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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years

Note

Congrats on 500 followers!!!!! Your writing is amazing and you totally deserve it! Would you be able to do “Can you please stop biting your lip…it’s distracting.” for analogical? If you don’t get inspo for it that’s totally fine I’m just on a total analogical kick recently lol

@wisherbystarlight thank you!! i absolutely love analogical so here you go

Title: abject impermanence

Word Count: 3,570

Content Warnings: implied suicidal ideation (in reference to virgil ducking out), negative self image

(fic masterpost)

Virgil would rather die than admit this to anybody, but he develops a crush on Logan after their first debate.

It’s ridiculous, and bothersome, and stupidly humiliating, and he has to spend a few days in his room before he feels prepared enough to face anyone again, prepared enough to put up his usual walls and throw around his usual sarcastic comments, and all the while, his heart is beating far too fast, his mind racing, insisting that he’s being obvious, that everyone knows.

(That is what being Anxiety means: he is under a microscope all the time, his every movement watched and analyzed and derided, alone in a crowd of people who wish him nothing but ill.)

It’s awful, really. Is he truly so pathetic that the first time someone treats him like his opinions are valid, he falls head over heels for them? Because he has to admit, that’s the root of all of this. The debate, and the fact that even though Logan didn’t agree with him, he still treated him with respect, like he was someone worth listening to, and none of the light sides have ever acted like that before.

And they’ve certainly never told him that they don’t mind his company.

So. He has a crush on Logan. And it takes him a few weeks to calm down enough to really think about it, but when he does, he decides that nothing has to change. It’s not like he’ll ever work up the courage to act on these feelings

(because holy shit, how badly would that go? He can picture it now: Logan sneering at him, Logan rejecting him, Logan informing him that he would never in a million years have feelings for someone so irrational and useless, and while Virgil is at it, would he kindly remove himself from his presence and never come back and— well. Maybe Virgil is irrational, but he can’t bring himself to risk something like that)

so the only thing to do with them is pretend they’re not there, right? He’ll keep all of his emotions right here, in his chest, and then one day, he’ll die, and no one else has to know a thing about it.

He doesn’t see what could possibly go wrong with this plan. Which is odd for him because usually, he can only see the things that could go wrong. But the only factor in this plan is him, and his own ability to disguise his feelings, and he’s been successfully doing that for a very long time.

(After all, it’s been years, and none of the others have managed to figure out how much their rejection hurts him, how deeply it strikes at the heart he pretends not to have.)

But he doesn’t anticipate things changing. He doesn’t anticipate trying to duck out, at least, not until the moments in between making the decision and actually going through with it, and he doesn’t anticipate anybody coming after him. He certainly doesn’t anticipate their reactions, doesn’t anticipate being told that he’s important,

(because since fucking when?)

and doesn’t anticipate their acceptance.

He doesn’t anticipate telling them his name.

And alright, maybe he could deal with all of this. Maybe he could ease his way into being one of them, edge his way into their inner circle. It’s something he once would have thought impossible, but now, they seem determined to make him one of them, to bring him into their family, and even though part of him wonders whether they’re just trying to make sure he doesn’t duck out again, doesn’t hurt Thomas, a larger part of him is ecstatic about the fact that they’re including him at all. Maybe he can let himself have this, for once.

But that night, Logan comes to his room.

“Do you have a moment to talk?” he asks, and reluctantly, Virgil takes off his headphones.

Because, yes. Of course. He’s hardly busy, and even if he were, he’s certain he’d figure out a way to put it aside in favor of Logan, because really, he’s helpless to do anything else.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, aiming for casual. He thinks he makes it, if only because he is very practiced in hiding how much of a mess he is internally. “What’s up?”

Logan looks uncomfortable, a bit shifty, even though he hasn’t been in his room nearly long enough for its effects to take hold.

“I merely wanted to check in with you after today’s events,” he says, and then pauses, biting his lip, something that Virgil finds incredibly distracting. “Specifically, to ensure that you are alright.”

He blinks. “Of course I’m alright,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“Well, I was considering everything that happened, and it occurred to me that we glossed over precisely what ‘ducking out’ would have done to you in the long term.” In an oddly vehement motion, Logan shoves his glasses further up his nose. And Virgil knows very well that as the embodiment of Logic, Logan tries not to display his stronger emotions, but right now, he is the perfect picture of distress. “I find it likely that if Thomas had been unable to utilize you for an extended amount of time, you may have… disappeared, for lack of a better word, not unlike a muscle that atrophies after disuse.”

Well, yes. He knew what he was risking. But he’d felt low enough that he didn’t particularly care about himself.

He was just tired of hurting Thomas.

(And maybe, just maybe, if there was a part of him, small and insidious in the back of his brain, that found the prospect of nothingness appealing, he’ll keep that to himself.)

“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But that didn’t happen. You guys came and got me, and I’m okay now. Not gonna do anything like that again, I swear.”

“That’s not my point,” Logan says, even more upset entering his voice. He crosses his arms, holding his shoulders tensely. “No matter how illogical it might seem, I find myself wondering what might have happened had we not attempted to reach you in time, and the idea is… displeasing.”

Oh.

Despite himself, Virgil’s heart flutters.

“So, I arrived at the conclusion that assuring myself of your continued well-being would help to assuage my concern.” Logan fidgets. “As well as the fact that… I want you to be alright. For yourself, and not just because I am…”

“Anxious?” Virgil can’t resist finishing, even as he feels his face flushing underneath his foundation. God, he hopes Logan doesn’t pick up on that. He shouldn’t be reacting this strongly to something as simple as basic worry, especially after the day they all had, but to know that Logan has been thinking about him? That Logan doesn’t like the idea of him not being around, doesn’t want him to vanish?

That Logan cares enough to come check on him like this?

It’s a strong, heady feeling, and Virgil has the sneaking suspicion that his crush has just upgraded itself.

“Yes,” Logan answers, and he seems a bit embarrassed, but he holds his ground, staring Virgil straight (gay) in the eyes. The direct eye contact is intense, almost too much for him to handle, but Virgil finds himself unable to look away.

“Well, uh, I appreciate it, I guess,” he manages. “Really, it’s nice to know that you care.”

“Of course,” Logan says, and seems almost indignant at the idea that he might not. “I value our discussions,” he adds, and Virgil has to pretend that that statement doesn’t almost give him a heart attack.

But that is mostly the end of that conversation, because really, neither of them is very good with touchy-feely emotions. Logan sinks back out shortly after, and Virgil is left alone in his room, his headphones lying uselessly on his lap as his mind reviews their exchange over and over again, searching for all the places where it might have gone wrong, or where he might have messed up. He can’t really find any, and that is a realization in and of itself, almost enough to distract him from the bigger one, the one that looms over him.

It’s not just a crush anymore. He could try to deny it, but he thinks that would summon unwanted attention. So he accepts it, accepts that he is… he’d say infatuated, but infatuated isn’t the right word. Infatuated doesn’t even begin to cover what he feels when he looks at Logan, doesn’t cover the way his heart races and his words trip over themselves and the way he longs for his approval. It doesn’t cover the way he knows so many little details about him, like the way Logan pushes at his glasses or fiddles with his tie when he’s nervous or upset, or the exact way his lips curl around the edges when he’s pleased and trying not to show it. So many little details, none of which would be on his radar at all if he wasn’t—

Well. He won’t deny it. But he doesn’t particularly see the need to voice it, either.

After all, it’s not like it changes anything. Or at least, it shouldn’t. He wasn’t planning on sharing his feelings when they were a simple crush, and he’s certainly not going to share them now that there’s more.

Except, nothing is ever that simple,

(Nothing ever can be, with him. It’s what he does best, turning easy things into overcomplicated messes because he can’t let go of all the what ifs—)

because suddenly, he’s welcome to spend time with the others. Is welcome at their table, is welcome in the commons, is welcome to join their movie nights and their game nights, and most of the time, he even feels mostly okay with doing so, because Patton is enthusiastic in his invitations, and he can tell that even Roman is honestly trying. And sometimes, it makes him want to cry, because this is all he’s ever wanted, to be one of them, and now he can and it’s almost too much.

The only problem with that is that he’s spending a lot more time around Logan.

Which is fine. Great, even.

Except, sometimes, Logan will do things. Little things, inconsequential things, but things that remind Virgil all too clearly of the feelings he keeps nestled under his heart.

For instance, Logan bites his lip a lot. When he’s working, when he’s watching movies, when he’s listening to the others, and sometimes for no reason at all. It’s a stupid thing to get caught up on, but he can’t help himself. And it’s not as if Virgil’s attraction to him begins or ends with the physical, but—

Whenever he does it, Virgil can’t stop his eyes from zeroing in on his lips. Can’t stop himself from thinking about how much he would like to kiss him.

He would like to kiss him a whole lot. And he’s fairly sure he’s being pretty obvious about it, but he can’t bring himself to stop.

So, really, he should have prepared himself for the possibility of being found out. Under any other circumstance, he would have, but there’s a saying, he thinks, about love and fools.

“Can I help you with something?” Logan says, and Virgil flinches violently, the rest of the world coming back into focus. He snaps his gaze up to meet Logan’s eyes, and the expression on his face might be amusement, maybe, but it could also be annoyance, and in fact, it’s probably definitely annoyance, because actually Logan is annoyed with Virgil and maybe even angry and now their budding friendship is completely ruined and all because Virgil doesn’t know better than to stare when he really shouldn’t be staring and—

No, stop. Stop. He’s not going to do that, not right now. He wrests his thoughts back under control with an effort.

Logan was working, typing away on his laptop, biting his lip as he concentrated. And Virgil just so happened to be out in the commons as well, in the perfect position to watch him and daydream, just a bit.

He needs to reply. He’s left it too long, and Logan’s eyebrows are inching up his face as he awaits a response. And the longer he takes to come up with something, the more suspicious Logan will be, so he should just shrug, mutter a denial, and pointedly turn his attention away. Something like that.

But it’s his job to make snap decisions under pressure. And sometimes those decisions aren’t the right ones.

So instead of taking another second to think things through and deflect Logan’s interest, his mouth opens ahead of his brain and says, “Can you please stop biting your lip?”

Logan stares. Virgil feels himself wilting.

“… It’s distracting,” he finishes weakly, and prays for the ground to swallow him whole. He can’t even manage to sink out

(because his mind is screaming at him now, screaming horrified recriminations, screaming all of the worst case scenarios, and it’s taking all of his concentration to breathe properly, much less get out of here)

because the sheer force of his embarrassment is leaving him paralyzed, curled up in his chair and with nowhere to go, nowhere to escape Logan’s widening eyes.

“Is it now,” Logan says, and he doesn’t sound particularly angry, but Virgil could very easily be wrong. Or, he could be angry and trying to hide it. Or maybe he’s not angry, but irritation would probably be just as bad, at this point.

“Sorry,” he mutters, hunching in on himself. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”

“Virgil, you’re magnifying,” Logan says softly, and that softness is worse than any anger could be, because what if he’s figured it out? What if he pities him? Virgil would take just about anything over pity. “Whatever you think you just said, I assure you that it didn’t come off nearly as badly as you seem to believe.” He pauses, tilting his head. “Though, I can’t say I’m certain of what you meant, considering—”

He cuts off suddenly, and Virgil can practically see the cogs turning in his head. He should leave now, leave before Logan draws his conclusions, but he is frozen, powerless to do anything but let this train wreck happen in real time.

“I wouldn’t ordinarily consider biting my lip to be a disruptive habit,” Logan says slowly. “It makes no noise and does no one any harm, and it’s not something I would think affects anyone else. But you were staring, which means there is something about the habit that draws your attention. I can only think of a few reasons for that.”

He takes it back. Pity would be far better than this, than this slow and measured reasoning, drawing out all of Virgil’s best-kept secrets, spiraling toward a conclusion that he never wanted anyone to know, much less Logan himself.

Perhaps that is why he says what he says. Because with this, Logan is only prolonging the inevitable, and it’s torture.

It’s like a band-aid. The biggest band-aid ever, maybe, covering one of the worst wounds of his life, but a band-aid. And it’s coming off one way or another, so he might as well rip it off now and brace himself for the sting.

“Oh my god,” he says. “It makes me want to kiss you. That’s why it’s distracting. And I’m just gonna go die in a hole now, if that’s alright.”

His face is burning, mortification rising up in him like a tidal wave, threatening to swamp him. This is, possibly, the worst thing that has ever happened to him, ever.

(It’s not, of course, because anything and everything is better than it was before he was accepted, when he was on his own and so lonely and bitter all the time. But this comes close, he thinks. It’s a different kind of hurt altogether, but a hurt nonetheless.)

Logan sets his laptop down, giving him his full attention. For a moment, he is completely silent, and Virgil prepares himself to stand and sink out and into his room, where he will spend the next few weeks huddled under the covers on his bed with his headphones on blast, hating his life and himself for being such an idiot, because here he is, ruining one of the best friendships that he has ever known, and for what? Because he was too much of a moron to keep himself from staring, from forcing his unwanted attentions upon the one side who was more likely than any of the others to notice what he was doing? It’s pathetic, and stupid, and he knows it, and Logan knows it, and—

“I don’t see why you need to do that,” Logan says. His voice shakes, just slightly. “You could kiss me, if you wanted.”

Virgil stills. He can’t have heard that right.

Logan clears his throat. “That is to say, I would enjoy it, if you kissed me. If I’d realized you were interested, I would have broached the topic sooner.”

Hysterical laughter threatens to escape him, his brain dissolving into static, because what? And he knows he needs to say something, needs to respond, but his vocal cords refuse to work, so he’s left sitting there, staring, stricken dumb.

