for a few weeks and bought all those plants and seeds and books about gardening and then realised it was the wrong time of year for half the things you wanted to plant?” Leah asked, an amused look in her eyes.

“Huh. Yeah, I guess those count too,” you said, frowning. “So, yeah, I hyperfixate on things. And I’ve only ever seen it mentioned together with ADHD and autism. But I always thought wow, that’s so crazy that I do that but I don’t have either of those!”

“I feel like I know where this is going,” Leah smiled. 

“Leah, what if I do have ADHD? I don’t think I have autism, I mean, I might, but I haven’t really looked into it yet, maybe I should-”

“One thing at a time, okay?” she laughed, putting a hand on your arm. “Y/n, we both know I am in no way qualified to tell you if you have ADHD or not. But I know you very well. We’ve known each other for what, 5, 6 years now? And it would not surprise me in the slightest if you have ADHD.”

“Really?” you asked, incredulous. “What makes you say that?”

“You mean, aside from what I just mentioned?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Last night? At the restaurant?” she gently reminded you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I may have also read up on the topic a bit. I kind of suspected you might have ADHD, but I didn’t want to bring it up until you did,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. You felt something flutter in your stomach at her confession. “Anyway, one of the things I read was that people with ADHD also struggle with overstimulation and sensory issues. Do you think that could be what happened last night?”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly quiet. “Maybe?”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just-”

“No, no, it’s okay! It’s just a lot to take in.” you told her. Your mind was racing, thoughts splitting off into dozens of other thoughts, some fully formed and some nothing more than singular words or phrases. 

You sat together in silence for a few minutes.

“What do I do now?” you asked Leah, your voice small. “I, um, I didn’t think I’d get this far. You’re the first person I’ve told, and I kind of expected you to tell me I’m being silly.”

“I would never say that,” she said, turning to look at you, her eyes fixed on yours. “I wouldn’t say that about something important to you, I promise. And as for what to do now, well, I guess you have a few options. You can keep going as you have been, and do some more research, if you want, and try to figure it out alone. Well, not alone. You’ve got me. Or you could speak to someone, a professional. See if your hunch is right.”

“And then?”

“I dunno, I guess that’s up to you. I suppose they’d be able to help you with coping mechanisms, or put you on medication, if that’s what you wanted,” she shrugs. 

“Medication?” you asked. Your mind was full of pictures of hyperactive kids, bouncing off the walls. You propped your feet up on the bench, pulling your knees in close to your chest. “What if I’m wrong? What if there’s nothing wrong with me and I’m just being dramatic?”

“Then that’s okay, too,” Leah said firmly. “Then you’re just dramatic, but that’s okay, too. I promise.”

You nodded, resting your chin on your knees.

"Would you be able to help me find someone to talk to? I don't know how, or where, or, anything, really," you asked.

"Of course," she said, putting her arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. "I'll help in any way I can."

#hannah writes fics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson fluff #adhd #woso fanfics #woso #woso x reader #awfc #woso imagine #woso fanfic

[thebibliosphere]

So, I've been getting a few "hey, so now you're fixed, you're going to write books faster now, right?" type messages, and hmmm. That's a loaded word right there. "Fixed."

Yeah, not too keen on that word.

What I assume these people mean to do is congratulate me on finding out a major cause of distress and illness in my life and offer well wishes for my continued relief and recovery. I assume that's what was really meant. But just to entertain the first part of that ask, no, I am not "fixed."

There is no "fixing" the kind of chronic illness or disabilities I have. My ailments are genetic and lifelong, and if you're new here, newly diagnosed at the start of the pandemic, so my treatment thus far has been limited. Most of it is things I have pieced together myself.

That I've been able to do anything over the last year when I suffered 215+ migraine days on top of the connective tissue disorder I have, and the other condition that causes spontaneous anaphylaxis--not to mention the unmedicated ADHD I cannot treat with meds (yet)--is nothing short of miraculous.

So, now that my migraines are improving thanks to finding out I have binocular vision disorder on top of all the other stuff, will I be writing books faster?

I can only hope so.

But I also cannot say, "yes, absolutely, one book a year from here on out," because I just do not have the physical and mental capacity to guarantee that. Nor am I going to inflict that kind of mental and physical torture on myself (again) because it's the exact kind of thing that causes my health to crash and burn. And here's the thing:

Every time I burn myself out. Every time I push myself too far to keep up, it takes longer and longer to recover. The harder I push myself, the fewer books I will produce. That's the truth of it.

So I get it, it's frustrating. You want more of the fun thing (and thank you so much for loving what I do!), but you'll have to bear with me a little bit longer.

I am finding my stride as a multiply disabled creator, and I've spent the last two years untangling the guilt and imposter syndrome I experience over being "popular" but not being well enough to produce work at the same pace as everyone else around me.

I have worked out a system that I hope will be sustainable instead of leading to the continuous cycle of burnout I was trapped in for 10+ years as an editor. I have safety nets and supports in place that I didn't have before, and hopefully, those will help too. Time will tell.

Am I excited to get back to work? Absolutely. I'm ecstatic at the prospect of having fewer migraine days and more coherent brain days. But I'm also going to take my time to enjoy the process as well. I'd like to enjoy the things I write too. And I hope you can appreciate that.

So thank you for understanding, and for your patience. If you decide you can't wait, I'll understand. But please don't send authors, even able-bodied, neurotypical ones, messages like that. It's unkind. And I don't think any of you mean to be unkind.

#personal #author stuff #I really hope this doesn't come off as nasty #but the word 'fixed' is making the depression gremlins rabid #and I needed to say something

[sadiewayne]

are you more or less likely to like the percy jackson show if you have adhd?

TL;DR at the bottom

this whole idea came about because i was seeing people complain about the pacing of the show and i was so confused because i thought the pacing was perfect and then i thought maybe it's because i have adhd and so of course i would think the pacing was great and so i ran a poll to look at the results and here are those results

important things to note

a) i have adhd (diagnosed)

b) i study a stem degree

ok here we go

short answer

statistically no, but i disagree (i'll get to it)

longer answer

i did a poll comparing if you have adhd and if you like the show, these were the results (and here so you can see how i wanted people to answer)

(yes i voted, my opinion also counts)(and yes, there are flaws in the design but i only had 12 options and this was mainly about adhd)

and idk about you but looking at those numbers i can see a few things

number 1: most people like the show, 87.8% in fact

and if you take out the people that didn't care, it's 92.9% of people who did care aka a lot

quick stats rundown

for everyone with adhd (thats the first 6 options) 3% didn't like the show

for those with other neurodiversities and not adhd, it was 12%

yeah, thats 4 times higher (it works out at a whole 2 people but again, limits of the poll)

ANYWAY, i ran some statistical tests (don't stress, i don't understand them either, i will not be focussing on them)

first, chi squared (compares expected values for each option with the actual values i got)

yeah that number is small, like very small, like 2.8 quintillionths

but i ran it in R and got a very different number

and oh lookie here that's a p-value about 0.05 and so we must accept the null hypothesis (basically that yeah, that's expected)

which makes NO SENSE but whatever, the computer tells me it's that

enough of chi-squared, i also ran a z-test (i googled what to do and apparently this was the right test, idk what it does ngl)

i didn't run this one in R bc i have no idea how to do that

but the p-value is again, about 0.05 and so accept that there is no significant difference

BUT I DISAGREE

ok i don't disagree with the stats but i disagree that there isn't a difference

it doesn't take a genius to see the difference

3% of people with adhd didn't like the show but 12% of other nd's did like-

come on that has to mean something

so i ran a chi squared test on just the adhd data and...

1.9 octillionths

wha-

so did it in R and got a warning saying it probably wasn't accurate (it's probably the 0) so i ran fishers exact test (idk man thats what i was told to run by the internet) and got this...

so errrrrr yeah

apparently the same goes for the adhd data to which i can kind of get but also dont when

0.6% of people didn't like the show and were diagnosed as an adult but 1.2% didn't like the show and were self-diagnosed, with almost the same number of votes (it works out as a 1 person difference)

and no one who was diagnosed as a child disliked it like WHAT?!?!?!

also no neurotypicals disliked it, love y'all for that /gen

idk, i think the sample size is too small to run accurate tests, that or im doing it wrong which is a very high probability

so whilst statistically, the answer is no, i'm seeing a pattern emerge

but i am a scientist so i cannot say yes or no which SUCKS bc i see a pattern and i want to know MORE but tumblr doesn't have a great mechanism for polls so i can't ask all the questions i want to

TL;DR

the stats say there's no significant difference and so i must concur even if i don't want to

the show was amazing and i'm very excited for season 2 for reasons i don't want to spoil for people who haven't read the book (but go read the books they are just as good)

#i had too much fun with this #percy jackson #percy series #percy pjo #percyjackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo #pjo tv show #percy jackson show #adhd #neurodivergent #poll #polls #fandom polls #tumblr poll #tumblr polls #stats #poll stats #statistics #fandom #fandom things

[cordycepsfem]

Pageboy - Let's Do This Thing

In keeping with my brand of, well, Ellen-posting, since my name is Ellie, I thought I'd continue Ellen-posting by reading a book by someone who used to be named Ellen and doing a review of said book for radblr. I'm going to break it up into chunks so you're not faced with giant posts of me rambling or EP rambling.

