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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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the marriage contract

chapter one: [begin this journey.]

— Just because your soulmate is Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t mean that he’s the one meant for you; in fact, he’s your worst enemy. With trouble brewing across the way, and with no one able to complete this job except you and Bakugou, there’s nothing you can do except go along with the mission. But wait, what?! You’re supposed to be married?!

pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x pro hero fem!reader

chapter warnings: cursing

word count: 4,093

a/n: in this enemies to lovers story, only you get to decide whether you remain enemies, or if you succeed in becoming lovers. the choice to make is at the end of the story, good luck :D also, background on your quirk (sorry, I had to give you a quirk in order for this to work the way i see fit.) I won’t lie, im really nervous about all this... hopefully this is fun and won’t come and bite me in the ass.

Quirk: Water Sprout - using water from your body, you are able to extract and then use the water (that comes from your body or has come in direct contact with your fingertips) freely. Drawbacks include constant dehydration, dizziness, headaches.

bolded choice is the answer. ~ {masterlist}

[Begin this journey.] [Turn back now.]

relationship status: enemies.

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

Cosmic and gods, there was nothing in this world that proved these existed.

Nothing.

Nothing in this world could show the nonbeliever that there was an outside force in the world that made people suspect that there were otherworldly ties. Not the appearance of quirks, which was proven to be a genetic mutation as part of humans' evolution, and even the sudden and ancient appearance of The Contract did anything to solidify this - well, at least to some.

Quirks were easy to understand.

Powers, drawbacks, uniqueness.

Oh, it was something that was still so new to the world that people enjoyed it so, but for The Contract, oh how that was different.

The Contract was what was the name of the world wide know phenomenon more known merely as soulmates. Everyone had a fated one, and you would know who they were because every once in a while, a simple choice would appear before you.

A this or that situation.

You would pick one of the options, and somewhere out in the world, there was a person who, despite their own free will, would succumb to your choice. It was as simple as choosing to make someone double knot or single knot their shoes, or sometimes as hard as pulling the plug on a stranger, you had no idea existed. But it had been generations since it had first appeared, and people had grown to accept the inevitable. Which, in turn, brought out new problems.

Soulmates, while fundamentally and theoretically excellent and good, seemed to shock people by the work that needed to be put into them to succeed. Two souls that were perfect for each other didn’t guarantee two people were perfect for one another. The blind, false, true love these people bragged and teetered on was ridiculous and often led to horrible breaks within soulmate bonds. People did not understand that soulmates - just as any other relationship - needed time to fester and grow. It wasn’t an over the counter remedy, it was two people trying to find similarities other than the gods and the cosmics wanting this.

It was rather rough, to say the least.

Most people didn’t mind the growth, waiting for their soulmate to become the person meant for them. Others, well, you were the perfect example of it.

Your entire life, you had thought your soulmate was an asshole, well, scratch that, he IS an asshole. Every chance he got, he would always pick the worst of the two options. He chose for you to reject pursuers in your school days, to trip your siblings, to yell at your parents when you were upset. He picked for you to get up early in middle school and train, to study for tests right when you were about to go out with friends. He was obviously picking the worst things for you (not that you were any better), and so by the bitter age of fifteen when you were put into Shiketsu High School, you were glad to pledge to be someone who wouldn’t accept the soulmate shit for anything.

If he was your soulmate, so be it, but he would never be your lover.

Things in high school and your last year of middle school went reasonably well, the choices the two of you had to make were simple enough. The worst one you remember seeing late one night at the beginning of summer break during your last year of middle school, two options illuminating before you.

[Accept his offer.] [Decline his offer.]

There was no context for your choice.

But there had been a pit in your stomach, something telling you to chose the bottom one, and you did. Nothing consequential came from that, and you forgot about it with time.

High school went on with usual choices; both of you continue to choose the lesser of two options from what you could tell. The worst thing was rejecting your senior who had asked you out on a date (something he had told you to keep a secret from the school officials), and you had really wanted to go on a date with him… but nonetheless, you survived. Fresh out of high school with your official Hero License under your belt, you had been accepted into Rising Agency, a very new agency founded by a class older than you over at Yuuei - Class 1-A.