Logan glances away, something like uncertainty crossing his face. “I apologize,” he murmurs. “I’m not doing this right, am I?”

And that is what finally spurs Virgil to action, because Logan sounds so terribly dejected, and that is absolutely not allowed. Not when it’s Virgil that’s made such a mess of things, when none of it is Logan’s fault at all.

“Do you mean it?” he croaks.

Logan blinks, his expression clearing, and then landing on comprehension. His face softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he stands, crossing the floor and kneeling in front of where Virgil sits.

“Of course I do,” he says, and then reaches out with one hand, cupping Virgil’s cheek. Virgil’s breath catches, the contact shooting lightning across his face and down his spine. His heart starts beating faster, and he doesn’t know whether it’s fear or anticipation or some mixture of the two. Most of him still hasn’t processed that this is happening, hasn’t made the jump from Logan can never know about my feelings because he’ll reject me and then I’ll have no choice but to jump off a cliff to Logan knows about my feelings and he is doing the exact opposite of rejecting me hoooooly shit what do I do—

“I think about you often,” Logan says. “Ever since our first debate, if I’m being completely honest.”

Virgil blinks.

The laugh escapes him, then, but there’s not much hysteria in it. It’s something warm, now, something bright and colorful and blooming as he realizes just how much of an idiot he’s been, as his anxiety slowly begins to fade away,

(not completely, never completely, because he is who he is and that will never change, and his mind is already looking to the future, at all the fresh new opportunities he is going to have to screw this up, but for now, in this moment, he has Logan here in front of him, offering to kiss him, telling him that his feelings aren’t as one-sided as he convinced himself they had to be, and it’s very difficult to be negative at all, in the face of such a beautiful thing as this, as him)

morphing into something that he is tentatively willing to call hope.

“Yeah?” he says. “Me too.”

Before he can lose his nerve, he shifts position, leans down, and kisses Logan. Lightly, briefly, and it’s really more of a peck than anything else, but in the split second in which their lips meet, Virgil can feel just how soft Logan’s are, and when he pulls back, anxiously searching for a reaction, Logan’s cheeks are dusted with red.

“Yes, um,” Logan says. “That was… good. Would you like to do it again?”

A wave of fondness washes over him, and he lets it drag him away.

“You dork,” he says, and pecks him on the lips again. He doesn’t yet have to courage to try for more, but he thinks that might come with time. If he is allowed time, if he is allowed this, and he is not prone to optimism, but for once, he might be willing to give it a go.

Optimism, and whatever this is, new and exciting and budding between them. And there is a part of his mind that is screaming at him, insisting that he’s only going to hurt Logan or get hurt himself, and that no brief happiness could ever be worth that, but—

Logan’s lips are gentle and soft, and Logan is smiling at him, and that, he thinks, might be worth the world.

(“I would be extremely displeased if you died in a hole,” Logan informs him a bit later. “Please refrain from doing so.”

He agrees, if only because of that fact that if he died in a hole, he would never get to kiss Logan ever again. And now that he’s started, he doesn’t ever want to stop.

He is not one to believe in permanence. Or in happy endings. But just this once, he’ll try it, and trust that Logan will catch him if he falls.)

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#analogical #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #my fic #long post #cat does prompts #wisherbystarlight

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ketchup-monthly · 3 years

Text

Night Talks - Chapter 2 Bonus

Loceit (post-relationship)

TWs: self-deprecation, flower mention

They were having a quiet night in, laying together in Janus’ bed, reading, when Logan remembered something he had been meaning to ask Janus for months. He and Janus were in their night clothes, Logan in a pair of shorts and t-shirt, and Janus in a set of gold silk pajamas, with the shorter one laying on Logan’s chest, head turned to the side, looking at his e-reader. Putting a bookmark in his book to mark his page and setting the book down on the nightstand, he placed his hands around Janus’ waist.

“Are you prepared to sleep?” Janus looked up from his book, glancing at him, mismatched eyes sparkling behind blue light glasses.

He shook his head. “I have a question for you, my dear.”

While Logan felt that it may have been underhanded, asking him a personal question in the one room where he can’t lie, it was something that had been weighing on him in the back of his mind.

Janus turned off the e-reader and removed his glasses, leaning further over Logan to place them on top of the book on the side table. He settled back down on his chest, smiling at him. “Of course, love. Ask away.”

“Do you still have that deck of cards that we played gin with?”

“Yes.” He snapped his fingers, materializing the cards in his hand.

Logan took the deck and shuffled through it, taking out the jokers, and one of every face card and an ace. He looked over them again, checking to see if they were the same as they were on that day.

“Why do you ask?” Janus set his chin onto his folded hands, eyebrow cocked.

Logan showed him which cards he had taken from the rest. “I recognize the flowers on these cards, but I am afraid I’m not sure what the meaning of each of them is. Could you tell me, dearest?”

“Of course. Which card would you like me to explain first?”

Logan held up the jokers. “This one has Roman holding a red rose and Remus holding a rhododendron. I know that red roses signify romance, but what do rhododendrons symbolize? And this one has amaryllis and angelica.”

Janus smiled a bit before talking. “Roman is Thomas’ romantic, fanciful side, hence the rose, however he is also Thomas’ ego. Amaryllis means pride. Remus, as goofy as he may act, still poses a threat. Despite that, he also shares the mantle of creativity. Rhododendrons mean danger or beware and angelica mean inspiration.”

“You think Roman is prideful.”

“You do as well, love. I also think that Remus is inspirational. He deserves to hear that more, and not just from me.”

Logan caressed his scaled cheek. “He would believe you, no matter what any of the rest of us say to him.”

“I guess. Shall I explain Patton’s next?”

He excitedly switched the cards in his hand. “White camellia, blue hydrangea, white jasmine, and forget me nots. A very beautiful mix; you have a very good eye.”

“You flatter me. I am colorblind in my left eye.”

Gaze sweeping across Janus’ face, he smiled. “Fascinating.”

He cleared his throat. “White camellias mean you’re adorable, hydrangeas mean gratitude for being understood, while blue ones signify frigidity and heartlessness. White jasmine is sweet love and amiability, and forget-me-nots are, quite aptly, do not forget me.”

Logan thought for a second, placing together what Janus and Patton had gone through together. “He was one of the first to truly accept you in front of Thomas, and is widely considered the sweetest of us. However, he is not always like that, shown through his interactions with Remus. You are thankful that he understood you, and want him to remember that. You are also on good terms with him, but feel hurt that he cannot accept Remus as he has you, and still hold that grudge.”

“Brilliant as always, love.”

He pointed to the jack. “What about Virgil? White clover, red columbine, edelweiss, and coriander.”

“Think of me, anxious and trembling, course and devotion, and hidden worth. What do you think that means when put together?”

“This was just after Virgil had joined us on the other side, so you were missing him. You think very highly of Virgil, and believe that he is more than just ‘Anxiety’, you believe him to be strong, able to stand up, if not for himself, for Thomas, at the very least. You understand that separation from you was for the best for him, but you don’t want him to ignore and block you out forever.”

Janus nodded. “He had good times here as well as bad. I don’t want him to live for the rest of his life remembering me as what he thought I was when he left.”

“And my card? The king? Why am I the king? Not that I’m complaining, my dear, I’m just curious because we were not together at the time.”

“You deserve to be someone’s king, both then and now.”

Logan leaned up and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

Janus pushed the blush off of his right cheek. “Blue hyacinth means constancy, violet means watchfulness, modesty, and faithfulness, clematis means mental beauty, rosemary means remembrance, and savory means interest.”

This time, Logan blushed. The cards were created long before he and Janus had chosen to pursue romantic endeavors, and yet this was still what Janus thought of him.

“And—ahem—and this means…?”

The man on his chest reached a hand out to fiddle with the collar of his shirt. “I find you to be exquisite, inside and out, not only your brain. Your memory is uncanny, you are so very loyal, even to those who may not always deserve that faith that you place in them, and while you see and know so much, you remain humbled. You’re stable, never changing for the negative, remaining by Thomas’ side even when he doesn’t believe he needs you there. And I find myself very interested in you, my love.”

“That’s beautiful, Janus.” He took Janus’ hand and pressed it to his lips. “And yours, my queen? Snapdragon, anemone, belladonna, black-eyes susan, lavender, and bittersweet?”

At this, he went from looking into Logan’s eyes, as he had been since they started talking, to looking to the side, a frown on his face. “Deception and graciousness, forsaken, silence, justice, distrust, and truth.”

His words were barely audible, shame clinging to every syllable.

“Darling, that can’t be what you think of yourself.” Logan’s brow furrowed and he squeezed Janus’ hand softly.

He still didn’t look up. “It’s all I’m good for. I lie, I silence others for my own gain, while I pursue justice, I don’t do it in a way that will help others. The rest of you still don’t trust me fully, after all, I am just a liar. I know the truth, I am the truth, but I am stuck in a gray area between that and deception, never fully filling either. I can act as polite as I please, but Roman and Virgil, and even Patton, still cannot look me in the face and believe what I mean. Thomas still doesn’t trust me. I’m stuck.”

Logan reached up and placed his hands on the sides of Janus’ face, gently turning him back to face him, wiping away tears. “That’s illogical and it’s not true. It may be true to you because you could say it in here, but it certainly isn’t true to me, or Virgil, or Thomas, or anyone else. Yes, you represent deception, but you also represent some facet of truth. Thomas needs you as much as he needs Patton, Roman, or myself. I believe you, I know when you’re telling the truth or lying, and understand the meaning behind what you say. So can Remus, and Virgil.”

Janus sniffed. “Virgil doesn’t, that’s why he left me.”

He shook his head, making sure Janus could see into his eyes, and could see that he was being truthful. “Virgil does know. He was hitting his rebellious phase, he was filling his role more. He got caught up in his own head, tricking himself into believing the opposite of what you meant, and that was making him more anxious than usual. That caused him to lash out in anger or isolate himself to give him a chance to calm down. You are not responsible for what happened to Virgil. He made his own choices. He still cares for you, all of us do, even Roman, but they don’t know you well enough now to be able to show you that they care.”

“But my powers—”

“Your powers are meant to protect Thomas. Yes, at times they can be used to cover up the truth, but the truth can often be ugly and harmful. The mission you have given yourself, keeping Thomas honest to himself, while the others cannot see it, I can. Thomas can. Your pursuit of justice within Thomas, it keeps him going, keeps him from breaking down over things that build up. You are as perfect as you can be, in fulfilling your role, in handling your relationships with us, in almost everything you do and are. You may not believe that about yourself now, but I will spend every day for the rest of our lives making sure you know what I believe.”

More tears spilled out of Janus’ eye, and he hiccuped quietly, rubbing at his face over Logan’s hand, trying to dry his wet cheeks. “You really believe that.”

“I do. And you believe so much about the others, in their strengths. Let yourself believe in you too.” Logan caressed Janus’ cheek with his thumb.

He buried his face in Logan’s neck, wiggling forward before relaxing more than he was. Taking a deep breath, he spoke again, in a small, cracking voice. “Can we sleep now?”

“Of course.” Logan took his glasses off and placed them next to the book, turning off the light. He wrapped his arms around the still trembling form of his partner and settled in.

He was going to make sure that Janus knew how much he meant to everyone, and even if that meant actually talking to the others about speaking to him, showing him that he wasn’t just meant for one single thing, then that’s what Logan would do. In the morning, though, because now he had someone dozing on him, someone who needed sleep as much as he did.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #ts logan #loceit #ts loceit #janus sanders #ts janus #ts patton #ts roman #ts remus #ts virgil #ts c!thomas #tw self deprecation #s.s. loceit #ketchup writes #tw flowers

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emsartwork · 4 years

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Sorry if you’ve already answered this but J was wondering if you could talk more the girls childhood/growing up? Love what you’re doing btw, absolutely adore how you’ve basically recreated the Winx world! 💗

Thank you!!! and sure thing! long post ahead

BLOOM: she never really had any problems family wise, Vanessa and Mike told her she was adopted at like…. Age 7 or so (in a positive affirming way obvi) and even if any kids teased her about it she never doubted her parent’s love for her. Even with Daphne’s spell helping her blend in with earth life, Bloom still had a nagging sense she didn’t “fit”, and got lost in fantasy books and art whenever possible. Growing up she deals with some body image issues that probably stem from the whole wrong fit feeling. Bloom grew up an artistic and quiet kid, Mitzi and Selina were her best friends from childhood, and because they both had really strong personalities, Bloom often repressed her own feelings in order to play peace maker. Up until high school, where Mitzi, who was always the leader, slowly started to turn into a bully in order to gain the approval/fear of her peers, targeting Selina specifically. Bloom was more of a follower at the time and just didn’t want to loose her friends so she didn’t stand up to Mitzi but tried to treat Selina as if nothing had changed, which was not cool with Selina and she not-so-subtly started to reject Bloom as a friend. Bloom, for her part, did get her shit together and stand up to Mitzi, loosing her only other friend right before her senior year of highschool (she was still technically friends with Andy but they had also just broken up and everything was awkward lmao). Bloom regrets not standing up to Mitzi sooner, and wants to rekindle her friendship with Selina (and Mitzi if she’s willing to tone down the bitchiness).