I would like to say that I feel like there are very few 30-somethings who should be writing memoirs. I've had a pretty exciting thirty-ish years on the planet and I don't think I'm qualified to write a memoir - not because it wouldn't be full of interesting, beautiful, life-changing, sometimes horrible things but because I'm only thirty-ish. I prefer memoirs by people who've lived a bit longer - but again, this is only my preference. I don't read a lot of memoirs as a whole, I guess.

Anyway.

Ellie's Read and Review of Pageboy (Part One)

Author's Note

EP is "grateful and terrified" because trans people "face increasing physical violence" and "our humanity is regularly 'debated' in the media" (citations not given)

the book would not have been written without the "health care" she received, which seems weird because what she describes in the first paragraph about not being able to write seems like ADHD and instead of taking Adderall and being seen by a therapist she took testosterone and had her breasts surgically removed

quotes Leslie Feinberg who, among other things, was a very serious pronoun enthusiast (as evident by Feinberg's Wikipedia page, no I'm not being sarcastic here, just go read it and tell me I'm not wrong)

I want to be a jackass about the last paragraph of the author's note but even I don't have it in me, because it makes sense and is kind.

Chapter One

EP meets someone named Paula and falls in love with her and they do mushrooms together

She thinks about Paula on her trip through Europe

They go to a gay bar

This line hit far harder than it had any right to:

She kisses Paula and it's marvelous

Chapter Two

The Village Voice writes a shitty article about EP calling her a "dyke" after Juno comes out

which is a name she was called many times growing up in Canada

EP played soccer and once went to a tournament in a town I would visit some twenty-odd years later for very different reasons

this is important because she rooms with a girl she has a crush on

she tries to come out to this girl as bisexual

the girl says "no you're not" and then her friends make fun of EP

I learn that Tim Horton's has bagels, which confuses me but is in fact true

EP's grandmother asks her father what they're going to do if it turns out EP is gay

the lines in this chapter that punched me in the chest:

because fuck yeah I was a fucked up kid who didn't plan to live much beyond age 18, EP, I see you

fame is not what EP thought it might be; she doesn't want to wear a dress to things but somehow they tell her she has to and she isn't allowed to say no (which I get, and is not great, but eventually you need to be able to say no and do what you want)

another magazine in Canada asks if she's gay

Paula from Chapter One is seen with her and it's speculated they're in a relationship; Paula's not out to her family and so things are all very sad and EP feels like she will never be free to be who she is

At this point I am just sad. I came out later in my life (22), and was diagnosed with gender dysphoria much later (33), but at age 12 after a lifetime of wearing dresses and having my hair the way my mother wanted it, I stopped letting that happen. I started to wear what I want. I grew out my hair. I learned about makeup and shaving and for a little bit bought into it and then said "fuck no," which I continue to do to this day because it's bullshit.

Who in EP's life thought it wasn't okay for her to wear pants, and why didn't she or someone else stop them? I've obviously never been a famous actor but as an actor aren't you the person in charge of what happens to your image? Why wasn't her publicist or her agent on her side?

I had a lot of good people in my life who made me believe in a future for myself. Sometimes they had to carry me physically through what was happening to make sure I made it to that future, and I'm here today because those people didn't give up on me. Where were those people in EP's life?

There are things about the EP situation that make me bow in over my ribcage. It's just sad, and seeing paths others take that look like they make sense to everyone but which seem to say something entirely different when looked at upside down... which is a rambling way of saying that it's almost 4 am and someone should have told EP she could have been a happy lesbian who wears pants without having her breasts surgically removed and taking cross-sex hormones.

Anyway, the laundry's done, more later.

#ellie's EP posting #pageboy readthrough #radical feminism #terfs do touch #radblr

[fishsticksloser]

A hc of reader sister (little sister) who loves using memes sound effects to communicate with the family instead of her talk like " bruh " or " why are you running? ".

And it's fun because it makes everyone laugh.

Meme!Younger Sibling

RotTMNT & gn!reader

Warnings: swearing, platonic fluff, what you say is in green

A/N: They are meme connoisseurs, Raph doesn't understand, but is supportive. Coloring the words took way longer than I thought... I have a 6 hour car ride to the hospital so ask away!

Previous  |  Next

You got your taste in memes from your brothers

Leo and Donnie definitely have the most knowledge in memes

"Tight! So let me be, I'm here to give you customer service. and I'll set you free! (right)"

"Reese's Puffs! Reese's Puffs! Reese's Puffs! Reese's Puffs! Eat 'em up! Eat 'em up! Eat 'em up! Eat 'em up!"

It's almost completely random

They've learned not to ask what you're doing...

"Hey, what are you doing Waiting for them to play Gangnam Style..."

Mikey and Leo participate the most

At one point you were really into Bully Maguire memes

Raph was terrified of you

"I'm gonna put some dirt in your eye... W-What!? What did I do?"

Remember that video of the country guy standing on his truck with Nunchaku?

Yeah... That's a you and Mikey staple

"Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top. Sunkissed so hot it'll melt your popsicle!"

You, Leo, and Donnie are the most chaotic about it

Raph and Mikey are a little annoyed by the meme bond you guys have

"I got a plane! I got a plane! I love the fame! I love the fame! You know my name! You know my name!"

Being the 2 youngest, though, you and Mikey have something you will never have with the others

and that's having unlimited meme potential

"It's wizard time, motherfucker! Fire Ball!!"

Raph was very upset about this... ^^^

You are probably the only one allowed to chill in Donnie's lab because of your shared love of certain memes

He vocally stims in his lab and I have a feeling a lot of those are memes

"Wow... Your raps are too wack to handle. Let's do this like we do on the Discovery Channel!"

Leo is the one you go to if you want to recreate some dance you saw on TikTok

And he's very good... It should be a crime

Leo also quotes the Pedro Pascal edit that went around...

"How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I got a 6 pack of cold ones all nice and my roomies out all night, so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar."

Is anyone surprised by that though?

"Aren't you excited? You're going to the airport tomorrow! Ehrpohort? I'm not going to the ehrpohort."

Although Raph isn't that knowledgeable in memes, he does know some

"Excuse me, brah. You're excused.... But I'm not your brah..."

Just random things they'd quote:

"I'm almost proud of you... That's the most proud of me you've ever been!"

"Give me back my gamer girl!"

"Material girl!"

"Just got diagnosed with cool guy syndrome... Now I take Adderall!"

"Ugh, you can't sit with us. Actually, Leo, I can't sit anywhere, I have hemorrhoids..."

"Look at all those chickens!"

"Is this an internal dialogue? I can't see the end of the horizon... Hastune Miku!?"

"Its really cute how you're going to defeat me with the power of friendship, but again, I am da Devil... From da Bible..."

"Hey~... What's up... It's me!"

"Whopper. Whopper. Whopper. Whopper. Junior, Double, Triple Whopper. Flame Grilled taste with perfect toppers. I rule- I rule this day!"

"You're an asshole, Leo. You are what you eat, Donnie." I'm so sorry...

"Freddy, you're supposed to be on lock down... VanessaAAAAAA!" When he's been working in the lab too much

"Nah, nah, nah nah. Nah, nah, nah nah, yeah. You're are the music in me! You know the words 'once upon a time' make you listen... There's a reason!"

"HOLD ON! HOLD ON! SO HER SISTER WAS A WITCH, RIGHT!? AND WHAT WAS HER SISTER? A PRINCESS! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST, BRO... I'm gonna stab him..."

"Laloyd? That's right! It's me, your son! And it's Lloyd, Dad! No. L-l-o-y-d. I named you. You ruined my life! How can I ruin your life? I wasn't even there!"

#rottmnt #rise raph #rise leo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise disaster twins #rise donnie #rise donatello #rise mikey #rise michelangelo #tmnt donatello #donatello #teenage mutant ninja turtles donnie #donnie tmnt #donnie hamato #tmnt michelangelo #michelangelo hamato #leonardo teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leonardo #leonardo hamato #tmnt raphael #raphael hamato #{fish answers•°} #{snipersiniora•°}

[thotsforvillainrights]

Hiii I hope your pregnancy is going oh so smooth!! (I am curious have you had any weird cravings or anything? If so what’s your favorite one?)

And Can dad twice and jun return? (Imagine if the reader dyed juns hair half grey and half black like twices mask)

(Anon, I'm putting the baby info at the end below a line so it doesn't junk up the ask for you! So anyone wanting info on the pregnancy so far, hit read more line!)

(AND HELL YEAH! DAD TWICE MAKES A RETURN!)

~Mini Makeover~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-The first dad!Jin content was done about a year or two ago so let's touch back down on that in case anyone has forgotten! Again, Jin is the best dad ever on top of being the best spouse. Ever since Jun was born (or adopted), she'd had him in his corner at all times. Should she ever need anything in the world, he'll be there without question for her. She is in fact the center of his entire world...or dare I say his universe!

-On top of everything else, she's very spoiled but lacks a nasty attitude you'd expect to come along with it thankfully. He's been trying to take it down a notch for a very long time, and is just now managing to learn how to say no to her. Of course it crushes every bit of him to do so, but he knows it's important to be done occasionally. One of the things he's been wrestling with is her altering her appearance at such a young age.