The prominent faces being hero Deku, Ground Zero, and Shouto.

Somehow you had passed the interview selection and had been accepted, and your first day went horribly. On account of your quirk, Water Sprout, you had woken up with a mouth drier than a desert, and like you always did, you grabbed your liter bottle and went to chug.

Only two options popped before your eyes the moment you moved the water to your parched mouth.

[Spill the water.] [Safely drink the water.]

You had tried your hardest to get your lip to the opening, but you knew better. During the time The Contract appeared, time literally froze. Your soulmate was given up to fifteen seconds to choose the answer before the first choice was automatically selected. You had tried to suppress the scream at the back of your throat when the cold, cold water came splashing down on your chest. Spraying all over your bed.

The scream you made when you were soaked to the bone no doubt made your soulmate smile wherever he was.

So you were glad when his options appeared before you a few minutes later.

[Break the sink faucet.] [Turn off the water.]

With a sniff, you held no remorse when your hand jammed out and hit the option he deserved.

You had arrived at the agency's front door within the next hour, your most formal business clothes were worn fresh and sharp. Your hand held your case with your hero costume and nerves at your stomach. This was it, you had thought, your hands sweating profusely, your mouth so dry you felt faint, and with a quick chug of your water, you entered the facility.

The agency smelled like Pine-Sol and sweets, and you found the front desk immediately but were off-put by a man who was already there. His back hunched over, arms crossed, and placed onto the counter as he seemed to be arguing with the receptionist.

Nearer and nearer you drew, and the more you began to recognize just who the man was: Ground Zero.

Calm down, calm down, calm down.

Your heart hammered viciously in your chest as you were finally in earshot of the conversation - it seemed that he was fighting over his new time slots for his routine patrols. But you were no stranger to his… vivacious temperament, and instead of addressing him first, you figured it was in the best interest to simply ask the receptionist what your first steps should be.

But as you opened up your mouth, your internal monologue of what to say blaring on repeat so that you wouldn’t mess up, the world froze, and you panicked.

[Ace the introduction.] [Fumble the introduction.]

The world was still for five seconds, but never did you ever once experience someone moving within The Contract. So, when Ground Zero’s hand moved and punched in an option that was mirrored right in front of your mouth, you immediately felt the blood in your cheeks from seeing him recoil back to your heart faster than you could blink.

“Hi, I’m Hero, and I’m new? I’m looking for the y/l/n room?”

Horror struck through you immediately at the realization.

Ground Zero was yours...?

He was your…?!

You saw red.

“Hah? What kind of introduction was -- WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Your fist throbbed pathetically still curled near his face, and Ground Zero’s blazing, burning red gaze matched the blood pouring from his busted nose as you panted like a corned animal.

“YOU MADE ME WET MY BED, ASSHOLE!”

So went your first interaction with your soulmate.

Your fist connecting and shattering his nose. Three of his friends holding him back, and three trying to escort you away quickly. It was indeed one for the books.

But that was three years ago, and at the age of twenty-one, you could still not handle the sight, or the presence of your soulmate, and vice versa. The both of you were like oil and water, conflicting and fighting whenever left together for too long, unable to get along. He was not meant for you, and you were not meant for him - it was evident like night and day.

Right decisions were made, however, once knowing who the other one was. The both of you taking track of each other’s patrol schedules to make sure good choices were made at that time, just in case, but as soon as the other was off, payback was a bitch. The entire agency had learned that both of you were soulmates the same day the both of you found out, and there were actual looks of sorrow given to you from his friends?!

Not to mention that his nickname for you was bedwetter now, something that both infuriated and embarrassed you to this day.

Both of you were separated at all times, never once having to work together, that is, until today. A time where we find ourselves back in the beginning.

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

A part of you wanted to roll your eyes at Bakugou’s quip, but in all consideration, you agreed with him ultimately.

“Unfortunately, I’m not,” Yaoyorozu sighed, her mouth pinched and her hands passing both you and Bakugou a small stack of documents for you to read over. You took your file after placing your water bottle down and opened it immediately as Yaoyorozu continued to speak. “Kane, Bryan is an American man who has recently been on Japan’s watchlist. He is highly dangerous, evasive, and a hard man to pin anything on… all we know is that innocent people are going missing when they enter his land, and undercover heroes end up in the sea with no memories, or worse, dead.”