STELLA: So Stella’s childhood is a little more complicated. Stella is the first SoLuna heir in Solarian history, and a very loud minority protested her very existence. Stella also had to stay close to the Second Sun of Solaria as a child, so she had a very solitary and confined early childhood in a wing of the Solarian castle. When she did figure out how to sneak out she was only 10 or so, and spent most of the time just wandering around the capital city. She didn’t have any problems in the city, but an off duty guard recognized her and took her back to the palace. Stella was then sent to an elite boarding school under a false name (Sasha), she formed close friends with Nova and Varanda, but the trio was the target of the rest of the school’s bullies (for various reasons). Junior high was peak nerd Stella, but she “princess Diary-ed” herself when starting high school and started placing all of her value in her appearance and status as a sex object. Her parents’ marriage was also starting to crumble and Stella felt like she had lost their love. Because Stella craves validation and affection, this lead to a couple bad relationships because the only way she could get people to “love her” in her brain was through physical intimacy, even if it didn’t really fill the void she felt. Nova and Varanda were her rocks during this period and Stella was able to learn to love herself first with their help. Stella was insanely nervous to leave her friends and go to Alfea, and tried to force friendships with other people originally, (this mostly lead to people thinking she was annoying and getting multiple censures from Griselda), and her first genuine connection on Magix was with “Prince Sky” (Brandon). Nova and Varanda were VERY worried when Stella first told them about “Prince Sky”(Brandon) and how fast they had gotten into a relationship and they may have stalked/threatened him on a visit to Stella but they eventually came around and started to like him. Stella being expelled was only kind of an accident, Varanda texted Stella in the middle of a Chemancy class her application to Alfea for the next year had been accepted and Stella got SUPER excited and blew up the classroom. She probably could have stayed in school but her response to Fraragona and Griselda’s “now what do you have to say for yourself young lady” was *giddy laughter* and “ i only wish the explosion had been big enough to send me forward to next year!!!!!” and griselda was like “either she goes or I go” and Stella was like “ya gurl i gone” of course her time back on Solaria didn’t go exactly as planned as her parents were just fighting every time they tried to do something together making her people pleasing/self blaming tendencies worse.

FLORA: ahhh my baby So Flora does remember her father, not a lot and she feel guilty she doesn’t remember more, but she was only 7 when he died. Alyssa remarried when Flora was 13, and eventually she adjusted to having a younger sister who she loves very much now. Due to Rhodos’s nature preservation needing a lot of room for study Flora and Miele grew up pretty far away from any town and didn’t have a lot of friends. This is primarily why Flora and Miele are so close despite their age difference, and why Flora took her role as protector so intensely; she was the only one there (I mean besides the parents obviously). Flora did well in school though she was quiet and reserved, which made making friends even harder than living in the middle of nowhere. She figured out the best way to make people like her was to give them what they wanted, and this snowballed into Flora becoming kind of doormat not comfortable with voicing her true feelings and faking a lot what people expected from her. Flora has a lot of repressed…… everything (Bloom mostly just has a lot of repressed anger she’s good with other emotions lmao) she has trouble identifying what she’s feeling and for the most part is content to leave her feelings buried as long as the surface remains calm. The Winx do help her start to access her feeling more, and encourage her whenever she does voice an opinion. Helia is a perfect match for her in the sense that his quiet nature leaves Flora to express herself without trying to mold herself into whatever she thinks he wants (of course on the flip side this also means Flora and Helia have issues with communication and repression but that’s another topic).

AISHA: hoo boy another complicated one. Aisha was raised in a strict environment, this mostly stems from her parents and their more…. anxious natures, but royalty on Andros is not as free as some of the other planets. Aisha’s world consisted of lessons and adults and rules and she had very little control over her own life. Aisha met Anne in a rare moment of freedom in the tidal gardens where Anne’s father worked. Anne was biding her time waiting for her dad to get off work so they could grab some dinner and was dancing. Aisha just watched her for a while before Anne noticed her and asked her if she wanted to play. The two formed a fast friendship, and Aisha finally started to feel like she had some sort of influence in her own life as she snuck out of lessons to play with Anne every evening she could(obviously their favorite thing to do was dance lol) Unfortunately Anne and her father disappeared one night. Aisha lost her only friend, the only social outlet she had, her one source of freedom, and couldn’t even figure out what had happened. Feeling so out of control lead to a pretty bad anxiety disorder for most of her teens, primarily triggered by the dark or being trapped in some way. She also has issues trusting others and letting people help her. Aisha started to act out, trying to exert any kind of control and relieve some of her anxiety. Her risk taking behavior got pretty bad, but she had started to tone it down after she met and bonded with Piff(royal business trip to Magix she skipped out on). Of course when the pixies went missing she wasn’t going to let her friendship vanish again and tracked them down with a not so healthy single minded determination.

TECNA: born to higher class parents, Tecna had greatness thrust upon her from an early age. She received extra training and education basically from birth, which she was fine with for the most part. Tecna grew up being able to handle academic pressure very well and met all of her teacher’s and parent’s expectations. She and Riven had a brief collision as preteens in a school before Riven got expelled. Tecna’s one issue was that of her emotional intelligence, Zenith doesn’t really place an emphasis on that, so she was able to advance through high school very predictably until she attended a non-Zenith based workshop for magic. She found herself socially ostracized and very very confused. Of course Tecna had never met a subject she couldn’t master and emotions wouldn’t be an exception right??? Wrong. Zenith’s information about the brain and the chemicals produced was of no help, her teachers and parents didn’t understand why Tecna suddenly had this new interest in such an illogical subject, and worst of all, Tecna realized she didn’t understand her own brain chemicals. Tecna had a mini existential crisis, realized she had no idea what she even wanted to do with her life or why it mattered and applied to the Alfea Fairy program because “FAIRY MAGIC EMOTION MAGIC HELP” also it would offer her strong emotional experiences(transformations basically require it), the opportunity to work closely in groups, and personally obverse her dorm-mates emotional states. She got way more than she bargained for but doesn’t regret it a bit.

MUSA: my angst child T-T so basically, the first half of her childhood is p good, her parents work really hard and don’t always have enough money but the family unit is pretty stable. At around 12, Musa’s mom gets sick. Nobody is too worried at first, but she never seems to get better and she takes a big turn for the worse when Musa is about 16, Matlin is finally diagnosed with Core Failure Syndrome. CFS is similar to Core Fatigue, but while Core Fatigue can be remedied fairly easily with rest and magic, CFS is virtually incurable unless it’s caught really early. The causes are still unknown, and the symptoms (fatigue, nausea, cognition issues, and muscle weakness) can be prolonged but mild until it’s too late. In the later stages (extreme fatigue, numbness in the extremities, chest pain, joint pain, memory/focus issues, inability to keep food down) all you can do is try to make the afflicted comfortable. Ho-boe is understandably distraught, and tries to freelance write for music but goes into a pretty bad depressive state. Musa has a few odd jobs here and there, and thats mostly what’s keeping them afloat among heavy medical debt. Musa latches on to her mother for emotional support as Ho-boe is super dissociated. When Matlin does pass as Musa turns 18, Ho-boe finally breaks, and violently destroys every last reminder of Matlin because he can’t deal with the pain. Musa, who has suddenly had her one emotional anchor cut off, is super freaked out and scared by this and it really damages their relationship going forward. Musa becomes incredibly anxious, and can’t really process her mother's death because her father won’t talk about it with her and is still shut off emotionally. Moving to Magix only worsened it as Musa rebelled and went after music with a desperate passion. Applying to Alfea was a way for Musa to get out of the house, and she and her father weren’t on speaking terms when she did leave for the college. Musa had planned on learning more magic to further her career as a musician, special effects infusing magic into a song rubbing shoulders with rich and well connected people who could possibly get her connected to the big shots in music….. The winx situations had her change some of her long term plans a little, but her connection with the group + her separation anxiety and fierce loyalty didn’t really leave any other choice lol

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 46

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @ocfairygodmother

Everything hurts.

Back. Shoulder. Knee. Head. Especially the head. A ferocious, pounding that has settled above and behind his eyes and in his temples. Even the sliver of sunlight that manages its way past his heavy lids tortures him; an incessant burn that seems to travel right through every optic nerve and straight into his brain. And he winces and groans in agony and yanks the comforter up over his head, attempting to will away the throbbing and the slight nausea and lightheadedness.

He can’t remember the last time he had a hangover; body and mind so accustomed to a lifestyle of excessive drinking that they’d stopped being affected. The worst that would happen would be passing out and staying that way for ten to twelve hours. Sometimes even longer depending on many Oxy he’d taken. There were days -more often than not- where’d he wake up disappointed; upset that no matter how much he’d had to drink and how many pills he popped, he was still alive; stuck in a shitty, miserable existence filled with enormous guilt and regret and unlimited self loathing.

But this...this suffering takes him back to his high school days; drinking too much at house parties or at get togethers on the beach and then passing out whenever he was standing or sitting at the time. The mornings after were always brutal; the headaches and dizziness, the way you tongue felt thick and dry and it seemed as if your mouth was stuffed with cotton. And the nausea. That queasy, unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach and the burn of bile in your throat.

He regrets it. Every shot, every pitcher of beer he helped drain, every sip of scotch. And he wishes he’d never even agreed to ever go to that bar; option for a quiet night at home instead of all the noise and all those people. All that booze. It’s a blur; the crowd, too many conversations happening at once, the deafening music, the lights way too bright. And Millie’s teacher. Propositioning him at the bar. Making comments about his scars and asking about his job and assuming his marriage was in trouble and he was willing to ‘hook up’. THAT’S going to make trips to the school awkward. Parent/teacher interview night should be a lot more interesting and entertaining now, having to sit across from someone who is supposed to be educating your kid but weeks or months ago wanted your dick and you had to shoot them down.

It’s like a cocoon under the heavy, down filled blanket; a warm, confined, safe place. Quiet and relaxing. Secure. As if nothing exists outside of it. Just him and that soft body pressed tightly against his. The smell of her hair as he nestles his face against the back of her neck; the heat that radiates off her enough to soothe some of his aches and pains. He needs this time. The minutes. The hours. The moments were it’s just them. Where the world around them is silent and still and life seems as if it’s at a standstill. In less than two weeks, these moments will cease to exist. At least temporarily. He’ll be in Mumbai; in the stifling heat and the oppressive humidity, making his way through the list of names Anil had given him. Checking them off one by one if he has to. Leaving nothing but a trail of blood and broken bodies in his wake.

He pushes those thoughts away. It’s the last thing he wants to be thinking about. Mumbai. Mahajan and his people. How long he’ll actually be gone for. If he’ll even make it back. All he wants to do is concentrate on the next ten days. On their get away to The Kimberley; four days and three nights alone with his wife. No kids to worry about -although they will from afar- and no interruptions and time to actually talk and pay attention to what is being said. And Millie’s birthday party. Newly six with all her classmates and her new puppy; completely oblivious to the treats being made and the stress her parents are under. He’s no longer anxious about it; the nightmares of Austin taking her from them have stopped and the illogical fear of her waking up deathly ill is starting to subside. It’s still there; the inkling of worry that something could go wrong. But with each that passes where she’s healthy and happy and strong, that concern lessens.

Right now he focuses on what’s right in front of him. That soft, supple body pressed against him. Her back to his front and one of his legs draped over hers and the tip of his nose against the side of her neck. HE blindly searches for one of her hands; lacing his fingers with hers and then placing a series of feathery kisses along her jaw. And she stirs against him when he reaches the corner of her mouth; eyes never opening as she turns her face into his. The resulting kiss is long and slow. Lazy. Bare legs sliding against each other; her fingers tightening around his as she lays their joined hands against her stomach.

Esme pulls back to look at him; eyes half open, brow slightly furrowed. “Why do you smell so good all of a sudden? And why do I taste mint?”

“I got up in the middle of the night and took a shower. Brushed my teeth.”

“I told you that you smelled awful.You know it’s bad when you can’t stand your own stench.”

“I actually did it because I couldn’t sleep.”

“That drunk and you couldn’t sleep? That’s a first. It used to knock you out for at least eight hours.”

Tyler shrugs. “Slept for a couple hours, woke up, couldn’t go back.”

“Did the baby wake up?”

“She slept through.”

Frowning, she brings his hand up to check his watch. “It’s quarter after six. She’s been sleeping since eleven. That’s weird for her. Did you check on her?”

“Twice.”

She arches an eyebrow.

“Okay, it was three times. I can’t help it. I worry. Doesn’t matter if it’s the first or the fifth. But she’s fine. Just not hungry. Doctor said to let her sleep if she doesn’t wake up to eat.”

“She’s tiny. VERY tiny. She needs to eat.”

“She’s tiny like her mom. She’s not going to be like the rest of them. She’s fine. Just let her sleep. The longer they all sleep the better.”

“I know why you’re saying that,” she says with a grin, and rolls over to face him. “You’re hopeful.”

“A little.”

“Just a little?” She pushes a hand through his hair, nails lightly digging into the back of his neck as she presses her lower body against his. “Feels like a lot.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

“I’m surprised you’re even coherent this morning. You were pretty trashed. Do you remember anything?”

“I remember you changed the lock on the door,” he teases.

“I did not change the lock. You just forgot how keys work.”

“And I know I didn’t get any.”

“And…”

“And I know I had a mental breakdown and cried like a little bitch.”

She scowls. “First off, you’re not a little bitch. Far from it. You wouldn’t have all those scars and had all those broken bones or concussions or all that time in the hospital if you were a little bitch. A little bitch is not capable of doing the things you can do. Second, you were emotional. So what? I like that side of you. The who isn’t afraid to cry. It’s very sexy. A man that shows emotion.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she presses a kiss to his lips. “ Beside, if you can’t be emotional in front of me, who can you be emotional in front of?”

“No one. There’s only you.”

“Exactly. So stop being so worried about it making you soft. Or weak. You are neither of those things. You never have been.”

“I don’t know. I distinctly remember you having to help me to the bathroom when I used to come home on the weekends from the rehab place.”