-Jun has budded from a silly and curious 2 year old to an independent 4 year old with a big voice. She speaks her little mind and doesn't lack any confidence no matter the situation at hand. So that's why when she came home from school in a gloomy mood, you were admittedly both worried sick about her. With some careful prying you were able to get a good handle on what happened. There was a new little girl in her class today and supposedly the kid was very popular with the others. Her defining trait you ask? The rainbow colored dye hair.

-So with a kids this young it's understandable everyone would be excited to see hair like that. It was a long night after you'd put Jun to bed. You were the one that tried to convince Jin to let her go through with it and man was he stubborn as hell with you for the first time since dating. He was concerned about the chemicals or the dangers of doing it. On top of that, he didn't want he to lose confidence in her natural features at such a young age or become obsessed with having to change herself for the approval of others. "She doesn't need tom change her hair. It's already two toned." He referred to her natural singular blonde streak she possessed.

-After pulling out every single tactic you had to use against him (yes...that too) you were finally able to convince him to let you dye her hair. The very next day was a Saturday and the weekend. You and Jun had went to the store to find some non-toxic and kid friendly hair dye along with a few cute accessories and some new shoes too. You'd returned home and kissed Jin on the cheek as a thank you for letting you do it. He had to admit it made his heart flutter when he watched his daughter rush past him into the bathroom to eagerly go through with the process.

-When she'd emerged she seemed even more confident than ever before. He sighed a bit of relief to notice it didn't seem all that bad either. She'd chosen a half black half grey dye job because apparently it reminded her of 'daddy's mask' (which obviously made his heart swell with warmth all over again for his little girl. You'd decided Monday to let him pick her up from school so he could get whatever details on her day she would give him. It seemed to be the right choice since he'd come home smiling more widely than her. There wasn't a thing in the world that could bring him down when he knows his child is happy.

*TW for me talking too much about personal stuff*

(Oh anon things are a little rough but this ask was sent in a while back so it's when we didn't know. But in case anyone else was wondering, the baby has been diagnosed with like 3 different heart deformities and will need surgery as soon as he's born. Like within the first week of birth, and has to be put on a special medication. Meanwhile, my husband and I have essentially been scheduled a crap ton of doctor appointments both in town AND and hour/and half away from home as well. I'll have to give birth in my state's main hospital instead of the one home so that means I won't be close to family. The baby will have to heal in the ICU for a month straight so I lost my opportunity at a happy pregnancy, the newborn phase, and any hope for skin to skin contact after birth. Whew what a mouthful! Anyway, I'm taking it one day at a time, and I appreciate you and anyone that checks in on me here and there!)

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mun speaks #league of villains #jin bubaigawara #twice bnha #dad!jin #headcanons

[sciderman]

(This is my personal hcs for your peter as an autistic person so feel free fo disregard)

Tbh I’ve always gotten SERIOUS autistic vibes from peter/pos. SO many different points in ask spideypool have made me make an assortment of autistic hc and it is very fun. Like for example when he infodumps about science (that one ask where pete is rambling about his web shooters holding 43% more web fluid and being SUPER excited about it is. So so dear to me.) And he doesn’t always 100% catch the tones in conversation. His brain being described as always moving and thinking so it was sometimes hard to get through it all. Bullying (yeah…. Yeah.)

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I relate to Pete a lot in a very Nuerodivergant(tm) way and even if you didn’t write him that way intentionally, I still care about it a lot and I thank you for all of the work you do!! Remember to take breaks, take care of yourself, and remember there are so many people who love you <3

i adore you and adore your hc anon!! thank you so much for your kind words!! i'm so glad you resonate with peter on that level because he too is a very neurodivergent boy (whomst i adore so greatly)

i've spoken a little bit about how i feel like a lot of peter parkers are autistic-coded - and i have a post where i talk about my personal diagnoses of peter and wade if you're interested!

take care of yourself too anon! sending you so very many love

#ask-spiderpool #meta

[hazel2468]

Ok I gotta bitch about something real quick here.

So, good news first- got a diagnosis. PCOS. I had a feeling (and several of my friend are now correct), but it's good to have a solid "Yeah, this is what's going on here".

But anyway. Kvetch time.

So, my endo is pretty great. She offered to hook me up with their gender specialist, so I might be getting the ball rolling on that soon, which is exciting and terrifying. But we had a call and went over everything. More good news- my levels look great. Everything is normal and my thyroid levels are, quote, "beautiful". But we started talking about PCOS, talked a little bit about HRT. And then she brought up diet stuff, which I imagine is standard.

But what annoyed me was that she was talking about how to adjust what I eat because of "health risks". And so I asked her to clarify for me- is there anything in my labs of concern? And she said no- everything looks fine and dandy. I asked if there is any indication that I should be making any kind of serious changes based on my labs. Again, no. Everything looks good.

So... The only "issue" there is my weight.

My levels are good. I've been in a bit of an experimental "what can I eat that won't upset the void where my gallbladder used to be?" phase, but overall I've been eating the same as I have for years. I did tell her I wanted to work out more and, now that I'm fucking finally fixing my sleep schedule I might actually be able to make time to lift in the mornings.

But what annoyed me was that all of that stuff- good stuff- eating in a way that doesn't upset my intestines, working out more because fuck it I wanna be a strong theydy, the fact that my labs are not only normal but look great... All of it just falls before the fact that I am fat. All of it.

And to be clear, I'm not pissed at my doctor, specifically. I'm pissed because all of it seems so standard. It's the "this is the PCOS spiel" kind of thing- the general stuff that you say. And the annoying thing is that, apparently (and I was already well aware of this but it always sucks to be reminded), it doesn't actually matter what my habits are, what I eat, if I work out or not, how my labs look, at least in the eyes of the general medical standards.

No, what matters is that I am fat, and therefore I am unhealthy and need to change everything- even though literally everything else speaks to the contrary.

And what's even MORE annoying is that... I have PCOS. I have hypothyroid. Those are BOTH conditions that cause weight gain. Those are both conditions that make losing weight even harder than it already fucking is for most people.

So the fact that the medical standards for diagnosing someone with PCOS involve looking at their BMI and determining that they need to change their whole lifestyle solely based on how they look- not on their actual habits, not on their ACTUAL LAB RESULTS, but their weight?

IDK that just annoys me. It pisses me off. It put a damper on the whole "You have an answer finally AND also you're doing really well health wise.... OH but you're fat and so we need to lecture you about your diet and exercise and imply that the reason you should do those things is to lose weight."

#fatphobia #medical fatphhobia #like if anything #if working out goes the way I want it to #i'll probably fucking GAIN weight #because I want my muscles back #like I wish every doctor could be like my gastro #because that man managed to talk to me about diet and exercise #and NOT ONCE #not ONE SINGLE TIME #make it about weight loss #it was 100% all about what would make me feel good #what would be good for my gallbladder/ lack of a gallbladder #what would be easy on my intestines #everything was about making me more comfortable #and keeping me feeling good #NONE of it was about oh this will help you be less fat #and I wish more docs would be like that #and like ok not to ramble in the tags but like #i would 100% understand if my doc was like hey #your cholesterol is high or something #we need to adjust here #but my labs were like #basically perfect #everything within normal ranges #thyroid SMACK in the middle oh it was so nice to see #there was nothing in my labs AT ALL #that indicated anything was wrong #and yet somehow #clearly

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 10.2

“Go, go, go,” Lucy urged, whisper quiet.  Snowdrop and Avery came down from upstairs, their eyes the inverted white pupils, pink irises and black surface of Snowdrop’s Sight.  Lucy gave them a nod, then guided Melissa toward the door that went from inside Edith’s cabin to the porch.

interesting. Why are they back here? And why bring Melissa?

Avery had made it a fair bit ahead of their group, but that was what Avery always did, Snowdrop was close to Avery, and Lucy had been ahead of Melissa, waiting for Melissa to catch up.  Putting Melissa at the rear of the pack, closest to Nibble and least able to run away.

this is why we need Verona here, she can be trusted to lag behind the group

Nibble went on, “She’s close to being Aware, if she isn’t there already, but she has the inherent innocence you can’t give up unless you…”

I'd hope that having an innocent there would fend off the witch hunter, but I think he probably doesn't care. And not being a practitioner or Other means he doesn't have to worry about the karmic backlash as much

“Melissa, please,” Lucy urged.  She paused, trying to think of what to say or what to ask for, then said, “please.”

I like how bad Lucy is at reasoning with Melissa

“How do we set the table without ringing the bell?” Avery asked.  “Melissa?” Melissa was standing by, watching, a frown on her face. “Table?”

I'm lost too.

oh, no I figured it out! They want to use the diagnoses tools Nicolette showed in the extra materials to figure out what the bell does. Talk about a field test.

Lucy reached for the bell.  It swayed away from her hand as she got about a foot away. Avery tried. At about two feet, it started moving gently away from her hand, dangling, as if she was holding a strong magnet.

Guessing that having a familiar makes Avery more Other in a way that trips the alarm sooner?

Jack of diamonds, ace of diamonds, two of clubs, jack of diamonds. “That’s two of the same card. Did you mix two decks together?” Melissa asked. “Nope,” Avery said. “Defective production, maybe?” “What does it mean?” Lucy asked. “No idea.”