That took you by surprise, and your stomach twisted at that thought.

Heroes have turned up dead?

“I don’t doubt the seriousness that this Kane man brings, but no offense, Creati, why does it have to be a mission for Ground Zero and I?” you asked, your eyes flittering from the blurred photo of the man on your page onto the slightly frowning commandeer of this agency. “We aren’t exactly… a good fighting duo? If what I think you’re asking is correct, why not send in Deku and Ground Zero? They have the best duo track record, I’m sure that they’ll be able to apprehend this man better and faster than we can.”

Yaoyorozu sighed, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip while her fingers drummed on the table, obviously not comfortable telling the full explanation.

“Well, to be honest, he stays on a remote island nearby, and it’s very exclusive.”

You owlishly blinked at Yaoyorozu, who straightened in her chair, a new air of confidence flowing through her that made you almost ask if a choice had been made for her.

“Kane owns a private island that is known for its resort, and to enter the resort, there must be two truths to this,” her eyes were holding yours for a moment, they were deep, so dark that for a second you felt fear tickle at the back of your spine before she turned her attention over to Bakugou. “One: those who may enter must be in a romantic relationship.”

What?

“Two: they must be soulmates.”

“WHAT?!”

You blinked, your head snapping over at Bakugou, who had yelled the same words as you did, obviously not impressed with what they were now enforcing. Oh god, this was not what you were thinking at all!

“Why the hell does it have to check off those two boxes? I’m not going somewhere obviously dangerous and in the middle of nowhere with bed wetter!” Bakugou growled, his feet planted onto the floor as he had his upper lip pulled into a sour face of sorts. “I’ll do it with literally anyone else, ponytail!”

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option,” she sighed, her hand pushing through her bangs with a sad shake of her head. She looked tired, and her exhaustive eyes rose to meet yours, and his, and her voice was weak and oh so pleading. “There is some way they can tell if you’re soulmates, and those we sent out who weren’t already soulmates never made it in. You two are quite literally our only option, without the two of you, we don’t stand a chance.”

“So, can we act as estranged lovers then?” you questioned, your stomach twisting in the thought of having to display any sort of romantic displays with the man sitting right next to you. “We can be a couple trying to work on our relationship?”

Yayorozu gulped.

“W-We actually made profiles for the two of you…”

“And?” came Bakugou’s near whisper.

“Y-You’ll be acting as a, well, a newly married couple. This is your honeymoon… I know you two don’t have a good history, and your on field teamwork has never been tried, but I’m pleading to you two now, please consider. You have until tomorrow to tell me if you accept.”

If there had been a choice that appeared for Bakugou to make you slam your head through the desk, you would have thanked him for choosing it.

[Carry all the bags] [Take only his bags.]

“Thank you!” you chirped with no pity for the situation you had just placed him in, the glint of a sneer flashing across Bakugou’s face was fierce as he took the bags of luggage the two of you had been given from your agency. This was it, it was starting.

The weight of what was to come of this was now starting to hit heavily, the importance of the diamond ring on your finger - a symbol of the fake marriage contract between you and Bakugou felt like a ton. There was no hiding the discomfort the both of you held when you had to act in love, your hand itching to leave his clammy, abnormally warm hands, and you never realized how he mumbled under his breath until you were forced to sit next to him on the private plane. But as you were given two days to prepare for this mission, it didn’t hit you what was happening until you unloaded from the plane.

From the initial observation of the island, you immediately recognized just why the owner was so elusive and able to keep his agenda hidden. The island's natural barriers were bright as day, the rocky mountains seemed entirely inhabitable, and the entire resort was located where the mountains met the beach. Tropics and natural waterholes existed in those parts before slowly blending into the white sand beaches with water so blue and clean that you genuinely wished you would be having a good time.

You hated having to remind yourself that you were here for the sake of a mission and not to simply lay out, well, it was easy to forget that until Bakugou was beside you, and you fought the instinctive reaction to scowl at him. In fact, with your gaze falling onto the blond-haired hero, you didn’t notice the small woman appearing from nowhere, a bright smile on her face and white linen clothes on

“Welcome to Hibani Island!” she chirped, her eyes closing in well-practiced greetings, she spoke with an accent, and with her appearance, you assumed she was American. “My name is Jane, and I’m here to welcome you to our wonderful island! May I please have your names and the choice you had upon arrival?”