“You’d just gotten over being shot in the throat. Among other things. No one is going to fault you for needing some help. You used to do things like that for me. All the times I’ve been pregnant. You'd help me into the bathtub, you’d tie my shoes for me, you’d put up with my three am cravings.”

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” he says. “I’m the guy.”

“This is a two way street, buddy. We do things for each other. So I don’t want to hear any of your toxic masculinity bullshit. That’s your father talking.”

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“You could NEVER be like him. You’d never let yourself get like that. I’D never let you get like that. You’re not your father, Tyler. You’re so far from it. You’re a good husband and you’re a great feather. Our kids love you. They don’t fear you.”

“Do you?”

“What? Fear you? No. And I never have. Why would you even ask that?”

“What about in Dhaka? When I grabbed your throat. Were you scared then?”

“Nope. You were angry. You reacted. Yes, you reacted BADLY. But I could see it in your eyes. You weren’t going to hurt me. It was the last thing you wanted to do. I wasn’t scared of you then, and I’m not scared of you now.”

“You’d tell me though, right? If I ever did? Scare you?”

“I wouldn’t just tell you. I’d probably throat punch you.”

He chuckles at that.

“You may intimate and scare the people you’re supposed to intimate and scare, but I’ve never felt that way with you. I know you in ways those people don’t. And I know you’re not capable of hurting me or the kid. You’re a good man. You’re a GREAT man. And I wish you’d realize that. I wish you’d see yourself the way I see you.”

He tucks wayward strands of hair behind her ear. “How do you see me?”

“I see you as strong. Brave. Fiercely loyal and protective. I see you as the sexiest, most beautiful man in the world. I see you as an amazing father. As my best friend. My biggest supporter. My lover. My husband. I see you as all those things.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Well you’re a big man,” she reasons, and then smiles when he presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose. “You’re a big man with an even bigger heart. You just sometimes have to do bad things. To bad people.”

“It makes sense you know, that I’d end up with you. Someone that lived that life. That knows what it’s like. No one else would be able to deal with it. Accept it. Knowing that I’ve killed people. That I’m going to KEEP killing people.”

“It’s not all you do,” she reminds him. “The number of people you’ve helped is a lot higher than the people you’ve killed. But you’re right. Someone who’s never lived that life wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t be able to deal with it.”

“Guess I’m pretty lucky you showed up at my place that day.”

“I don’t know, I think I’m pretty lucky too. After everything that I went through with Mark; all the things he did to me. All the damage he caused. You came along and you fixed all of that. You fixed ME. You came into my life when I’d given up on finding someone that would love me. I’d given up on MYSELF. He made me feel like nothing and you make me feel like something. Every time you look at me or touch me or kiss me or we make love. You make me feel beautiful and amazing and worthy. All the things I’d never felt before. All the things I never thought I could be.”

“You ARE all those things.”

“Because you’re the one that brought them out. Who makes me feel all of that. You talk about how lucky you are, but I’m just as lucky. If not more. You talk about how I saved you, but you never think about how you saved me.

He doesn’t think about it. He’s never even considered it outside of the decisions he’d made to get her safely across the Sultana Kamal Bridge. And even now he questions those decisions from time to time; if there’d been a way he could have avoided sending her with Ovi and Saju, or anything he could have done differently to prevent the near catastrophic ending. But he’s never thought beyond those things. Never actually considering just how he was helping her heal and get over the trauma that Mark had caused. Just doing it. Just doing whatever he had to and hoping for the best.

“I don’t think you understand how loved you actually are,” she says “By me. By your children. We’d be pretty lost and miserable without you.”

Swallowing around the lump of emotion that sits square in his throat, he combs his fingers through her hair; pushing it off her forehead and placing a soft kiss against the smooth skin. It’s those little kisses that she often enjoys the most. The ones to the brow or the cheeks or temple or against ears or along her jaw. Even those repetitive pecks to the lips; the ones where you pull back and smile at each other between each one. Those small intimate moments...brief snippets...where they connect outside of simply raising a family together.

“We’ll go to Mumbai,” she tells him, as she rests her forehead against the bridge of his nose; fingers racing the tattoo on his left shoulder. “IF you can get us a safe place to stay. IF you talk to Anil and he can help you find something. With people keeping an eye on things and armed guards or whatever else or whoever else needs to be there to keep Mahajan away.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Tyler promises. “I don’t think there’s much he CAN’T do.”

“You’ll have to tell him about the puppy. We can’t give Millie a puppy for her birthday and then expect her to be separated from him. That’s cruel.”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll get everything worked out.”

“Because it would make me feel a lot better too if you weren’t so far away. Even being in the same county would be better. Not thousands of miles between us. I need that for my own piece of mind. If anything happens to you or any of the kids, it’s better if neither of us are too far away.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you or the kids,” he confidently assures her.

“I notice you didn’t put yourself in there.”

He gives a small, tight lipped smile.

“You’re going to be okay too,” she says, as her fingers move to the ink on his neck and the scar -one of many- left behind from Dhaka. “Like you said, you’ll be able to focus better if we’re close and you’re constantly worrying about what’s going on here. And you need to be focused. You need to be able to put all your attention into things and I know you’ll be able to if the kids and I are there.”

He lays a hand on the side of her face and kisses her softly. “Thank you. I know it’s not easy for you to do this. Especially with the kids.”

“It’s just better this way. If we’re not far apart. What you said last night...if something did happen and you did die over there…” her voice cracks and tears well in her eyes. “...I mean, I know it’s not going to happen and I hate even thinking about it and I feel horrible for saying it and…”

“Calm down,” he gently implores. “Just breathe. Everything’s fine.”

“...and I know you’re going to be okay. But hypothetically speaking, if something did happen and you didn’t make it, I don’t want you being stuck there. If I’m already there, I can find you and bring you home. I don’t want you being left there. I’d want to bring you back where I know you’d be finally able to rest.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he pushes a hand through her hand and tightly grips the back of her head as he kisses her forehead. “Nothing like that’s going to happen.”

“I know. But it makes me feel better to know if something does, you won’t be left there.”

“I meant what I said you know. About you finding someone else. I will haunt him.”

She laughs at that, and he gently brushes her tears away with his fingertips. “There wouldn’t be anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. You’re it for me. Wherever it’s next month of fifty years down the road.

“I’m hoping for the fifty years.”

“Me too. You’re still going to love me when I’m wrinkled and gray and can barely hear anymore?”

“I’m going to love you always. No matter what.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to his lips and then tucks her head snuggly under his chin; hands sliding around to the nape of his neck and up onto the back of his head.

“Everything’s going to work out.” he promises, as he drops a kiss on the top of her head and wraps both arms around her.

And he holds her, as tightly as she’ll allow, until the sounds of life...THEIR life...begin stirring in the rooms above.

****

“So do we tell the kids to call you Uncle Koen or Grandpa Koen?” Esme asks as they sit in the surf. Koen in a lawn chair with his feet in the water and her on the ground beside him’ Addie between her legs and resting back against her stomach.

He frowns down at her. “Grandpa? How old do you think I am?”

“According to Tyler, you were already wet behind the ears when the Pony Express was still delivering the man.”

“That little fucker,” Koen scoffs. “He’s starting to forget that he’s no spring chicken himself. Gonna hit the big four-one soon. You think he’d be starting to slow down, not getting ready to speed things back up again.”

“He’s not the type that can still for too long. He always has to be doing something.”

“Well you think having little ones to chase around and care for would give him ‘something’. He’s got five of them. How he’s not worn out from all of them rugrats, I certainly don’t understand.”

“It’s a different pace,” she reasons. “”He was used to something much more strenuous. Faster. Unpredictable.”

“Dangerous.” Koen offers.

She nods, then tightens the strap on Addie’s sunhat. “Unfortunately.”

“I don’t know if he told you or not, but when he came out to my place a couple weeks back, I gave him quite the talking to. About getting back into things. About becoming a merc again and starting his own business. Basically told him he’s a fucking dumb ass. Pardon my language around little ears.”

“Oh, she’s heard way worse already, trust me. Tyler has no filter. Millie already knows all the worst words and she doesn’t hesitate when it comes to using them. She’s got a month on her. And it’s all daddy’s fault.”

“He’s a good one, ain’t he,” Koen remarks, as he takes a pull from the bottle of beer in his hand. “A daddy.”

“He is. He’s an amazing dad.” There’s a smile on her face as she says it, and she scoops up a handful of water and sprinkles it along Addie’s legs. “He’s gentle and he’s loving but he doesn’t coddle them. Treats them like intelligent little beings instead of babying them all the time. He’s so good with them. And they adore him. They worship the ground he walks on, actually. Especially Millie. There’s no one on earth she loves like she loves her daddy. And God help anyone that tries to take him away from her. She will pitch a fit like no other. She will throw down with someone if they mess with daddy; no doubt in my mind.”

Koen grins. “So she’s basically her mom that way.”

“Yeah,” Esme laughs. “I’d throat punch someone if they hurt him or messed with him. I’ve seen him go through too much. No one is going to fuck with him on my watch. But he is. A good dad. He’s an incredible dad, honestly. I swear he has the patience of a saint. You know, it’s weird. When I first found out about Millie, I was so scared to tell him. We barely knew each other and he was in the hospital and in constant pain and trying to heal and going through all kinds of therapies and I thought the last he needed was something like that. And he was freaked out, but he wasn’t THAT freaked out, know what I mean?”

Koen nods.

“I think I was losing it more than he was,” she continues. “And I told him that I didn’t expect anything from him; if he didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby, I’d leave and never contact him again. That things were so screwed up and I didn’t want to force him to be a dad. That was the last thing I wanted. Not when he already had so much on his plate.”

“Not surprised he didn’t go for that,” Koen remarks. “Knowing he had a kid on the way and having already lost one. He wasn’t letting the chance to to be a daddy again get away from him. Gave him something to live for. Made all the pain and suffering during the aftermath of that Dhaka bullshit worth it. He had something to look forward to; something to keep going. And I’m not talking about just the baby and you know it.”

She smiles.

“He was pretty crazy about you even then, even if it did scare him. He told me as much. That you scared him.”

Esme glances over her shoulder. “He said that about me?”

Koen nods. “He was pretty into it. Into you. Freaked him out; feeling things like that about someone he just met. Last girl who made him feel things like that...well that didn’t end so well, did it.”

“No. It didn’t. I only met her that one time. When his dad brought her to the hospital. What a disaster THAT was.”

“Could have throttled ‘em both,” Koen scowls. “Neither had a right to be there. That old man is better off dead. What he did to that boy when he was growing up? What he did to his mother? He should be in hell where he belongs. And that Sarah?” he scoffs. “What a train wreck THAT was. Don’t think there wasn’t around she wasn’t fucking around on him. I used to tell him to just let her go. Kick her ass out. But he wouldn’t do it. And then she got knocked up and that was that. Used to question if the kid was even his. Looked nothing alike and the kid didn’t look anything like his mother, either. But…” he swigs his beer. “...he stuck around. Felt he was doing the right thing, I suppose.”

“Like he did with me?”

“He didn’t just stick around for the baby and you know it. Naw, he was pretty deep into it already. He didn’t say it, but I could see it. The way his eyes would light up the second you walked in the room. Even his voice would change when he talked about you. I hadn’t heard that or seen that in him in a hell of a long time. That’s when I knew you were a keeper. If you could make a man like THAT...a man with all that darkness and all those issues...actually smile and feel like life’s worth living? Well I’m glad you stuck around.”

She grins and nudges his leg with her elbow. “Koen, you big softie.”

“I know he ain’t the easiest of bastards to live with. You deserve some kind of award for putting up with the likes of him. I’m not married to him and even I want to kill him sometimes.”

“It seems like forever ago,” she says. “So much has happened since then. Since Dhaka. My family didn’t think we’d even make it past a year. It’s been seven since we met. We’ve been married for six and a half. We went from one kid to five. That’s surreal.”

“Fucking insane is what it is. You’re both right out of your damn minds. Repopulating the world all on your own.”

“He wants an even half dozen. I’m not too sure about that. I’m not quite sold on the idea yet.”

“He does realise he can have the fun of making babies not but not actually make any, yeah?”

Esme laughs at that. “He’s got in his head that he needs to leave a legacy behind. Some kind of proof that he did something good with his life. He doesn’t realize that he’s many good things. And he doesn’t need to prove that to anyone. Not even to himself.”

“Stubborn bastard that one,” Koen says, and then glances down the beach to where Ovi and Tyler are immersed in conversation while Declan stands at the edge of the water, tossing tennis balls into the ocean for Sadie and Mac to fetch. “He’s pretty fond of that kid, ain’t he.”

Esme uses her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looks over at what’s caught his attention. “Ovi’s pretty fond of him, too. He always has been. Even in Dhaka. Especially near the end. He looks up to Tyler. Respects him. Wants to emulate him. We’ve both spent five and a half years trying to get him out of that, but…” she shrugs and turns her attention back to Addie. “...it didn’t work. He adores Tyler. He’s the dad Ovi should have had. The one I wish he COULD have had. He even calls him dad. Not to his face, but he refers to him as his dad. When he was still in school and would talk about his dad, people would be so confused when Tyler would show up to things. He was NOT what they were expecting. But Ovi’s ours. We look at him like he is. We love him like he is.”

Koen nods slowly, considering her words. “Think we can trust him?”

“Who? Ovi? Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“He’s been in contact with his old man, hasn’t he?”

“Not by choice. He’s still terrified of him. That man is a monster. He’s ruined so many lives. Even his own son’s. I hate thinking about what would have happened to Ovi if we’d left him in Mumbai.”

“Kid seems pretty torn up every time someone mentions doing away with the old man.”