I know this is in reference to not knowing what the duplicated card means, but I love the idea of doing a fortune-telling spread of cards and just going "fuck if I know what that means"

Huh. I wonder if the duplicate card is because they're using a french deck of playing cards instead of tarot minor arcana, which is more what I'd think of for divination. It could be trying to map both the page and the knight of coins onto the jack of diamonds.

In which case, the elements are: fresh eyes, small steps, patient observation, enhanced endeavors due to resources (possibly swap the first and last entries). Which makes sense for these alarm detection bells!

“Do I get a love triangle?  There was that show where the girl found out she was a half centaur and that’s why she was so good at riding horses-” “I liked that one,” Avery said.

yeah that tracks

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why is this kid so obsessed with opossums?” Melissa asked.  “She’s worse than Caroline from school, with her horse obsession.  Hey, do you think Caroline watches the centaur show?”

I was thinking that this rambling seemed out of character for Melissa, who has consistently been more gloomy than annoyingly unfocused. And then I looked up codeine side effects, and restlessness and talking with uncontrollable excitement are both listed.

She laid the page on the ground, then reached over, finishing the core rune.  The triangle of air.  “For the protection of Kennet and its population, human and otherwise.” “We draw on what we’re owed,” Avery added.

Verona’s absence was very much felt.

But they picked up, and soon, all across the clearing, bells were chiming, each with a high, sweet sound that carried in a way that would let it be heard from a mile away.  Grass blew and trees swayed.

I'm returning here after a week hiatus while I was on vacation, and this visual stuck with me whenever I was thinking about Lucy

The Witch Hunter found his feet again.  One member of their group stayed down.

can't believe I paused for a week on this cliffhanger

“I mean, you’re into music and you have this… image?  A crafted self-image, you know what I mean?”  Alyssa floundered.  “Confident, specific style.  Reminded me of friends who were in a band.”

I bet you could use band as a collective noun for a group of practitioners

"You’re always going off to meet with your friends. They have similar images. Well, Avery more. Verona wasn’t so hot when she came by, but even with her, a bit.”

interesting that the kind of self-definition you do as a practitioners is noticeable to people in the mundane world. I wonder if it's just that you get used to putting forward a specific version of yourself even in normal circumstances, or if there's some reinforcement from spirits who you've shown what face you want to present

“Just… easier to think I was a screwed up, paranoid kid, than to think the world was that gross."

Thinking about something I read about how CBT? or maybe some other form of therapy often fails people of color, because it focuses on "stop being paranoid, the world isn't out to get you, that's just your anxiety etc. talking." But sometimes the world is out to get you!

“I’ve run into that.  People in dark places don’t always want to accept the help.  The darkness can be more comfortable.” An image of Verona darted through Lucy’s mind’s eye.

and in Verona's case, she doesn't have a better future (outside of becoming an Other) that she feels she can realistically aim at

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly a bundle of warmth and cuddles.” “You sure?” Alyssa asked, matching Lucy’s posture, elbow on table, hand on cheek. “You’ve got a lot of warmth reserved for your mom, Booker, and Verona.”

awww

Verona’s dad stood on the edge of the lawn, dropping off garbage at the curb.  He stopped as he saw her.  She stopped as she looked at him, wearing her fox form, breathing hard. Emotions roiled inside her, flaring, boiling up.

I think Booker going back to college is making this worse: Lucy was already feeling like the people in her inner circle are leaving, and now Verona is gone too.

Then he walked down the stairs, crossed the lawn while sliding the phone back to his pocket, and set the recycling bin down.  Almost as an afterthought, he said, “Hi, Lucy.” “Hi.” Then he turned to go back inside.

this is rude, but also very funny. Just not engaging with the angry 13 year old who just appeared where a weird fox was.

Start from compassion, Lucy thought, thinking of Alyssa’s words. “Fuck offffff!” Lucy raised her voice. “And fuck you!"

lol

She found Avery, who wore a jersey top with a sports bra, shorts, and her running shoes, hair down.  She had her bag slung over one shoulder.  It looked like Avery had grown up by a year or two in just the short time they’d been active.

Welcome to puberty! And also being under life-threatening stress basically nonstop for a few months. Both will age you!

“You wish this was all easier?  Mannn, you have no idea.  I have whole days, days I feel more shitty and miserable than I ever have, and my parents are bored, bored of me being sad.  And you know who’s more bored?”

... No, I think Avery and Lucy are still winning the "how bad are things going" competition

“That Melissa might be a trainwreck no matter what we do.  She’s getting into trouble no matter what, but at least she’ll be one we can sorta steer or manage if we step in.  And maybe she’ll even find some joy in it?”

I mean, trying to steer her away hasn't worked for the past six arcs, so.

“…I care about belonging to something.  I don’t belong to family, I don’t belong to the Dancers, I don’t fit in with all those older teens who’re drinking and shit.  I don’t belong to- there’s no- there’s no me to belong to, I don’t fit to anything.  I’m so lonely it feels like my heart doesn’t beat anymore.”

this sucks! The thing with Melissa is that she is incredibly annoying for our protagonists, and also is probably not in as much trouble as they are, which makes her complaining seem petty. But also she's right that her life got fucked up, and she's miserable, and it's a shitty situation to be in for anyone, especially at fourteen.

“Help us solve a mystery, Melissa,” Lucy said.  “Help us connect some dots, how’s that?” “You’re just using me, aren’t you?” Melissa asked. “A bit. But I also want to help and if this is your road to happiness… fuck it.”

huh. That could be one way to put thing together with the Carmine Beast murder. And I guess this explains why they take Melissa to Edith's cabin

“I’m not complaining,” Melissa said, mumbling a bit.  “I want to be used.  I want to be useful.  I want to be wanted.  Awesome.” I think it’s good we got you away from that party and those older boys, then, protective cousin or no, Lucy thought, looking back.

yeah

“I am in a very going-along state right now,” Melissa said, raising the bottle she still held.  “You have no idea.”

YEAH

She dug fingers into wet, sucking blood, and found it a tangle inside, stuff getting caught between her fingers, parts that felt like they were the way further in or between bits of internals until they really didn’t. Lucy snarled, pushing until her finger hurt, but a strand of something broke and she could work her hand in, nearly wrist deep. Fishing, groping, searching for something. A bit of solid, no, that was deceptively tense tissue. She growled, face contorting, as she pushed her hand in deeper, another inch of give.  It was so hot inside.

this is also a place where Verona is missed

You’re doing more than being slow, Lucy thought. Melissa had found something.

OwO?

“I have.  Most of us have.  People, broken by them, until we’re a little more and a little less person.  I’m honorable.  If you step out of my way, I’ll give you five percent.”

I was hoping Melissa's presence would dissuade the Witch Hunter. Seems to be working a bit? And his training must have had a hell of a lot of work dehumanizing practitioners, because there's zero hesitation in viewing Lucy as an enemy combatant/monster despite her being very human.

“My own fault.” “Is that what they told you?” he asked. “No. Not at all. This is all what they’ve set up and made over centuries. It’s only your fault according to them, because that’s how they arranged it.”

I mean yes, in the sense that this is the way the world works (and damage Nicolette did) and isn't anything wrong that Melissa did. No, in the sense that this isn't something that the Kennet Trio in particular set up. Or that anyone arranged on purpose!

"And to you… Lucy or Melissa, it’s not your fault.  There’s better ways and better things.  I can tell you things they never will, and show you ways to deal with the threats that are going to be lurking in the shadows all your life.  I can show you how to feel empowered again.  I’ll be around.  I’ll come to you if you come looking for me.  Whether you want answers or a ticket out of… this.”

well that's a hell of a temptation for Melissa. I hope that bonding experience investigating the murder cabin was good for her?

The syringe was sturdy, with fine, dark filigree all down the glass, denser toward the end with the needle.  Artistry that could only come from the one place.  Inside was a oily slick of darkness, glistening, strands and clumps gathering into shapes suggestive of body parts.  And one blob of white that moved through it, to the surface of the glass. The blob of white had a face. Edith’s.

what the fuck

ok, so Fae artistry on the syringe? and I'm guessing Maricica, since it's dark filigree. And that clump of darkness... it makes me think Alpeana, but I'm hoping it's from someone else.

And why is there a blob of Edith in this? was the syringe extracted from her? Why? Who is it meant to inject? are they going to put Edith into a host who will become the Carmine Judge?

#booksandchainmail reads pale #pale #wildbow

[alj4890]

On the Run

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) I'm a Choices Open Heart Drabble for Day 6 of Tobias Appreciation Week

A/N Just a short drabble of Chris seeing what kind of doctor Tobias is once he's at Edenbrook.

Rating: G for fluff.

@tobias-carrick-appreciation-week @jerzwriter @hopelessromantic1352 @choicesficwriterscreations @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

It took a while, but soon there were certain sounds that Dr. Chris Valentine became familiar with over the course of a few months. The soft whirring noise of the robots Leland Bloom had on every floor to help the nurses became the norm as Chris went from one patient's room to the next. Laughter from the children's ward each time Sienna and Rafael were working there. And of course the sounds of a particular doctor running down the hallway no longer made her heart pound in fear.

Tobias Carrick had a way of making everything exciting for Chris. His method of jogging through the hallway was meant to keep the interns on their toes. It reminded them that time was something most patients didn't have.