Your greeting smile disappeared at that point, your head tilting in confusion, “I’m sorry, our choice?”

“Mhm!” Jane nodded enthusiastically, the same bright smile plastered on her face. “Our wonderful island works in mysterious ways! As you both know, our beautiful resort is only for those who are soulmates; after all, we would never wish to poison her beautiful nature with impure love! Upon entry, with the help of the island, I am able to procure a choice for you and your soulmate to make! Since I posed the question to you,” her glazed over eyes focused on you, “I would appreciate it if your partner answered!”

There was a silence, and it couldn’t have lasted any more than a few seconds in all reality. But in that still, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand straight up, there was obviously something entirely wrong here.

“A choice about who would carry the luggage in,” Bakugou calmly, smoothly answered, his voice somehow not picking up on any suspicion. “Be -- Y/n chose that I would carry them all.”

The way your name passed his lips made your spine stiffen, it felt weird, unnatural, fake.

Well, this entire thing is fake, you reminded yourself, grateful that Jane was at the moment impressed by Bakugou’s correct statement.

“Well, wonderful! I’m so glad that our island can greet two beautiful soulmates today! Your names? So that I may check you both in?”

“Nakamura Katsuki and Y/n.”

“Amazing! Let’s get you to the main lobby, and they’ll set you two love birds up!”

Thankfully, Jane was a woman who didn’t mind talking to herself the entire way over to the resort’s main lobby, she spoke wonders of how the hot springs were especially “magically” at night, and promised that a trip during that time would lead to “the best of fantasies.” The resort itself was oddly busy. Couples were everywhere, each in their own world, yet all orbiting around one another, never once mixing.

The white sundress you wore suddenly felt too simple, especially with the stupid designer wear most people were wearing.

Jane escorted you to the front desk, and with one last overenthusiastic smile, she disappeared.

“Check us in, Joo Dee just about made me fucking lose it,” Bakugou grumbled, his patience hanging on a much thinner thread than yours apparently.

“Glad to know it takes only one super smiley person to ruin your day,” you couldn’t help but snip, the rolling of your eyes only stopped when the front desk clerk began to walk over, a bright smile on his face, and his hand waving in greeting.

You opened your mouth, ready to begin talking when his welcome rang clearly in your ears, but just as it happened all those years ago, the world froze.

[Ace the introduction.] [Fumble the introduction.]

The prideful, arrogant smirk on his face seemed to burn into your back as he stared from behind you.

“Hi, I would like it.”

Your voice gave out, and with burning cheeks, you and the front desk clerk stared at each other, the awkward silence biting into your throat. The clerks’ smile, breaking slightly in his second-hand embarrassment and wonder as to why you stopped talking, but despite wanting to continue speaking your voice refused to work again.

Bakugou Katsuki was an asshole.

“Are you here to check in?” he asked, his eyes searching yours in hopes that was what you were here for.

With a burning face, you nodded, and the check-in proceeded.

The clerk, who introduced himself as Ryan Locke, quickly checked you and Bakugou into your rooms. He pulled out a simple paper map and circled the small house - yes, small house - that the two of you would be residing in. Just as the package the two of you purchased, both of you would be here in two months, and the entire time everything would be included. Name it, and it would be brought to the room, well, house. You nodded, trying to take everything he was throwing at you in, not at all relying on Bakugou, who was standing by the window staring at the other guests with a frown on his face.

PDA was not something either one of you were comfortable with.

“Well, that’s it from me! Should you need any assistance, please do not hesitate to call!” Ryan smiles, the crinkles by his eyes creasing, even more, washing you over with ease despite the tension in your body. You heard Bakugou approach the two of you, and with him beside you, Ryan seemed to remember something as he rubbed the back of his neck. “And, there is a couples event tonight, should you and your husband want to join! Most couples do, and by the look of it, it may help re-spark things?”