“It’s not easy to hear. That people want to kill your father. That they ARE going to kill him. Even if the old man is Satan himself, he’s still his father.”

“What about his mother? Does he have one?”

“She died when he was three. I don’t know how. He doesn’t like to talk about it and I don’t pressure him. I don’t even know if Tyler knows. I have my suspicions about what happened to her, but that’s all they are. Suspicions.”

“You think the old man had something to do with it?”

“It’s possible. I mean, he’s a horrible person. Look what he did to Saju; who’d been nothing but loyal to him. It wouldn’t surprise me if his wife didn’t tow the line and he got rid of her.”

“Think he’d tell him? That we’re coming?”

“I doubt it. Ovi wants this nightmare over just as much as any of us do. Why?” she glances up at him. “You don’t trust him?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea that the kid comes along is all.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea that ANY of you are going,” she says. “But I hardly have a say in it. I can’t stop Tyler from doing this. No one can. He’s doing it to protect me. And our kids. You don’t fuck with his family. He’s fiercely protective; sometimes to a fault. But I trust when he says he’s going to end this. He won’t stop until every one of those men on the list are dead. And to be honest, I don’t want him to.”

“So you’re okay with this? This whole idea? Mumbai?”

“No. But if Tyler says this is what has to be done, it needs to be done. I trust him. He’s the one person I DO trust. Especially when it comes to my kids.”

“What about getting back into the job? Being a merc okay? You’re okay with that?”

“I told him if that’s what he needed to do...if he needs that escape so badly and it would keep him sane and happy...that he should go back. And having the business means he won’t have to be so hard core into it. He won’t have to be away from home so much. Because I need him here. So do the kids. He’ll be in the job, but not right in it. And I’m good with that.”

Koen frowns. “He should be home all the damn time. With you. With his kids. None of this job shit. He needs to let that go. That part of him. He needs to walk away from it and never look back.”

“But he can’t,” Esme says. “It won’t let him rest. Not yet. And I need it to. I need it to let him go. And it’s not going to. I don’t know if it ever will.”

“And if it doesn’t? Let him go?”

“We make it work, I guess. We have to somehow make it work and cope with it. I know it doesn’t make much sense; that I’m doing all of this. But I love him. So much it physically hurts sometimes. And if it’s the only thing that’s going to keep him sane and functioning, I have to give him that.”

“You’re a lot more understanding than I would be. I’d be kicking his ass out. Making stupid decisions like that.”

“You know as well as I do that when Tyler’s mind is set on something, you can’t change it. Things will be better this time. Different. Now that he’s the boss, he can stay behind the scenes and let everyone else get their hands dirty. And this will be good for him; it’ll give him something to do. A sense of purpose. He doesn’t feel like he has that right now.”

“That’s bullshit,” Koen snarls. “He’s got all kinds of purpose. He’s got you, the kids…”

“It doesn’t make sense, I know. But that’s how his brain is working. It makes sense to Tyler and that’s what matters. And I’m worried about him and I need you to keep an eye on him. Because he’s been struggling, Koen. Badly. With the PTSD and the depression and the anxiety.”

“And the drinking.”

She sighs. “And the drinking. Six months. He was sober for half a year. He was doing so good. And then all this started and it went to hell and now look where we are. Look how drunk he was last night. He was a mess. And I’m pissed off that none of you tried to stop him. You just let him do it. Get that out of control. When you saw him getting that bad, why didn’t any of you step in?”

“I have no excuse for that,” Koen admits. ”No reasons. I should have. Stepped in and got him to stop when things got out of hand. But he’s not an easy man to control and…”

“If I can stop him, any of you can. I’m five foot nothing. He’s six three. He has a hundred pounds on me, if not more. If I can talk sense into him, there’s no reason why you couldn’t have done it. And then you bring him home like THAT? So I can deal with him. So I can be the one that takes care of a grown ass man AND five kids.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I’m…”

“And now he’s going to Mumbai. On a job. And I’m supposed to trust him with you guys. I’m supposed to trust that you’ll have his back and that you won’t let him do anything stupid. And I’m not just talking about drinking. I’m talking about the job. If guys don’t have his back, he might as well be going there alone.”

“We have his back,” Koen assures her. “One hundred percent,”

“I hope so. I really do. Because I need him to come home, Koen. Alive. I need my husband and my kids need their father. And I need you guys to watch over him. To make sure he comes back. I need to know that he’s going alone out there. That he has people he can trust.”

“He’s got us,” Koen says. “We’ve got him. We’ll make sure he comes home. He’s smart. He’s tough. Resilient. Nothing’s going to stop him from getting the job done and hauling ass back here. He knows he’s got a good thing. May not always say it or show it, but he knows. And if he ever forgets, you just call me and I’ll come here and beat his ass into the middle of next week.”

“Whose ass are you beating now?” Tyler asks, as he and Ovi join them, the latter wading out into the water with Declan on his hip.

“Yours,” Koen directs a kick at his friend’s back side before he can take a seat in the sand. “If you’ve been hurting for a good ass kicking for a long time, I reckon. Surprise this little thing hasn’t brought you to your knees yet.”

“Oh she has. She’s brought me to them many times. Just not the way you’re thinking.”

Esme snorts and digs an elbow into her husband’s side.

“He knows we have sex,” Tyler reasons. “It’s not a secret. We have five kids.”

“I was telling her that if you didn’t treat her right, I’m going to come here and beat your ass,” Koen says. “And then I’m gonna steal her away and let her see what a real man can do for her.”

Tyler smirks. “Where you gonna find a real man?”

“You cheeky fucker. How do you put up with him, kid? How do you tolerate his shit?”

“He puts up with me,” Esme says. “I’m not the easiest person to live with. But he’s still here. For some reason.”

“Trust me when I say it’s NOT her cooking,” Tyler says, and then leans into her with his shoulder; giving her a playful wink and a kiss on the cheek before taking Addie from her. Laying the baby along both forearms, her head in his palms as he carefully lowers her into the water. “And you have to kill me old man. To get her away from me. That really the hill you want to die on?”

“I think the two are made for each other,” Koen grumbles.

“Yeah…” Tyler grins at her. “I think we are too.”

****

Dinner with Anil and Allison had gone well. Both extremely pleased -and grateful- with the deal that had been quickly reached. The former had offered up his own home in Mumbai for Esme and the kids (and the new puppy, once he’d heard what the name was); an extremely well guarded and safe estate within its own locked and secure five acre compound. He immediately understood Tyler’s need to have his family close and Esme’s fear of being too far away if the worst case scenario came to fruition. The thought of a body not being returned home would be far more distressing than the actual death itself. Every job holds the possibility of not coming back; that is something you come to expect and learn to live with. But the thought of not having your loved one come back to you at all, is a bitter and horrible pill to try and swallow. It’s happened with many mercs; gruesome deaths and the inability of anyone to go and recover the body. Another reason why many die single; no spouse, girlfriend, or significant other willing to deal with such a high price.

Everything will be handled by Anil and his people; twenty four house staff and heavily armed guards and an elaborate security system. Bedrooms for all the children and everything needed properly to care for a baby; toys and bikes and whatever the kids need to keep them occupied and happy, even an offer of tutors to come in and work on school tasks. No expense being spared. For Tyler it makes the stress and the worry easier to bear; knowing that not only will he not be separated from his family by thousands of miles, every effort will be put into keeping them safe. They’ll arrive two days after him, and he’ll be staying at a different location; bouncing from hotel to hotel with Nathan, Ovi, Koen, and Anil. It’s far safer to keep moving then to settle down in one spot; staying at the house would only bring unnecessary attention to Esme and the kids. When deemed safe by the security, visits -including overnight- would be allowed. It isn’t the best arrangement, but a necessary one.

Tyler stands in the kitchen doorway and watches as she moves around the room; finishing the kids’ school lunches, mixing bottles of formula (to give Koen and Ovi at least a couple days head start) and dropping three frozen waffles into the toaster. She’s still clad in the dress she’d work to dinner. Classic black and off the shoulder; fitting like a second skin and reaching just below the knee. He’d been rendered speechless when she’d first walked out of the bedroom hours earlier; not remembering the last time he’d seen her like THAT. She’s always beautiful in his eyes. Whether it’s fresh out of the shower or when she first wakes up in the morning and her eyes are still puffy and blurry from sleep and her hair is a mess. Or even she’s been up for two days caring for a colicky baby. But that...with her hair up and make up and that dress showing off every curve that carrying five children has graced her with...is a beauty that surpasses all.

“Hey,” she cheerfully greets, as she glances up while buttering the waffles. “Kids asleep?”

“All five.”

“I don’t know how Ovi does it. He’s got that magic touch or something. Every time he watches them, they’re all asleep when we get home. Not one of them is awake. How? How does he do it? We put them to bed and we spend two hours fetching drinks of water and herding them back to their rooms.”

“Maybe he drugs them. Maybe THAT’S his secret. It’s not magic. He puts tranqs in that water.”

“Maybe he can give me some, then. I could use a couple right now. Or half a dozen. At least dinner went well. Anil’s pretty reasonable, don’t you think?” She takes a bite out of one of the waffles. “There wasn’t one thing he didn’t agree with. About me and the kids coming to Mumbai.”

“He’s a businessman. He knows what people want to hear and he knows how to give them what they want. And he’s got all the money in the world apparently.”

“How does a guy like him get so rich? What did he do before what he does now?”

“He was special forces. Same as Saju.”

“And in only seven years he’s become THAT rich?”

“Have you seen what he charges people for his services. He charges twice as much...if not more...than he pays his employees. You think it hurt him to give us what he did? That’s probably pocket change to him. Even AFTER he pays us and our mercs, it doesn’t start to scratch the surface.”

“Just seems weird. For it to happen THAT quick.”

“Look how quick we got money. Not just from him. Look what happened in Ireland. Five million for ten minutes of work.”

“You and I remember Ireland very differently.”

“It wasn’t THAT bad.” He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge, a jar of vegemite from the cupboard, and a knife from the drainboard by the sink, then joins her at the island.

“Says the guy who got hit in the head with a metal shovel. You and your fetish for garden tools.” She frowns when he opens the jar of vegemite and reaches for one of the waffles. “Please tell me you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“Please don’t eat that stuff in front of me. You know I hate that stuff.”

“It’s good shit.”

“It is not good shit. Oh my God…” she dramatically gags when he spreads vegemite on the waffle. “...Tyler James...ughhh...you’re gross.”

“You used to eat peanut butter sandwiches with onions AND hot peppers on it and you call me gross?”

“I was pregnant with Declan,” Esme argues. “I had weird ass cravings with him. None of my cravings with the other ones were that bad.”

“I don’t know. I remember you putting strawberry jelly on pizza when you were having the twins. Remember the ice cream when you were having Millie? Rocky road and I’d have to melt peanut butter and put that AND chocolate sauce on it.”

“Oh my god that was so good. You even liked it.”

“I swear I put on twenty five sympathy pounds.”

“You needed to. You lost a lot of weight after Dhaka. And now look at you. All thick and muscley and a whole week's worth of snacks. With your massive forearms and big thighs and your cute butt that sticks out.”

Tyler grins. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe. Is it working? Do you like it? If we were in a bar and I started chatting you up, would you let me pick you up?”

“I would definitely nail you in the bathroom.”

“That’s it? What if I complimented your big forearms and hands and called your eyes pretty?”

“I would have let you take me home. For sure.”

“Would you have called me the next day?”

“Yup. I know how good your head game is.”

“So THAT’S why you stick around. You don’t want the long hunt funding someone who does it just right.”

“That’s one of the reasons.”

“What are the other ones?”

“I love you. You’ve given me five beautiful children. And a reason to live.”

She smiles at that, and he leans in to kiss her. “Ewww,” she grimaces. “Vegemite.”

“Try a little bit,” he implores.

“I’ve tried it. I hate it.”

“Just a bit. You might not like it now.”

“I’m never going to like it. Don’t!” she pushes his hand away when he holds the waffle near her mouth. “Get it away from me.”

“It’s not THAT bad.”

“I will puke on you,” she warns. “And not even apologize.”

“Here.” He grabs a hold of the back of her head with one hand and presses the food to her lips with the other.

“You fucker!” She playfully shoves him away, then vigorously wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. “Oh god. I can taste it. I’m never going to get rid of that taste.”

“You’ve had worse things in your mouth.”

“You’re gross,” she grumbles, and grabs one of the bottles of water. “You’re gross and a pig and I don’t know how I put up with you. That is so nasty. YOU’RE nasty. That’s not friends.”

“Is that what we are?” he grins. “Friends?”

“With benefits. Which you’re getting any of for a while doing shit like that.”

“Come here…” He reaches out and tangles his fingers in her hair and pulls her into him.

“I’m not kissing you when you’re eating that stuff. No way.”

“Not even if I tell you that you looked amazing tonight? Not even if I tell you that you were the most beautiful woman there and that I was so fucking proud that you were there with me? Will you kiss me then?”

“I suppose,” she dramatically sighs, and then lays her hand on the side of his face as he covers her lips with his in a long, slow, deep kiss. The tip of his tongue skimming along the rough of her mouth before he draws away. “By the way,” she says. “You clean up pretty good. You haven’t worn one of these…” she tugs on the tie -now worn loosely- around his neck. “...since we got married.”

“You like it?”

“I do. It’s handsome and it’s distinguished and very sexy. But I think I prefer the way you usually dress. More casual. Jeans and t-shirts with holes in them and baseball hats. And board shorts. We can’t forget your board shorts. All thirty pairs of them.”

“It’s really only twenty eight, but…”

She grins as he presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. “That’s the Tyler I know. And I can’t lie. The thought of seeing you in a tactical vest again...all sweaty and dirty...it kind of turns me on. Just a bit.”