"Plus," he told her late one night, "it gives you a chance to admire the man you plan on marrying."

Chris did indeed take the time to pause and watch him in action. As much as she loved seeing how his mind worked in diagnosing the difficult, often undetectable maladies, watching his body get from point A to point B to allow that brilliant brain of his a chance to shine was almost as equally impressive.

She knew it wasn't a serious emergency when he flashed his smile her way. If he didn't or if he called her name as he ran past, she knew she needed to run after him to help out with whatever crisis was developing.

Once tensions between him and Ethan eased some more, Chris would often see the two make an impressive team as they ran from the diagnostic office to a ward their latest patient had been placed in.

One day at lunch, Chris asked Aurora about if he'd been that way at Mass Kenmore.

Aurora rolled her eyes. "You mean the running? Yeah, he did it all the time. Me and a few other interns had to huff and puff our way into most rooms, just to be in time to review cases."

"How was he as a mentor?" Chris asked.

"What do you mean?"

"We both were critiqued by Inez, Zaid, and Ethan. Those three couldn't be more different. What is Tobias like?"

Aurora set her fork down as she considered that. "I wouldn't say he is as sweet as Inez, but he also wasn't glaring at you either like Zaid. He isn't insulting like how Ethan could get. In fact, he basically uses his bedside manner with his interns."

"So he's a charming, funny mentor?" Chris asked.

"Pretty much." Aurora focused once more on her lunch. "He has no problem taking the time to guide an intern toward the correct conclusions for diagnoses and treatments."

Chris assumed as much. Most doctors went to Tobias with a question more so than they did Ethan. He was simply more approachable.

****************

Later that evening in the diagnostics office...

"Hey." Chris leaned down behind Tobias to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Hey." He leaned back to meet her lips in a quick kiss. "You finished for the night?"

"I am." She rested her chin on his shoulder. "You?"

"Not quite." He gestured toward the laptop in front of him. "I've got a few things I need to show Ethan before I head home."

"You want me to wait?"

"No." He patted her arms still draped over him. "I'm not sure how long this will take."

"What are you working on?" Chris narrowed her eyes at the screen.

"I'm doing like you insisted."

She read a few of the convoluted lines. A delighted smile bloomed in the process.

"You're finally writing about your finding a cure to the maitotoxin!" She squeezed him in a hug.

"Why do you sound more excited about this than when I proposed?" Tobias teased.

Chris laughed as she pulled a chair up beside his. "Because you'll finally be getting the recognition you deserve!"

He shook his head. "I'm not doing it for that. I'm doing it to share the process of how I formulated the cure in case that helps some other doctor down the road figure out a way to find one for another toxin that doesn't have one."

"Which is how all doctor's takes should be when getting published."

He scoffed, fighting a grin over her compliments.

She propped her chin on her hand while watching him begin to type once more.

"Not that I mind being stared at, especially by you." He winked at her. "But you are very distracting."

"When do I get to read it?" Chris asked.

"You want to?" His smile dimmed. "I thought after going through it, you'd probably want to forget about it as much as you can."

"Of course I want to read not only what my hero did but also proudly show everyone I find what my soon to be husband wrote!" She snorted. "Just try and stop me."

His hand found hers as he took a deep breath.

"I'm not going to lie, Chris. This has been the hardest thing I've ever had to write."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm having to write this in a cold, clinical, completely detached fashion." His fingers laced with hers. "We both know that wasn't the case."

Chris lifted their clasped hands to press a lingering kiss upon his knuckles.

"I know." She said softly.

His eyes traced over her face. He could still remember the immense panic he felt when he found out what happened to her. Since they'd been keeping their relationship a secret at the time, he wasn't able to break down or curse with each failure. He couldn't tell the other doctors that she was the love of his life and he couldn't face the future without her.

He'd had to stay focused, not think too much about the precious minutes ticking by, and start once more on an antidote.

Writing it brought back every single torturous second of that day.

"Since Ethan's had more experience than I have with being published, he's been helping me with the mechanics and such."

"Good." Chris got to her feet. "Then I'll leave you alone so that you can get some work done."

A startled laugh escaped her lips when he yanked her down in his lap for a kiss.

What was meant to be a playful kiss goodbye changed the moment Tobias gently cupped her face.

Chris sighed into the tender, sweet way his lips moved over hers. It reminded her of the kiss he'd given her the moment he could enter quarantine safely.

Tobias pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed as he simply soaked in the warmth and vitality of her soft body. He needed that reminder now that he was at the part of going in depth with the symptoms of the maitotoxin and their effects on the human body.

Chris remained in his lap, knowing he needed her to be quiet as he dealt with being haunted once more from that horrific time in their lives.

He opened his eyes and met her steady gaze.

"Am I interrupting?" Ethan asked from the doorway.

"Not at all." Tobias kissed her cheek then released her from his hold. "Chris was just telling me she was on her way home."

"Ah." Ethan "Then I'll see you in the morning, Chris."

"Don't work too long." She ordered them both.

"No promises." Tobias replied.

She placed her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed as she stared them both down.

"Geez." Ethan laughed, nudging Tobias with his elbow. "I've never been more happy not to be you."

"You know I won't stay long." Tobias reminded her.

"Better not." She warned.

Chris motioned subtly for Ethan to step out in the hallway.

"Hang on a minute, Chris." Ethan called out when he realized she didn't want Tobias to know. "I need to ask your opinion about Jennifer Stanley's red blood cell count."

He told Tobias he'd be right back, as he followed her out the door.

Chris glanced back at the office then smiled at Ethan. "Thank you for this."

"For what?"

"For helping him write this. I know he wouldn't do it with just anyone, so thank you for encouraging him." She replied.

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nothing. It isn't like I'm doing much other than helping occasionally with the wording."

She knew he didn't see it and Tobias probably didn't either. But she believed that their working on this after hours would help them rebuild the friendship they'd both once enjoyed.

"I know, but still. Thank you, Ethan." She said, waving goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He watched her disappear through the hallway's double doors, a slight smile on his face, then went back into the office to get back to work.

#tobias x chris #tobias carrick x mc #tobias carrick appreciation week #tobias carrick #choices open heart #choices the stories you play #choices oh #choices fic writers creations

[fragileizywriting]

"it won't hurt," (dl) marinette teases, grabbing for his arm. his wrist alone is bigger than her own fist, but she tries anyway, counting the freckles that dot such a sun-kissed skin. her adrien doesn't have these freckles. so, so similar, yet just a little bit different. "look at the size difference between us both," she continues, smoothing a thumb over the fine whisps of hair. "you think my thumb is going to kill you?"

(sas) adrien winces on instinct, ginger and sore, when that very thumb digs right at the muscle that is hard like a brick. his voice comes out breathy and wheezy. "i'm almost positive your adrien is absolutely whipped when it comes to you, and probably bottoms for you more than i can ever imagine. your fingers are talented."

"i'm good at taking knots out," she lobbies, putting a little bit of pressure and increasing it until he jumps.

this adrien isn't her adrien. he's a human, and a superhero, and even though he's in his twenties now, he's still childlike whenever he smiles. just like her adrien, the sun emmanates from him, giving him a dewy glow, warmth in his green eyes, but he's a boy, and a human, and she's so, so fond of him.

outside of those flashy, leather-like supersuits, adrien hides the bulk of his arms and his chest behind soft linen shirts and silk ties. they're all dressed a little different, here in this new world, because they need to blend in. women don't wear pants here. kitty's not having the greatest time with it, even though they've distracted her by giving her fun, spinny dresses, but the girl wants to do all the cartwheels in the world outside in the front lawn, so they compromise and let her do whatever she wants provided that the moment they have to leave the farm, she dresses so that no one picks out the strangeness of her outfit. blending in is important.

it doesn't stop akumas from attacking, though, and after that particular attack earlier today, marinette had spotted adrien wincing about his elbow. rolling his eyes when kitty calls him out on it, saying that he's just sore because of that one arm wrestling contest he did with luka a few days ago.

yeah, okay. she knows when an adrien is lying.

so. like any good nurse, she checks it out. later on, she'll have her adrien help her diagnose him, or at least take another guess at it with her— he's been reading through all the textbooks she's bought for her licesnse, having fun with it and even giving his own tales about his experience with cadavers at home— and he'll be more than excited to help figure out what's wrong.

human adrien— oh this cute man— doesn't take it easy when she presses down on his skin. he's not a yelper, but he's a squirmer, trying to hide the clip in his brows when she squeezes and rolls her thumb against tight knots.

"when's the last time you drank water?" she asks.

"uhm..."

she looks up with a smile. "been a while, huh?"

"a little," he tries. he's not having a good time with this, not at all. brave face aside, he's about to whimper or shout or pull away, but does neither, because he's doing his best to play it cool. "but i usually drink some."

"you drink more coffee than water."

"that's possible."

she threads their fingers together with another hand, still cupping his elbow with her right. his fingers are huge compared to hers, and buffed nails prick the back of her knuckles when they fold their fingers over each other's hands. slowly, she pushes on his hand until he's making a position reminicent of a judo fighting style. hand bent back, perpendicular to his wrist, pushing pushing pushing as slowly and softly as possible, as if she's trying to get the backs of his knuckles to touch his forearm, this forces the very muscle that has a knot in it to scrunch and squeeze, juuuust where 'forearm' slowly transitions into 'elbow', and he winces even more.

brachioradialis.

huh.