“Just a bit, huh?”

“Just a tiny bit. Like a lot. Like a lot, lot.”

“I’ll have to make conjugal visits. Leave the vest on when I come over.”

“I might not be able to control myself. I might throw you down and have my way with you.”

“I wouldn’t put up a fight. Just saying.”

“I know why you can’t stay with us. I totally get it. But it still kind of sucks.”

“Yeah,” Tyler nods. “It does. But at least we’re in the same country. Hopefully in the same city. Or close by.”

“I’ll feel better knowing you’re THAT close. The kids won’t understand why they can’t see you.”

“We’ll figure something out to tell them. At least they’ll know that I’m not far away and I can get to them pretty quick if I have to.”

She nods.

“It’s all going to work out,” he promises, and lays a hand on the side of her head and presses a kiss to her temple. “I have something for you.”

“You do, do you?”

“One of your surprises from the other day. From the kids. They asked me to give it to you so you could have it while we’re away.”

“From the kids?”

He nods.

“Something tells me it’s actually from you.”

“The other one is from me. You’ll get that one WHILE we’re away. It’s from the kids.” He opens the cupboard below the island and pulls out a small gift bag; adorned with unicorns and rainbows and glitter. “Millie picked that out by the way. In case you can’t tell.”

“That girl loves her glitter. And this from them? The kids?”

“Yup.”

“You’re lying, but okay…” She takes the bag from him and sets it on the counter. “What did you do?” she asks, as she pulls out a long, rectangular jewellery box.

“Just a little something. From the kids.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“Okay, it’s from me too. I’m the one who had to pay for it. But it was their idea.”

“You know I’m not good at surprises.”

“I know. You’re the worst person to buy stuff for. But it’s from your kids. They thought it up and they wanted you to have something pretty.”

She smiles. “They said that?”

He nods. “They said that mommy deserves pretty things and I agreed. So open it.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” she says, but snaps open the lid on the box. A piece of purple beach glass encased in an intricate cage of rose gold, and dangling from a chain of the same.

“Millie found it and wanted me to do something with it for you,” Tyler explains. “So I did.”

“It’s beautiful,” she turns her tear filled eyes towards him. “I love it. Thank you.”

He kisses her softly, face cradled in his palms. Her soft skin a striking contrast to the rough calluses on his palms and the tips of his fingers.

“You’re too good to me,” she declares.

“Sometimes I think I’m not good enough,” he admits.

“You’ve always been way more than someone like me deserves.”

“You’re full of shit,” he says, then kisses her forehead and takes the necklace from the box; stepping behind her to clasp it around her neck. “You like it?”

“I love it. It’s perfect. Our kids are perfect. YOU’RE perfect.”

“That last part? I dunno about that.”

“You’re perfect for me,” she says. “And that’s all that matters.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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k1ngtok1 · 4 years

Text

“What child doesn’t wish to fly”

Hi hello yes if you know me, you know I love me some winged!Roman. Hope you like it! Please give me some feedback! Reblogs and likes are appreciated and cherished! The word count is 2,603

Tw: Knife mention, blood mention, remus being remus, mild cursing, pain,

Relationships: brotherly Creatitwins, platonic LAMP, prinxiety if you squint and put on glasses

Summary: Roman has wings. Let’s not shy around that. They were big, fluffy, brown angel wings, and they were awesome!

At least to him.

Roman sighed as he easily slipped on a hoodie that looked almost exactly like his tunic. It wasn’t a recording day, so he could wear something a little more comfortable than his usual outfit. Tucking his wings into said hoodie was the hard part.

“W-why won’t you just- c’mon” he grunted angrily, trying to tuck the lower feathers of his wings into his jacket or at least his pants. It would be uncomfortable sitting on them, but if it meant the other sides didn’t find out, then he would bear with it.

“Kiddo! Breakfast is ready!” Patton chirped from outside the door. Roman panicked a little, he couldn’t let Patton come in, lest he see.

“I’m getting ready! Be out in a moment!” He called, managing to get the feathers of one wing inside his jacket, by the way they were angled, he could tell they were going to hurt later. Just another price he would have to pay to keep his secret hidden.

“Ok! Don’t take too long though, wouldn’t want your eggs to get cold.” Patton replied, leaving Roman to assume he walked down the hallway into the kitchen. Roman could not let those eggs get cold. He increased his efforts, desperately swatting at his feathers before slowing down a little and finally being able to tuck them into his pants. The symmetry would bother him later, but all that mattered now was the his eggs stayed warm.

As Roman opened his door and started towards the kitchen, he thought about what this whole hiding-his-very-cool-wings thing was for.

This whole thing started because he was anxious. Wow, now was starting to sound like Virgil! But yes, he was ...anxious. He was scared, terrified even, of what would happen if he were to reveal his extra limbs to the others.

You see, Roman hasn’t always had wings. After the split, Roman and Remus were your average, actually, scratch that, your not-so-average run of the mill twins, in that they hate each others guts most of the time, but Roman would gladly stab an army of dragon witches to death for his brother, as would Remus.

Being Thomas’ more... wholesome creativity, he was the one who took over aspects such as hopes and dreams. And Thomas, like any child, miiiiiight have had a tiny, no, huge dream of being able to fly. So imagine 8 year old Roman’s surprise when he feels sharp pains below his shoulder blades. It wasn’t agonizing just yet, but it was enough for Roman to summon his worse half.

“Is this an occult meeting? Was I finally summoned by my loyal followers? Where’s the bod-“ Remus stopped talking when he saw his brother curled up on his bed. “Oh wow, you look like someone stabbed you with a bunch of knives and didn’t stop the internal bleeding when they patched you back up,”

Roman could care less about Remus’ description of him at that point, the pain was worsening. Small spasms of pure hurt were shooting though him.

Remus, finally realizing that yes this is real and yes his brother is in pain, ran over to Roman, having to crawl up onto the bed in order to properly reach him. “What’s wrong?” Remus said, seriously, for probably the first and last time in his life.

“...h-hurts....m-my back...” Roman managed to squeeze out between pants and rapid breaths.

“Uh.. uhhhhhh,” Remus said, eloquently. He really was great at comforting others, wasn’t he.

Luckily, Remus didn’t have to think of a way to help Roman, because now his red and white leach of a brother was clinging to his midsection and getting his outfit wet with tears.

After ten very long minutes of agony, Roman felt... weird. His brain felt as if there was an army of ants crawling through it. Little ants with jackhammers and megaphones, that is. He could feel the comforter below him, but his arms were still wrapped securely around Remus. He had long pants on, so it couldn’t be his legs. And what was that weight on his back?

“Woah,” Remus whispered, astounded. “Look... y-you...”

Roman shifted slightly, trying not to move his sore body any more than he needed to, and proceeded to gasp at what he saw he saw. He was NOT expecting to see feathers, much less connected to him!

“Rem?” Roman was starting to panic. “W-why ar- is t-there...” he trailed off, more tears starting to fill his eyes. What was that? Why did it come out of him? What in the name of Cinderella’s left slipper was going on!?

After Remus somehow managed to calm down Roman (a miracle, truly), he started to admire his new additions. Somehow already feathered (he didn’t question it), they were a burnt amber color, with small ember-like sparkles dusted in places. He tried to lift one of the wings, but only managed a few inches before stopping.“...Im still confused,” he said, quietly. “Why... why do I have wings?” He asked.

“Well,” Remus started, “we could ask Logan?” He suggested. “He almost always has an answer for everything!” He said, smiling.

Roman thought about it for a minute. “No,”

Remus’ smile fell a little, “Why not?”

Roman sighed “Logan hates things that are ‘illogical’, and I think this counts,” he chuckled, lifting his wing up a little bit again.

Remus persisted, “What about-“

Roman cut him off, “I don’t think I wanna tell anybody, Rem. They’ll look at me weird,” he explained. This was a very plausible outcome in the child’s mind, that or he watched too many movies.

Remus looked like he wanted to argue, but Roman stared at him with a pleading look, and he backed down. The two brothers spent the rest of the day researching birds and testing out his wings in the imagination. He enjoyed himself.

“Earth to Roman, come in Roman,” he saw a hand waving in front of his face. His eyes followed the arm the hand was connected to and eventually landed on a sleep deprived Virgil’s face. He looked around, noticing how somehow he was sat at the bar in the kitchen, and had been blankly staring at the marble counter for about 5 minutes now.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized quickly, “Daydreaming,”

Virgil shrugged and went back to his food, allowing Roman to loose himself in his thoughts again. At least until Logan came into the room.

“Salutations,” he said, dryly. Not waiting for a response, he marched over to the fridge and pulled out a half full jar of crofters. During this, Roman remembered his eggs, which had cooled significantly, and started stuffing his face. Logan walked over to the seat on the other side of Roman, and sat down.

“Welp,” Virgil started, getting out of his seat and putting his dish in the sink, where Patton was washing them, “imma go mentally prepare for the day, see y’all in like, two hours,” he started walking out of the room. Passing Roman, he gave him a rather large pat on the back.

Right on one of his wings.

Roman’s eyes went wide. He sat strait up and dropped his fork as a weird tingling- almost painful sensation went down his spine. Everyone turned to look at him, Patton was concerned, and Logan had half his face full of jam. Virgil awkwardly pulled his hand away from Roman’s back.

“Are you ok, kiddo?” Patton questioned. Concern was evident in his eyes as he cocked his head slightly to the side.

“Everything’s fine, padre,” Roman assured the moral side, praying that no one questioned him further.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” Logan asserted. Roman was starting to internally panic.

“Seriously! I’m fine!” Roman racked his brain for an excuse, “Virgil’s hand was just really cold,”

Virgil looked at him incredulously, “You’re wearing a hoodie,”

Fuck, Roman needed to work on his lying. He stood up out of his chair, “Thanks for breakfast, Padre, but I have some... script... stuff to work on,” he started to walk toward the hallway. Unfortunately Logan got there first, blocking the doorway.

“Not so fast, Roman. We know something is troubling you, and we are your friends, are we not? It would be emotionally beneficial for you to tell us, so that we may help,” Logan reasoned.

Roman was backed into a (metaphorical, he was really still in the middle of the kitchen) corner. “I told you, I’m fine!” He repeated. All he wanted was to get to his room and do something to make his wings stop feeling so uncomfortable.

“Bullshit” Virgil declared, ignoring the small ‘language!’ from Patton, “You’re hiding something, and it’s hurting you, so give it up you limp noodle!”

The limp noodle in question was very panicked at this point, slightly shaking. He couldn’t let them know, he couldn’t. That would only mean bad things. He needs to get back to his room. He needs Remus. If they know they’ll hate him. He doesn’t want them to hate him.

Apparently he wasn’t hiding his panic as well as he thought was, because Patton walked over with a concerned frown, “Oh, Roman,” he put his arms around his child and squeezed him in a large bear hug.

Patton’s arms were right on Roman’s wings.

Roman cried out and slumped against Patton, causing them both to fall to the tile floor below. He curled up into a ball, his breathing turning ragged. It hurt, it hurt just like the first time he got his wings. Only this time he didn’t have Remus. Apparently you’re not supposed to press down on the joints connecting the wings to the rest of the body.

Surprisingly, it was Virgil who was the first to act. “We need to get him to the couch. Patton, help me get his hoodie off, Logan, go get some heat packs” he ordered, thinking that Roman must suffer from back cramps or something similar.

Logan hesitated for a moment before rushing off, leaving the others to carry a slightly limp Roman to the couch in the living room. They tried to pull off the prince like hoodie, but because of the feathers tucked in haphazardly earlier, Roman cried out whenever they tried. Patton’s eyes lit up with an idea, and he rushed off to go find some scissors, letting Virgil sit there, holding the prince’s hand, trying to be a source of comfort for him.

Virgil was abso-fuckin-lutely freaking out internally, but he had to be there for his friends. Before long, Patton come back holding a pair of sharp scissors in his hands, taking care to walk, not run, like they tell you to do in school. He carefully snipped along one of the seams on Roman’s hoodie, silently promising to sew it back together later. He started to get confused when, among the red and gold of the prince’s t-shirt, there was a brown feather.

“Is that..?” Patton trailed off. He focused back on the hoodie. Soon, he had it all the way clipped, and was about to ask Virgil to help flip Roman onto his stomach in order to have better access to his back, when he saw more of those strange feathers.

“Virgil?” He looked toward the man in question.

The purple clad man noticed the feathers, alright. But he didn’t have time to wonder why Roman was keeping bird leafs in his jacket. “Help me flip him over,” he asked Patton, who nodded and set down the scissors.

Apparently Virgil DID have time to concern himself with the feathers in his friend’s jacket, seeing as those feathers were connected to said friend.“...I guess we know what he was hiding,” Patton chuckled.

This was the moment Logan decided to burst into the room carrying a multitude of heating elements. “I acquired some heat packs, as well as the rice sacks you place in the microwa-“ he stopped short, noticing the large bird wings attached to Roman’s upper back. “...I’m not even going to ask,” he stated. And set down the electronic heat packs, before taking the others into the kitchen.

Roman was... confused, to say the least. The pain has lessened to the point where he could think again, but the others had seen his wings, hadn’t they? Why weren’t they disgusted? He-he thought-

“Roman, kiddo,” Patton said to the winged side, “how are you holding up?”

Roman started tearing up, but he refused to cry, lest Patton think he was in more pain then he was, “I-it still hurts, but not as much,” he admitted, a small smile (or grimace, that too) gracing his features.

Patton nodded and leaned down to pick up one of the heat packs, which he plugged in to a nearby outlet. “I have a heat pack, do you think I could put it at the base of your wings?” He asked.

Roman nodded, and Patton placed the device on his back. Almost instantly the pain lessened. It was still there, but Roman felt like he could breathe again. Logan walked in and wordlessly handed the now warm heating packs to Patton, before sitting on the ground in front of the couch next to him. Patton held up a heating pack, gently placing it near the bottom of the wing base.

“So...” Virgil started, awkwardly, “This is what you’ve been hiding?” Some of his panic from earlier was slipping into his voice. Roman grabbed his hand from where he laid on the couch, which to be fair, was a little awkward, but Roman wanted to comfort Patton’s dead gay son.

“Yeah,” Roman replies breathlessly, rubbing his thumb over Virgil’s knuckles. No one spoke for a while.

Logan was the one to break the silence, “How long?”

Roman replied simply, “since we were eight,” he looked down at the ground and stopped rubbing Virgil’s knuckles.

“You didn’t need to,” Roman perked up when he heard Logan speak. “What do you mean?” He questioned.

“You did not need to hide this from us,” Logan assured, “These are beautiful. I have no idea why you would want to keep them hidden” he answered honestly.

Roman looked back down at the ground, feeling Virgil giving his hand reassuring squeezes. “Because... because I was scared,” he admitted, “I was scared you would think they were weird- think IM weird,” he felt Patton’s hand on his shoulder.

“We would never,”

No more words needed to be said. Roman looked into Patton’s eyes and knew he was telling the truth. These were his friends. His family. They care about him. They won’t reject him. They aren’t going to leave him. Remus was right. Roman started to tear up a little.

“Thanks, padre,” his voice shook a little, bit one said anything about it, “can you help me sit up?”

Patton nodded, before grabbing his shoulders and sitting him up so that his wings were spread out in a way that would not hurt them further. There was some pleasant conversation between the winged side and his companions. Roman started to forget about the ache in his shoulder blades.

“I’m going to need to study your wings, Roman,” stayed Logan, “I want to see how they work in the air,”.

Roman grinned, “sure, I’d be happy to,”. He felt content sitting with his friends. Maybe he should have reveled his wings sooner.

“Roman?” Roman turned to look in the direction of the noise, “Why is it that you have wings?” asked Virgil.

Roman chuckled before answering,

”What child doesn’t wish to fly?”

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taonsil · 7 years

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mmm I locked my twt last night to say most of this but I feel better about saying it here now, though it’s prob still a bit disorganised OTL

you probably wouldn’t anyway but please don t rb~ and ok this is literally a novel so you could prob see it that the twt version was..a draft lmao

sometimes I really hate not having a more personal space to unload for fear of being called out (which I couldn’t deal with) and/or being misunderstood. or just the basic fear that people who once thought I was nice would turn on me, if I vented for one reason and it looked like another. since I lost a lot of confidence in myself I take it harder than I should if people unfollow after I’ve said something. fandom really really matters to me, it’s basically why I’m still around and the only Thing I really have. the environment has changed to be so unforgiving, quick to judge and morally absolute, it’s so overwhelming and scary at times to go against a polarised view. I can’t just tag Everything with ‘I’m mentally ill and probably not upset about what you think’, and I don’t like worrying about if I need to add some disclaimer or will need to list my whole history of nd issues and trauma every time I just wanna complain about something from a perspective different to the one currently in favour half the reason I got so exhausted over the past few days was just from constantly unpacking and dealing with my own feelings every time the issue came up, to the point that it didn’t even matter what was being said, just the subject started me off again. which of course isn’t rational behaviour, but, that’s what happens on garbage brain days. what started as two small issues I was frustrated about flared up into me eventually making myself sick obsessing over everything. I wanted to vent my own feelings on it, and I wanted to say something for all my quiet buddies out there who may feel the same and weren’t seeing anything reassuring, but instead I just got more and more worked up about it

(I’m saying this in general, not about any specific issue) I know so many nd people who are so great, but they silence themselves out of fear of how they’ll be perceived. it sucks but I do it too. it sucks that it’s hard to even be reassuring to each other out of fear of having to try and justify why you feel the illogical thing and why you’re offering comfort instead of reform. (and then it’s silly, because we’re all out here thinking we’re the only ones orz). it’s why ‘any nice/good person has this opinion’ movements generally stress me out. some are obviously unarguable true, yes. but sometimes people have complicated reasons, and they’re usually people who are already isolated and quiet/scared/guilty, just dealing with their own feelings or finding comfort in things. but because we’re predominantly an anxious, quiet bunch it’s never really allowed for or discussed fandom environment has changed, but back when it was more closed off it was full of people with issues and trauma and garbage brains who were seeking out some comfort. it still is, but in all of the easy access and the aggression and fighting, whatever the subject, no one ever thinks about that. people seem to assume everyone is just a gross bad person. people have issues that they don’t want to deal with or unpack publicly and fear makes them hide away and doubt their comforts. (this is a smaller example, but it surprised me how many people asked why I have issues with alcohol. I feel like there’s some pretty obvious reasons you could take a guess at? if you can’t even take a good guess at why someone may have an issue, that’s..kind of how we’ve ended up with such an extreme call out culture and so many people having to use their personal trauma to defend themselves).

I’ve been in fandoms similar to this one for fifteen years. I’ve gone from being the confused anxious guilty teenager to finally finding words and explanations for the things I felt, and becoming someone who can help other people lost and trying to figure this stuff out. in the years I’ve had this account, that’s ended up being what I’ve /wanted/ to do. as well as enjoying the boys and the content itself, I’ve always been in fandoms for comfort and for a safe, happy space. I know from personal experience, friends, and all of the amazing people I’ve spoken to on here over years, that there are so many people out there who are constantly feeling like the only person who feels the way they do, or are worried they’re doing something wrong, or feel guilty/upset/worried about something they find comfort in. so many of you have reached out to me when I’ve felt brave enough to talk about things, letting me know you feel similarly even on issues I thought were probably only my own. due to limitations I have bc of my mental health I’m never going to be able to be active in my own local communities, so if the only way I can reach out to and help queer and nd kids is through fic and soft meta and trying to keep a quiet little safe spot then it matters so much to me. there are so many of you who’ve been too afraid to talk, or even have anons published, or really break my heart by having to /ask/ me if it’s alright for you to feel a certain way or find comfort in certain thing. I’m old and crusty and have enough time and knowledge to want to be able to help with these things and I wish I was braver, and that I could be more outspoken about things or let people know that they’re not being fair, or just feel comfortable talking in hope of someone who needs to see it seeing it. idk where I’m going with this now;; I just, really enjoy meeting new people and making friends through fandom, but in the end fandom has changed and it’s changed why I’m here. it just used to be purely for fun and creating content, but in the end I’m here to hype taozi and try to make people like me who may have found me feel a lil better about things, and I just hate that despite having words and little communities for things now it’s still rough and hard to deal with for a lot of us, and that despite so much love and support I still struggle a lot with thinking sharing things is helpful rather than annoying and feeling worthy of trying to do anything;;

#this is Very long so #tl;dr I love all of my quiet nd/queer buddies n Im sad things are rough sometimes #and?? aa idek I just needed to unload all of this somewhere #shush jay

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panicattackhelp-blog1 · 7 years

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START HERE: A Natural Approach to Panic Attacks

New Post has been published on http://keyofprosperity.com/start-here-a-natural-approach-to-panic-attacks/

START HERE: A Natural Approach to Panic Attacks

If you’ve already read my story, you know that I suffered from serious panic attacks. I’ve learned quite a bit about them. The most important thing that I can tell you is this: You are having a battle in your mind. Your mind is the most powerful thing you have. I never believed in the “Law of Attraction” until I fought with panic attacks. In a nutshell, the Law of Attraction boils down to this; What you think is what comes your way. Once you get into the pattern of thinking…

• “I’m going to have a panic attack” • “When am I going to have another panic attack” • “What if I have another panic attack”

You’ve created a monster in your thoughts. That one-off panic attack that you had while at the grocery store is NOT the norm, but you’ve decided to make it that way. Let’s look at it the other way. When if you went to the grocery store and everybody was extremely kind to you. You would like that grocery store because people were kind to you. You probably wouldn’t have put much thought into it, you’d just naturally like the place. You were conditioned!

So, now you are in a habit of having panic attacks because you conditioned your mind to utilize panic attacks as a coping mechanism. Of course, you didn’t mean to do it, it just happened. Here’s the good news, you CAN recondition yourself. It’s not that hard to do, it just takes repetition and sticking with it. It boils down to meditation, cognitive behavioral training and mindfulness. That’s the technical terminology, however you will ultimately be changing your lifestyle in a positive way.

Let’s get started!

You can’t change the future

First you must get back to the here and now. Anxiety lives in the future, you have absolutely no control over the future. If you think you can change the future, you can’t. People have tried and all have failed. Surrender that thought. Seriously, put the future out of your mind. Even if you KNOW what’s to come, forget about it! Even if you know you can’t pay your bills, you are going to lose your house/job/wife/husband. Don’t worry about dying. Don’t worry about what you need to do tomorrow. Don’t worry about having a surgery or a trip to the dentist. Don’t worry about your big trip tomorrow. FORGET IT! Seriously, it’s not here, it’s not happening. You have absolutely no control over the time between now and the future. You can’t control what’s going to happen 30 seconds from now. Zero control. I’m saying this over and over to really drive the point. This was my biggest struggle. Jesus said, “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

Focus on now

To start focusing on now, you can do some mental exercises. The purpose of these exercise is to stop your wandering mind. These exercises will bring you peace of mind and a tranquil feeling. When you first start doing them, you won’t notice much but as time goes on you’ll really start to get the effects of the exercises.

Breath Counting

Take a breath in. Let your breath out. As you exhale, mentally begin counting. As you breathe out the second time, increase a number.

• Breathe in • Breathe out (mentally say 1) • Breathe in • Breath out (mentally say 2)

The goal is to get to 25. If you lose track of your counting, start over as this means that you’ve allowed your mind to wander. Make sure you are breathing slowly while you do this. As you get better, increase you counting. I often would go for a small walk and count to 300. It really helped with my overall mental health.

Dead Arm

This one is kind of weird but it works well. Sit down comfortably. Try to remain still. Pick an arm, I always picked my right. Imagine that you can’t move it. You aren’t allowed to move your arm. All you can think about is not moving your arm and how it no longer moves. The thing about this one is that your arm feels strange, proving that your thoughts are POWERFUL! This exercise causes your mind to focus on what’s going on with your arm and away from racing thoughts. It’s a simple exercise to do and you can do it anywhere, even while you are talking to somebody.

Looking at Stuff

This exercise almost sounds stupid, but I did it all the time. Wherever you are, go for a walk and look closely at everything you see. Really take it in. Is there a crack in the floor? Notice the crack, the size, really take it in. Look at the walls, the colors, the imperfections. Take in the smells that you can smell. Is it warm or cold? Is there a breeze? Touch objects around you. What do they feel like? Are they sharp? Are they dull? Are they cold? Eat or drink something. Really focus on the smell, taste, texture. Is there a bird outside? Watch it. What is it doing? Wonder why it’s doing what it’s doing? Really focus on what’s going on around you. Just spend 5 or 10 minutes going through this exercise. It’s amazing how healing it is to the anxious mind.

Walk

I pace. Constantly. I don’t enjoy sitting still for long periods of time. My background is in computer science. I do computer stuff, but I’ll tell you this…I never sit for any period of time. I bought one of those watches that tracks your steps. I like to get in around 8-12k steps per day. It feels like an accomplishment. It’s tangible and I did it. Moving around is great for your lymphatic system, your heart, your mind, your digestion…literally everything. If you can’t go outside, just walk around your home, it doesn’t have to be some serious exercise thing. The goal is to try to move around.

Plant Something

Two things you really need to help with panic attacks; accomplishment(s) and living in the present. Planting something does both. Get a solo cup or something that you can plant some seeds in. Put some water on them and put them in the window. This year, I planted around 100 maple seeds (about 40 of them lived). It gave me something to do, something to accomplish, I made the earth a little bit better, I could share it with other…It just made me happy and brought me some joy. I got my seeds from my walks. One day I saw a bunch of seeds and thought “I’m going to plant these”. It really did something for my overall stress. It requires almost no time and is just something to do that will make you happy.

Human Contact

Hug somebody. Hold their hand. That physical connection is huge. It doesn’t matter if it’s a kid/mom/wife/husband/boyfriend/girlfriend/friend…just touch somebody. That touching will give you something that you didn’t realize that you needed. It’s almost a warming feeling. Try to apply the items from “Look at Stuff”. Humans thrive on interaction with other humans. A baby will die if nobody touches it. We need to touch people and interact.

Overcoming Anxiety Triggers

While the above exercises will help you deal with the here and now in a safe environment, you still have triggers. I fought my triggers through brute force, on my “brave” days. I’d test the waters, so to speak. My big anxiety was driving in the car alone. It scared me…BAD. I live in a neighborhood, where I was able to just drive the neighborhood…which gave me anxiety. However, I knew that getting home would only take about 1 minute, even from the most distance part of the neighborhood. I could even just pull my car over and leave it there and walking home if I had to. But slowly, these car rides through the neighborhood became car rides up the road. And eventually I made my way through it.

The biggest thing that I learned about my driving anxiety (and other odd anxieties that I had) was that I feared the unknown. I worried about things that may or may not happen. I worried about things that would never happen. I just plain worried to the point that I conditioned my mind to avoid the task altogether. Writing things down helped. I wrote down the craziness that I was thinking. I looked at it with a clear mind. And thought through my borderline insane fears. Logic helps but panic attacks are illogical. You need to rise above the anxious thinking and not give in to fear.