"lift any weights outside of your supersuit, baby?"

"a bit."

of course he does. the boy is jacked. is it every single adrien's normal state to be this strong? or has she met the only three in all these multiverses that are?

"too much, too often?" she asks, turning his arm over so she can see the more vulnerable side of his forearm. his skin is ever-so-slightly paler here, not at all noticeable. very soft. she checks with her thumb there.

"i try not to, i can't afford to feel sore."

"has that changed recently?"

"maybe?" he doesn't sound convinced. "i... i guess? i have a workout routine that i do pretty consistently."

"you've been stressed out."

"i try not to do that, either, but yeah. recently. a lot."

"and you missed a few days at the gym because of midterms?"

he's catching on, smart boy. "oh. do you think i atrophied a bit and i put too much weight?"

"even a week is enough to get the muscles to get sticky. and you're not drinking water," she continues. "staying up too late to study for grad school, only drinking coffee to stay awake."

he pinks. "uhm."

"now that you're working out after midterms, you're doing it dehydrated and with too much weight, trying to make up for wasted time— or rather, time that you think you wasted, because you're pushing yourself too hard? between dating, school, and the whole akuma business?"

"uh..."

she rolls her thumb against the affected muscle again with a knowing smile. "yeah, i thought so. baby, your arm is hurting because you're not taking care of yourself."

he sighs. "shoot. well, that's not great." then, with a smile, showing that he's not that disappointed, he asks: "what's hurting, doc?"

she snorts. "well, this part that's hurting is called brachioradialis." she puts pressure right where it hurts so he knows. "i'm going to ask my adrien to confirm if i'm right— he may find something different— but i think you get the idea on how you stressed it out."

"my pain— it's muscle?"

she nods. "it's muscle. you need to take it easy for a bit while it hurts," she offers. "let's get you some ice. i'm sure we can find some. you need to not stress out your fingers— the likely culprit of your pain— or your grip for a little while. holding barbells— that grip you get on something heavy— likely stressed it out too much. i'd tell you to 'RICE' it, but it might be a little hard given that paracetamol doesn't exist here. we'll try anyway." she presses down just a little bit again. "and get you some water. i've never met a man with such terrible elasticity, you're really hurting here. and you're gonna have to ask kitty for some help if you want to jerk it, because you might not want to use your hand for that, either."

#speakizys #demon lovin #sharks and sugar #fire lily petals #izycrossover

[yellowgnomeboots]

Oh yeah everyone, I did the 10 minute POTS standing test and it says I have POTS. I might have an actual diagnosable thing that there's a test for. Unfortunately its a "syndrome" not a "disease" so its caused by some underlying condition that may or may not be diagnosable or known to actually exist, but still.

This would presumably explain why I've been unable to stand for any length of time since I was a teenager, why I have a compulsion to sit or move around when standing, why I get dizzy when forced to stand, why I am always finding somewhere to sit, why I am perplexed by the lack of seating in the world but no one else is, why when I'm really tired I also get really dizzy whenever I stand up, why my fitbit was giving me unusual heartrate readings, and why when I get up I often say "weee" this is fun as everything goes sideways.

Also there are 8 other common symptoms of POTS that I also have.

Probably about 6 weeks until I can see a doctor but if it checks out with her then I guess it means we have one thing that is a clue for a possible underlying condition.

I am very excited to possibly have a Real Problem TM and also it would be so much validation for all the shit people gave me when I was younger for not wanting to or being able to stand, and all the implications that I am lazy and weak for not being able to stand, and the accusations that I am lying about not being able to stand in order to get out of things.

#gnome post #health stuff #this better pan out

[waitwithwaluigi]

Why I like Quirkless!Midoriya AUs

TW: explicit mentions of discrimination and bullying against disabled (ends at ***)

TL;DR at the bottom

So I've got mental illness. (I know, I'm a pretty rare find on tumblr) Despite the fun cocktail of disabilities I had, I wasnt diagnosed until later in my teens. As you can guess, school wasn't very fun. I was disadvantaged because I was different. I was treated as less, as if I had something missing and nothing I could ever say or do could fix that. I didn't know what people thought of me though.

Dont get me wrong- I am not my disabilities. But I can say for certain, it's been a huge factor in how I see the world now, how I move around it. The protective rage and resigned acceptance I feel when I see discrimination against minority groups might not be the same as an able person. The desperate kicking and clawing to establish better resources for people like me isnt the same. The frustration and exhaustion I feel when the school board sees my 'condition' listed and having to prove myself competent over and over again isn't the same.

I've had my fair share of Fun!! and Exciting!!! experiences in discrimination!!!!

Like saying hello to the koi fish while trying to rescue my school bag that a teacher had flung out of the classroom after she got tired of my ADHD ass. (I bet you can guess how I felt when I saw That™️ koi pond scene) I was called out to the front of the class and told to unpack my bag and and show my classmates how disgusting I was (I was depressed and decided to just carry all my books around instead of unpack and repack according to schedule). I remember sprinting after my packed lunch but being so depressed and exhausted to keep going for more than 5 minutes. I was made an example of when I forgot my things and had to go back to school during the afternoon classes to grab the worksheet I left in class.

Through it all had to keep quiet. I was less, after all. If I wasn't, why did so many ignore the bullying? Why did they let go of me and say I was exagerating when they found me Too Much To Handle?

(Not looking for pity btw, just giving context)

***

Now, I initially began reading MHA fics because I was a teen who saw pretty people and cool fighting and was like "damn shawty, I'm gonna need more". (All hail Yaomomo) Then I came across the Quirkless Midoriya Izuku tag and was like huh.

Pretty interesting concept, right? So I read. And I read and I read and I read. And something just clicked. It wasnt like one of those mental illness success stories where they where overly positive or ones where I had to keep taking breaks because I kept getting reminded of the bs I went through. It was just removed enough but still relatable to my experience. Midoriya wouldn't be less if he didn't get a quirk.

In these fics, he found ways to work around it. Like yeah, maybe finding a work arounds when fighting your besties with god-like abilities while you have nothing isn't the same as finding a way to study that best suited my ADHD ass. But the fight to be considered equal, the ways I had to find creative ways to problems that my classmates thought nothing of. It resonated with me. (The fantasy and escapism were bonuses too)

It gives me a little extra push when I get too exhausted after the 100th time that day I have to prove that I am just as capable as anyone else.

While I'm not really a fan of Quirkless Villain!Midoriya cuz its typically a little too edgy for me, I do like it when its written well. Fuck the system and fuck the assholes who doubt us, right?

Something Fun!! I've experienced with disabilities is that you sometimes have to ignore any system entirely and just Do It. Just kick people in the shins and carve out the opportunity that nobody would bother giving you. Maybe one day they'll recognise you, maybe not. But you're doing what you've always wanted to do. That's something I feel when I read Quirkless Vigilante!Midoriya fics.

Quirkless AUs aren't like Batman where he's Super Intelligent and has 70 black belts. There isnt as much angst oof. He was just some Dood with determination and some smarts. We get to see him train, see the emotions and struggles all written out. Not to mention, I was a teen when I found MHA so it was extra relatable. I'm very sure that there are superheroes who fit that description but this niche is what I found.

That's why I like Quirkless!Midoriya AUs so much.

Do I think him becoming a hero will change a lot? No, not as much as me becoming a world famous super star would. But it would inspire. Even if it inspired just one person, stopped one person from doing something bad to soothe the ache, wouldn't it be enough? It inspired me at least.

Tl;dr: I seeing people with 'less' ability than their peers be equal and overcome challenges using creative solutions since they arent as 'catered' to, just like a disabled person. Its also easier to read without getting triggered compared to an actual book about mental illness discrimination.

Please enjoy this adorable panel as thanks for reading

#quirkless deku #quirkless au #quirkless midoriya izuku #my hero academia #my hero acedamia #vigilante deku #vigilante midoriya #i thought up a whole rant in the shower and I forgor most of it 💀 #rant #tw: discrimination #boku no academia #villain midoriya #rant post #mentally ill #quirkless discrimination

[summerlycoris]

Okay so I'm putting this here because Dad really fucking pissed me off today and If I don't write something I'll just-

So I was helping him to put in a veranda and ramp on the front of my house today. Work projects with Dad would be difficult, but not misery, if he could just. Fucking. Not be a dick for 5 seconds.

Unfortunately my dad has "must be a dick every 5 seconds " disease so that's never fucking happening lmao lol roflmao.

Anyway. He was ragging out my brothers girlfriend Rochelle. And yeah. She's got problems. Neither of us can see the relationship lasting. (Rochelle's nice, but not to brodie. She let's her anxiety get the best of her, and constantly embarrasses him in front of their friends making out of line jokes, and emotionally abusing him.)

Dad thinks the reason they're not going to last is that Rochelle is on disability and is "a leech" "She's going nowhere." He used himself (hes not fucking diagnosed. And normally im all for self diagnosis. But not for this cuntwad. I WILL gatekeep from my damn dad because fuck him thats why.) me and my brother as examples of disabled people who don't need help.