I hate fear. It’s not real, it stems from worrying. Less intelligent people aren’t fearful, they are ignorantly blissful. Knowledge is great, but not when it ruins your peace. Reading about side-effects of medicines, odd cancers, rare heart problems are going to ruin your wellbeing. I had to stop reading about my symptoms online. I was always having a stroke, heart attack or cancer. Over and over again, I’d have myself all upset. I was dying of one of the big three. I’d even mourn. Mourning my own death, the people I was leaving. How would they get on. They’d be sad without me. What would happen to me? Would it be instantly that I’d die or would it really go on for hours. Would I know I was dying? YIKES! Again, STOP THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE! It’s the most unproductive thing you can do. You want joy, not worry.

My Best Advice on Panic Attacks

PUT DOWN THE CELL PHONE! GET OFF THE COMPUTER! GO OUTSIDE! I sound like your mom? Don’t mentally stimulate your brain more than you already have. In your downtime, don’t use your phone. It’s doing you NO good. Facebook can wait. You’ll get to click like on your friend’s picture of his dinner another day. Go on a technology diet. If you start to feel bored, go with it. Take on the boredom. It’s really, really good for you to get bored. Sit there and stare at the wall for a little bit. You don’t have to always be doing something. Remember your grandparents and how they would just sit there. No TV on, nothing. They’d just sit there in silence. Peaceful and content. They knew something you didn’t. You can be bored. Sit outside. Watch nature. It’s reality, you cell phone isn’t reality.

Pray

Don’t ask God to take away your panic attacks and then get mad at him when they don’t go away. It just might be your cross to bear for a period of time. Pray to God and thank him for what he’s given you. Tell him that you are thankful to be here, alive, healthy. Thank him for the people that are in your life that love you. Thank him for the food that you have, that you don’t go hungry. Thank him for your home. Over and over, thank him. You have a lot to be thankful for. Tell God, he wants to hear it from you.

Thank People

Thank the people in your life for being there. Tell them they are important to you. Do something thoughtful for them. Put them first. Don’t let your anxiety stop you from being a nice person. Put others before yourself. Be a servant to others. Your humility will help you with anxiety. At one point I had a proud mind, I saw myself as an elitist. Anxiety fixed that for me, you can’t be proud and have panic attacks. Do what you can do. Try to push your comfort zone for others. We’re social creatures. You’ll be healing your mind and soul when you put others first.

Take it easy. Move slower. Breathe slower. Life isn’t meant to go in high-speed. Remove yourself from things that speed it up, or use those things in moderation (I’m talking about phones/iPads/TV/Video Games). If weeks are going by really fast, you need to slow down life. You can do it. We all have free-time. Use it wisely. I hope that you got something out of this post. I’m speaking from my heart and telling you what’s worked for me and what I’ve been through. Your anxiety will pass, time is the great healer.

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techvideosandmakemoneyonline · 6 years

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Stop Panic Attacks & Anxiety In 60 Second

Anxiety Attack Symptoms-Panic Attack

If you are having real trouble beating your cravings, or realize that you can’t cease even though you attempt with conclusion, you need to consider getting expert aid. Whenever you have anxiety constantly, it can be so difficult to find anything done. Intrusive and undesirable thoughts can be very distressing for everybody, especially once you have just experienced your first one. The anxiety episodes are so upsetting, that many women and men strive, no matter the results, to avert a repeat performance. If you are suffering from panic or anxiety attacks it may be time for you to research your diet plan. What’s more, some women and men who suffer with panic disorders may need treatment for a few other problems. Worrying increases anxiety which makes them worse. Additionally one can’t assume it is anxiety in some instances there may be an underlying physical cause in the event the normal self-help does not do the job. The sole means to find out if you’ve got a bipolar disorder is by visiting a psychologist. GAD consists of illogical causes and could revolve around health issues, financial affairs, children responsibilities and far more overall events.

What’s Really Happening with Panic Attack Additionally, you must take into consideration how much the symptoms affect your everyday functioning. The above mentioned symptoms could come with a sensitivity to sound and light. It’s critical to be certain that your symptoms are in fact as a consequence of overeating and not a few other medical illness. Occasionally there aren’t any symptoms at all. There are numerous remedies available based on the type and severity of an issue. It may be valuable in instances where the receptor sites are hypersensitive. Stress can be detrimental to healthy bodily operation and once the disturbance is caused because of the existence of a mental disorder, bodily functions don’t work correctly which can lead to a perpetual cycle of maladaptive brain a body interactions. Pregnancy has been quite good for me as it’s one of the hardest things you can do whenever you have emetophobia. Therapy might also be somewhat helpful. Anxiety relief expects that you stop thinking about harmful thoughts, so you try to turn off your self-awareness mechanisms. Your capacity to speak through a seizure might be severely impaired. Much like nearly all phobias, it may typically be traced back to a particular occasion, normally a traumatic experience in a young age. There are a couple of essential steps which you might take to reduce attacks. . .And Here is Why Anxiety Attack for Dummies You will realize a person experiencing bipolar illness have continuous mood swings. My friend also suggests some hints which may relieve the signs and stop the attacks. When a panic attack strikes, the person may undergo lasting harmful outcomes. The person who has heliophobia is probably a massive fan of tanning beds and sprays! Whenever your body and mind doesn’t get enough deep sleep you might begin to feel stressed or stressed. Yes, there’s light at the conclusion of the tunnel as it has to do with anxiety and panic. Just be certain the extender you receive works for the airline which you are flying. While winter time could be especially problematic for costochondritis victims, flare ups can also happen in summer time. Anxiety is a terrible emotion that may be crippling to take care of. It is complex and everyone is different. It’s something that you can live with. It sometimes causes a range of physical ailments, which might be quite scary. Speaking about your problems with an expert is among the best things which you could do to help yourself. Just a little difficulty can get serious if it’s turned inward and permitted to fester. The principal problem is their capacity to deal with the event with truth. A specific problem, that is fairly common, is paruresis. At some point, you could find that person to wait about for you at your destination. A person does not have to undergo a traumatic event to be able to think of a panic. On subsequent trips, you need to find that safe person to sit farther away from you every moment. You’re probably going to calm down, especially if you’re a creature individual. Thus, let us jump to the very first technique! Because melancholy with Asperger’s is not the exact same as the most common mental wellness melancholy, the use of typical drugs do not get the job done. Reducing stress can be done by identifying what you’re in reality worrying about! Symptoms frequently impair the capability to form meaningful relationships with others and impair a person’s capacity to function normally at the workforce too. In order to come up with an effective cure for bipolar disorder, it’s very important that it ought to be detected early on. The person with Asperger’s depression doesn’t have that chemical imbalance, they have something different. The term panic attack” isn’t too well understood by the majority of lay people and many in the healthcare community. An individual shouldn’t be left alone through an assault, but once it is past, they’ll occasionally need to work through the lies they believe independently. Whatever triggered the attack is not the root problem. The spontaneous attack isn’t associated with and is not induced by any particular circumstance or place. For instance, it’s completely natural for a man or woman to become scared of falling. Now first off, if you’re the guy or woman witnessing someone hyperventilate, attempt to reassure and comfort the individual. For most dogs it will be quite obvious, it is going be the individual or thing that the puppy is directing his behaviour towards, or seeking to prevent If you’re suffering from anxiety or panic attacks it could be time to research your diet. What’s more, some women and men who suffer with panic disorders may need treatment for some other issues. Worrying increases anxiety that makes them worse. Also one can not assume it is anxiety in certain cases there can be an underlying physical cause in the event the normal self-help doesn’t do the job. Although, in the start, writing down ‘activates’ helped me identify the root of my anxiety so I was able to stop certain causes. Consequently, if you are experiencing any physiological symptoms due to anxiety disorder, my advice is to visit a doctor. More often than not, the exact cause is unknown. There are a couple instances that bipolar disorder sufferers have arrived at the point of trying to commit suicide There’s a great explanation HERE. Recently, it seems as if only the very simple act of purchasing or preparing food is sufficient to throw anyone into a panic attack. If you believe that you aren’t OK and particularly in the event that you’ve had childhood troubles, I’m confident you will see the notion described very intriguing and beneficial. There’s less stress and no one should take a look in a trip to the emergency area. The superior physical shape you are in, the greater control you’ve got over your thoughts and emotions. My brain began to hurt as bad ideas started to claw at every part of the skull. The brain is what controls everything that you do in your daily life. Speaking about your problems with a professional is one of the best things which you could do to help yourself. Just a tiny difficulty can get severe if it’s turned inward and allowed to fester. The main problem is their capability to take care of the event with truth. A specific problem, that is rather common, is paruresis. Doctors have drugs that will force you to truly feel much much better. For the Asperger’s patient, there are not any medications, there’s no therapy. Remedy for Blastocystis hominis can be quite challenging. What is Really Happening with Panic Attack. Pregnancy has been quite good for me as it is among the hardest things you can do if you have emetophobia. Therapy might also be somewhat helpful. Anxiety relief expects that you stop considering harmful ideas, so you attempt to switch off your self-awareness mechanisms. Whenever your body and mind does not get enough deep sleep then you may begin to feel anxious or tense. Yes, there’s light at the ending of the tunnel as it’s to do with anxiety and panic. Just be sure the extender you get works for the airline that you’re flying. While winter time can be particularly problematic for costochondritis sufferers, flare ups can also occur in summer time. The attacks are surprising and often do not appear to be due to anything yet the indicators are really debilitating. If you’ve found someone to help you through your reactive hypoglycemia attack, you need to sit down and allow them to take throughout the next measure. It is simple to panic if you’re having a reactive hypoglycemia attack, particularly if you currently have stress difficulties. Don’t panic and you are likely to get through your reactive hypoglycemia attack a lot easier. |The sole means to find out if you have obtained a bipolar illness is by simply visiting a psychiatrist. GAD includes illogical causes and may revolve around health issues, financial events, kids responsibilities and a lot more general occasions. Many studies indicate that visualisation can find an impact in our bodies, and athletes frequently utilize it like a tool to increase functionality. Referring to a lot of theoretical viewpoints when browsing for answers about psychological illness has its apparent benefits. There are children that are currently being taken to social workers and psychologists to chat about their anxieties or their melancholy to learn coping strategies. When it is merely prior to giving a massive examination, a job interview or planning to speak to a own date to the very first time, then breathe deeply. Fear proved to be a normal ground. Social stress is dependent upon the perceptions of the mind. Social phobia can be generalized and extend to a large selection of social situations or it might be specific. Bipolar disorder can not be treated. Your capability to talk during a seizure could be severely impaired. As with nearly all phobias, it may normally be traced back to a particular event, typically a traumatic experience at a young age. There are a couple of basic steps that you might take to reduce attacks. Sooner or later, you could discover that individual to wait about for you in your destination. A person doesn’t need to undergo a traumatic event in order to think of a fear. On subsequent trips, you should find that safe individual to sit down farther away from you every moment. You’re likely going to calm down, especially if you’re a creature individual. Panic Attack Described Dependant upon just how fearful you are feeling, your goal must be to try a couple of stops, increasing because you truly feel capable with time. There are therapists around who’ll work with you online payment. If you opt not to get medical support, you need to reevaluate your illness regularly, to be certain that you’re not putting yourself at all. Thus, you should search for psychiatric assistance without delay. Speaking about your issues with an expert is one of the best things that you can do to help yourself. Just a little problem can get severe if it has turned inward and permitted to fester. The principal problem is their capacity to deal with the event with fact. A particular problem, that’s rather common, is paruresis. Even though, in the beginning, writing down ‘triggers’ helped me identify the root of my anxiety, and so I managed to stop certain causes. Therefore, if you are afflicted with any physiological symptoms because of panic disorder, my advice would be to visit a physician. In most instances, the exact cause is unknown. There are a couple cases that bipolar disorder victims have arrived at the stage of trying to commit suicide. Doctors have drugs that will force you to truly feel better. For the Asperger’s patient, there aren’t any medications, there’s not any treatment. Treatment for Blastocystis hominis can be quite challenging. You will realize a person experiencing bipolar illness have constant mood swings. My buddy also suggests some hints which may alleviate the signs and stop the attacks. If a panic attack strikes, the individual may experience lasting harmful outcomes. The person that has heliophobia is most likely a massive fan of tanning beds and sprays! If you’re having real trouble beating your cravings, or understand that you can’t cease even though you try with conclusion, you have to consider getting specialist assistance. Whenever you have anxiety constantly, it may be so tough to find anything done. Intrusive and unwanted thoughts can be very distressing for everybody, particularly once you have just experienced your initial one. The anxiety episodes are so upsetting, that many women and men strive, no matter the consequences, to avert a repeat performance. Pregnancy has been quite good for me as it is one of the hardest things you can do if you have emetophobia. Therapy might also be rather beneficial. Stress relief expects that you quit thinking about harmful thoughts, which means you try to turn off your self-awareness mechanisms. For instance, it is perfectly normal for a man or woman to be scared of falling. Now first off, if you are the man or woman seeing someone hyperventilate, attempt to reassure and comfort the individual. For many dogs it is going to be quite obvious, it is going be the individual or object that the puppy is directing his behaviour towards, or wanting to prevent Exercise is quite commonly promoted as efficacious method to lower the seriousness of seasoned withdrawal symptoms and as well as a means to keep yourself busy enough to reduce back the cravings to use. A few of these signs of social phobia might cause actual social isolation. It is not difficult to be dismissive about somebody else’s anxiety as soon as the distress is inner. Frequently depression is a result of the overwhelming fear and anxiety attacks . .And Here’s Why |}

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