And that ticked me off. Because I do need help. I just don't get help. Brodie needs help too. He just can't get it. Hell, maybe if dad had help as a kid he wouldn't have been such a bastard when we were kids. (He's fucked up 2/3 kids. Bad odds when your a parent. And he's still got plenty of time to fuck up the 3rd kid! SHES ONLY 4 YEARS OLD.)

I can't remember exactly, but I try to tell him that my life wasn't great and that I could've used some help. He asks how my life sucked so bad.

And I'm just fucking gobsmacked. Mum did this too recently- despite literally being the one to say that she thought I was gonna off myself at 11 years old years ago. Do these two not have any fucking memories?

I told him I'd been bullied all through school. (Couldn't exactly tell him he'd treated me like dirt whenever he was home) and he was like "well you're living a better life than your bullies. I bet they don't own a house."

I got so fucking angry. And I couldn't explain it at the time. But I can now- it doesn't matter what YOU think. Or what Mum thinks. Or what the fucking goldfish think. You don't live my life! And my opinions the one that matters, because im the one living that life. And I think my life's kinda shit!

I can't make friends. Not because I'm necessarily bad at talking to people (I can mask better now than I ever could as a kid) but because I just can't feel the same way about talking to people as I could as a kid. Like this may not make any sense- but when I was a kid before everything? I liked talking to people. It wasn't a chore. I didn't have to overanalise everything. But now it is. I quickly finish up talking to people thinking something like "Thank god that's over" or "Thank god that didn't go badly" and it's so. Fucking. Tiring.

So I'm gonna be alone forever. Not because of some incel bullshit. But just because I literally can't do it. I just can't fucking do it right. I can't go back to being 8 and being excited to meet someone new. I can't even go back to being 19 and bring willing to try making friends.

I'm 28. And I've spent most of my life being lonely.

And he's like- you've got the autism support group- but we meet once a month and I sometimes can't even MAKE it due to work and there's acquaintances. I don't even know most of their NAMES.

And it all just sent me into a tailspin honestly. Like the day was okay until he decided to be himself and trod over some exposed nerves. Then run his fucking jeep over them for good measure.

He's like "your like van goth" and I'm like "he killed himself" and he says "but you won't do rhat" and honestly dad? There's still fucking time. Better 17 years late than never huh????

Fuck, I needed to get that off my chest. I can't stand him. I really can't. But I kinda have to because I want to still know mum and nikara.

It's just amazing how he can just. Always find a way to ruin my day. Today was supposed to be good. It's autism group meet up night. I'm supposed to take Rochelle and one of brodies friends there. But I think if I go tonight I'll just be a miseryguts and cry everywhere. And I've got a surprise work shift tomorrow from 7-3pm. And then my fucking On Week at work. Despite not really having much time off from it and work doing a number on me even during my fucking off week this week. It's just not worth going oh my fucking God I hate this.

#summerly talks

[janetfraiserdeservedbetter]

Pins and Needles (Chapter 6)

Pins and Needles Chapter 6

(Read Chapter One, Two, Three, Four and Five here!)

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2063

Fandom: Stargate SG1

Pairing: Sam Carter x Janet Fraiser

Summary:  Janet is a single mother and owner of a tattoo studio. Sam is a florist who has just moved into town. Janet's infatuated. Sam's a disaster gay. Flower shop/Tattoo parlour AU.

Notes: Hi y'all, I know it's been 2 years since I updated this and all I can say is I'm so sorry >.< Not long after I posted the last chapter, my mum got diagnosed with cancer, so life got thrown upside down for a while. She passed away at the end of last year and I just didn't have the brain capacity to update. Thanks for sticking with me and still giving this fic so much love.

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

The day in the life of Janet Fraiser wasn’t usually very exciting. On weekdays, she’d open the store, sometimes with Vala, other times alone. She’d sweep, sterilize, set up and then respond to emails and do paperwork until the shop opened. With only two artists, their client base consisted of mostly regulars on the weekend but they’d get the odd walk-in as well. They made enough money to get by and while the shop wasn’t making them millionaires by any means, it wasn’t breaking the bank either.

That being said, with a break in meaning that they'd need to close for the rest of the weekend, clients would have to be rescheduled and what little money they would have made that day was out the door now.

Janet leaned back in her chair with a sigh, running a hand through her hair as she hung up with her last booking. The client had been understanding and had rescheduled for another day but Janet wished more than anything that she had something tactile to be doing rather than calling insurance and rifling through the paperwork.

Around 10, the bell above the door tinkled and Janet looked up to see her daughter waving goodbye to her friend Aly. The young girl dumped her overnight bag by the door and let out a whistle as she looked over the now patched up window.

“Dang mom, I didn't know you were doing renovations,” the teen mused. Janet didn’t hide the roll of her eyes as she climbed to her feet and pulled her daughter in for a tight hug.

“Yeah, well, it’s not something I’d’ve chosen, personally.”

The pair parted and Cassie pulled a chair over to the desk, dropping into it unceremoniously. 

“Did they take anything?”

“No, the sheriff thinks they got spooked and ran off.”

She hummed, picking at her nails. 

“How was your night darling?”

The teen was telling her mother about the weekend she’d had and Janet relaxed a little, listening intently to her daughter relaying the school gossip to her. It was a pleasant distraction to the morning of admin. It felt like days ago that Sam had visited and asked her on a date. Oh god.

She was supposed to take Sam out to dinner tomorrow night. On a date. She hadn’t been on a date in longer than she cared to remember and Sam was an incredibly smart, extremely gorgeous and charming woman and Janet was old and oh god, what if she scared her off?

Cassie seemed to notice her mother’s shift in attention. With a gentle prod, Janet snapped out of her thoughts.

“Yo mom, you okay? Where’d you go?”

“Sorry sweetie, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”

The bell rang again, this time signalling Vala’s arrival. She looked overdressed, as she usually did, in her leather trousers and a loose-fitting men's shirt, her breasts spilling out of her push-up bra beneath the open buttons.

“I don’t understand men,” she exclaimed, dumping her purse beside Cassie’s bag. Janet laughed gently, watching her friend plop herself in front of the desk. “Look at me, Janet. Would you not want a piece of this?” The woman grabbed her breasts, pushing them together with a frown. Janet laughed again as Cassie’s face reddened and she hid behind her hands.

“Absolutely,” the tattoo artist smirked, reaching for the latte Vala had brought her. “But I may be biased because I love boobs.”

“Mom!”

“Precisely! So why is Daniel Jackson so bloody blind to my advances? Every morning I go in there, tits out, legs practically akimbo and nothing, not even a glance. What's wrong with me?”

“Maybe you’re not his type?” Cassie squeaked, giggling.

The silence from Vala was palpable. “No, impossible.” She huffed. “Anyway, at least the other handsome man at the cafe can appreciate a work of art. Practically tripped over himself to pay for our drinks.” She looked pretty proud of herself and Janet snickered, taking a long sip of her drink. The caffeine was a welcome buzz and she relaxed a little more, watching her daughter and friend talk together. 

Janet was reminded at times like this how lucky they were to have such great friends around them. Even though Vala could be loud and immature and frustrating at times, she was a loyal and caring friend and had always been there for Janet when she needed a drinking buddy or a shoulder to cry on. Even more than that, she was great with Cassie. Being a single parent was hard and Janet always feared that she was too strict on her daughter. Jack and Vala were always there to parent her when it got too much.

It really did take a village to raise a child.

“Have you decided what you want for your birthday?” The woman was asking. The pair stood in front of the full-length mirror, Vala braiding the younger girl’s blonde curls. “What about a tattoo!”

Cassie was giggling. “Think mum would let me get a tramp stamp?” 

“Absolutely not,” Janet called but they seemed to ignore her.

“Ooh or maybe a few face tattoos!”

“Oh, or I could get my nose pierced!”

“Or your nipples!”

“She’s 15, not 25, Vala!”

The dark-haired woman shot her a grin in the mirror.

“Lighten up, Jan! I had mine done at 15!”

“Of course you did,” she muttered, unable to help the smirk that found her lips. “Besides, she has a ‘not-date’ with Damien that day.”

“Ooooh, Damien!” Vala teased and the teen blushed again, pushing the woman playfully. 

“It’s not like that! We’re going bowling with our friends!”

“Mmmhm, I've heard that one before.” She tied the braids off with a grin that both Fraisers knew to mean that Vala had a wicked idea. “Does that mean we need to go shopping for a cute, definitely not flirty, not-date outfit?”

Cassie's eyes widened and the pair turned to Janet, both grinning madly. 

“Can we mom? Please?” “Come on, Jan, how can you say no to us! Your daughter has a not-date and I’m… well, I’m going through a hard time with my love life! It’s called retail therapy!”

It would be nice to get out of the studio, Janet concluded. There wasn’t much they could do until the security company sent the footage to the police and that wouldn't happen until Monday morning. She was also painfully aware that she didn’t have anything nice to wear on her date with Sam so maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Fine.” The pair’s excited squeals drowned her out but she grinned nonetheless and got up to grab her coat.

-----

The mall was fairly busy. Christmas was still a few months away but already people seemed to be out trying to beat the holiday rush. 

The pair dragged Janet from store to store, taking their time rifling through every shelf and aisle. Vala couldn’t resist a quick trip into Victoria’s Secret where she got herself several new sets of lingerie; it wasn’t news to anyone that she had an Only Fans and that's how she could afford these luxuries. Tattooing didn’t pay incredibly well and a woman like Vala needed extra income to support her lavish tastes.

While she waited for her friend to finish her haul, a dark green set caught Janet’s eye. It was made of satin but black lace lined the cups and the waist of the panties; the fabric was soft under her touch and there were only two sets left. One just happened to be in her size. Chewing her fingernail, she stared at the lingerie, feeling a little ridiculous. She was a woman fast approaching her forties, looking at sexy lingerie from Victoria’s secret. If it were anyone else, she’d be right there, urging them to ‘treat themselves’ and ‘fuck the patriarchy’, but she was her own worst hypocrite.

She heard a gasp from behind her. Vala rushed forward, grabbing the set and holding it up to Janet’s torso. 

“Oh you have to!” The woman purred, admiring the colour against Janet’s tan, inked skin. “It’s so sexy! You have to.”

“I don’t know…”

“Don't be daft! It’s perfect for you!” With that, Vala was marching back to the counter and Janet had no choice but to follow her. “Now you have something spicy to wear if you ever get the guts to ask Sam out.”

The woman paid for it and handed the bag to Janet with a grin.

“Thank you,” she conceded, cheeks burning with excitement.

The trio left the mall, wallets lighter but bags full of goodies. While Vala and Cassie had been in the change rooms, Janet had found herself the perfect top to go with her lingerie; not that she thought they’d have sex on the first date but it made her feel sexy and desirable nonetheless. 

Janet would never admit it but Vala was right. This had been exactly what the three of them had needed. She was feeling calm and relaxed in a way that she hadn’t for a few days and she couldn’t wait to get home and spend the night watching movies with her daughter. Every year seemed to be flying by faster than the last and before she knew it, Cassie would be moving out and going to college. Janet was fully determined to take advantage of these moments with her daughter while they lasted.

She stepped off the travelator first, stepping out of the automatic doors into the parking lot, Vala and Cassie behind her. They’d gotten a spot only two rows from the doors and as she maneuvered past a blue VW, her truck came into view.

Her heart sank.

The passenger's side window had been smashed in and the contents of her glove compartment and centre console were spilling onto the bitumen. A few people were standing around the vehicle, gossiping. A sheriff’s cruiser pulled up alongside the crowd and Sheriff Hammond and his deputy, Walter, jumped out. 

Janet felt Cassie grip her hand as she stopped before the mess.

“This your truck Janet?” The deputy was clearing some onlookers away from the scene as Hammond approached. She nodded, trying to process the scene in front of her. Could this week get any worse? 

“We’ve been inside for an hour at most,” Vala told the man, taking up guard by Janet’s side.

“There’ve been a lot of break-ins lately,” Walter told them, stopping beside Hammond.

“Did they take anything?”

“I don’t know, I didn't get a look…” She couldnt tear her eyes away from her registration papers that lay on the concrete, the ink slowly blurring into a black blobl as water from the puddle soaked into the paper.

“Right well, we’ll have to get her back to the impound and see if we can’t find any prints.”

“How long will that take?” This was Vala who stood close to Janet, her presence firm and comforting.

“Could be a day or so. We have to call in the folks from the next county over.” So much for her date with Sam tomorrow.

The process took almost an hour. Though it appeared that the car, besides the broken window, was fine, a tow truck was called to transport it back to the impound. Vala had taken cassie home while Janet sorted it, not without complaints from the young girl.

“First your shop, now your truck. One hell of a coincidence, don't you think? Can you think of anyone that’d want to get back at you? Disgruntled family, unhappy client?”

“No. I don’t know why anyone would want to make my life miserable.” For a moment, the image of her ex-husband flitted across her mind but she shook the thought away. They had a restraining order and he didn’t even know where they lived. Still, she told the sheriff as much; she wasn’t taking any chances.

“What’s his name?”

“Sergeant Hugh Walker.”

“Alright, we’ll look into it.” The man’s gaze softened and he touched her arm gently. “You need anything, you let me know, alright?”

Janet returned the man’s smile, nodding gratefully. She watched them go, her car in tow. She stayed where she was for a long moment, letting the stress and the thoughts storm around her head, stinging her eyes. Pulling her coat tighter around her, she headed back inside to call a cab.

#stargate #sg1 #stargate sg1 #daniel jackson #janet fraiser #sam carter #jack o'neill #amanda tapping #samantha carter #teryl rothery

[azpherambles]

Feel like talking about art... I worry a lot that I've passed some kind of 'peak' in my art, not per se skillwise but productivity wise.

'I made a 65 page full colour full shading comic chapter and had it printed! Oh my god, I could never do that now', I think. But thankfully in this age I've seen this exact thing happen to so many artists slightly older than me... intense productivity in school, sudden drop in early 20's, figure shit out in late 20's. It makes sense, art was basically the only thing keeping me together for many of those productive years, and I was miserable.

And now, yeah, I'm back in a high stress environment, but this time I'm managing my own progress and am doing things I want to do on some level, that aren't art. Is it any wonder people go on massive hiatuses when theres no longer One Thing they want to do?

And well also. The classic. It is bonkers the amount of people I grew up admiring who crashed and burned in college and then get diagnosed with, well usually several things but especially ADHD. I'd like to think I'm "learning from other's """pitfalls"""" by nipping that revelation in the bud early (healthcare system tho... pls gimme anything... an appointment, maybe...) but I've been ruminating a long time on art advice and life advice and a lot of the time it's not possible to 'skip' on doing the 'wrong' thing.

So much art advice is like 'man i wish i learned anatomy or x thing when I was younger, so much time wasted' and yes it seems true in hindsight, learning anatomy is pivotal to my current art... but I think I had to *get* to a point art and well growing up wise where that was even something I could fully comprehend. Theres lots of things where, yeah, I'm sure sitting 12 year old me down and getting them excited about Bones and Muscles wasn't *impossible*, but there was like 100 mini lessons that have no names I had to learn first. It's like, a skill tree in a video game. You have to learn fireball I and II before great fireball IV or whatever. It's easy to say man, why didn't I learn Hard Thing sooner, I would have been so much better by now, when in order to be able for Hard Thing you had to learn all the smaller easier things it leads to. Going straight for the big guns isn't impossible, but you'll end up having to go backwards at some point. In fact I feel like that's what's happening to me now!

I'm like, why is my art shit conpared to a few years ago, why am I half-assing everything, and you know what I spent 5 years only doing full colour full shading stuff because that was The Inevitable Artistic Conclusion and doing Less would be Wasting My Time! And I think that was the right choice actually. *Because* it made me learn that thought process wasn't true.

Also ummm FFAK by kosmicdream who I am sheepishly not tagging basically rewrote my brain? A 6000+ and not even half finished comic drawn with maximum speed and not sweating the details? And its great? And at no point did I think the story was worse off for not being polished to 100% 'completion'? Preposterous!

Well, not really. Loads of comics are like that. I knew I didn't want to be like them. But hm, its a conscious choice now rather than a feeling of shame at not completing things. The reassurance that, it's okay to not finish things, and it's okay to do less in order to finish things. Balance. FFAK just really punched that lesson into my skull rather than the light jabs of comics I'd loved before. I can count the comics I read as a kid that actually *finished* on like, two hands max. I reevaluated, what do I want to be, perfect incompletion or finished imperfection. And chose both and neither because I'm a vile little contrarian.

Am I going to finish my comic? Finished doesn't exist, so no. Does that mean my tedious perfection is justified as long as the unfinished work is what I envisioned? Also no, because I am not the same person I was when I stopped lifting the pen and my idea of perfection is also always just out of reach. Also it's. A story. I want to tell it. Not look at it.

Like, just... do what you want. What you want will change, you can't put a box around it. But also develop discipline, because that box helps. It's always breaking and expanding and shrinking but the box has to be there. You have to try. But you won't succeed. And that's okay, because that's not the goal. It's a dance, not a house.

You might want to build a place to dance easier but you've gotta dance. And you suck at dancing but you love it. And if you don't love ot anymore, go work on the house until you want to again, and you'll think, why am I building this goddamn house instead of dancing, and you'll keep forgetting that the house exists to dance in. Then someday you come back off the scaffolding and realise, woah, holy shit, dancing here is going to be so much better.

And you think, why didn't I make the house like this in the first place? Well, because you only started building the house when you didn't want to dance, imagine if you made the house perfect, and then stopped liking dancing? Well you'd be me, you'd knock that house down, and you'd rebuild it all shit, because you didn't need the house to dance, you needed the process of building it. You can make that perfect house all the time, but you can only make a shit house once. No matter how you try, you're gonna figure out why the house is shit, and make it better.

And you'll say, why didn't I make this first before! I'm learning so much! And you'll remember why, it's because everyone said 'man, don't make a house like I made it. Look at my new house, its so much better, do that! I wasted so much time on the shit house!' But they didnt. They learned. You made their perfect house with no understanding of why it was perfect. You had to break it, to rebuild it, to retrace the steps, to learn.

#oh god I finally made my point #long post #does this make sense I dont know #hit post and maybe someone will get it but its okay if no one does its the process not the result