A sour rancid taste crawled at the back of your throat as you awkwardly laughed, your fronts were weaker then you thought, and shook your head, “Oh no! That’s no issue! We’re actually here on our honeymoon,” your fingers pressed to your chest, your eyes trailing to where Bakugou was standing in hopes that it somehow looked romantic. Pet names were a thing, right? But what to call him? “Uh, K-Kacchan is actually super shy with PDA!”

You froze when the only nickname you’ve ever heard used toward Bakugou fumble clumsily from your tongue.

Kacchan?!

KACCHAN?!

WERE YOU SUDDENLY DEKU?!

“Oh! Yes, I understand now!” Ryan laughed, waving off his mistake, the apples of his cheeks dusting in what you could only pray to be embarrassment. “Well, if you want to help your Kacchan here express his love for you without care of the world, tonight’s session is the place to be!”

He turned and walked away with a final smile, most likely retreating to the ringing phone in the back room.

“I swear to god, do not ever call me that shitty nickname ever again, or else I’ll explode your ass,” Bakugou hissed, his hand grabbing you by the elbow as he had you in close.

“I’ll call you whatever I damn please!” you hissed back, ripping your elbow out of his hold.

You watched as his upper lip twitched, and he moved to go grab your luggage, something The Contract still held over him. You stood with the papers that Ryan had given to you, the stack of itineraries and options of what the both of you two could do while at your stay taking far more room in your arm then you thought was acceptable. Your concentration on your fake husband - as you kept vehemently reminding yourself - broke when the door opened and in walked a woman who was alone, and headphones on her ears. You offered her a smile when eye contact was made but did nothing more.

Bakugou leaned down, his hands lifting up the luggage, most definitely annoyed with rolling the large suitcases. But with the woman’s course and the way that Bakugou’s back was towards her, having not noticed her entry at all, you could see that they were going to collide. Essential items were in that suitcase, and you had no idea if they could break if Bakugou managed to drop them after crashing with her. But again, it would be payback for the embarrassing first encounter with Ryan!

But before you could make up your mind on what to do, the world froze.

[Crash into her.] [Avoid her.]

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(make sure to vote for the choice to be chosen!) poll closes august 30 8am pst

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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wellimaginethat · 4 years

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Control: Part One

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x (female) Reader

Word Count: 1459

Author’s Note: So this request kinda hit home because I battled an eating disorder my entire teenage life and the first two years of my twenties, and still has ‘relapses’ of unhealthy behavior every once in a while, so this is very much based on my own personal experiences but also some research that I’ve done. The request also gave me the option of writing it for either Connor Rhodes or Crockett Marcel, and I had a hard time choosing between the two because I love them both, so I flipped a coin. I might end up writing a version for Crockett if anyone wants me to

Trigger Warning(s): READER HAS AN EATING DISORDER PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU!!!

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Connor finds out that his girlfriend has an eating disorder and tries to talk to her about it, but she won’t let him.

Y/N = Your Name

I AM AWARE THIS MIGHT NOT BE CORRECT FOR EVERYONE BUT THIS IS BASED OFF OF MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCE

You couldn’t remember when it started or how. What had been the tipping point.

All you know is that it made you feel in control, it made you feel good when you could keep your weight level or even drop some weight. However, no matter what the scale told you, every time you looked in the mirror you just didn’t see yourself as being thin enough.

And it didn’t matter what the people around you told you. You kept doing what you were doing.

You had the signs, but you hid them and played them off. You were so good at hiding this by now that no one noticed, not even your boyfriend.

At least he hadn’t, yet.

He was mad at himself for not noticing the signs. It seemed so obvious after it had been pointed out to him, and after it was finally pointed out, it felt like it had been screaming at him the entire time. He was a doctor for crying out loud, he should have noticed.

How did he not notice the times you would skip entire meals? Or how you’d excuse yourself to the bathroom right after eating?

Connor couldn’t stop thinking about it. You had been dating for six months and he hadn’t noticed once. It never even crossed his mind that you could have an eating disorder. You seemed fine.

It plagued his mind as he drove home, he pulled his phone out and called you.

“Hey babe.” You greeted him cheerfully.

“Hey.” Connor’s voice immediately tipped you off that something was wrong.

“What’s up?” You asked softly. “Is something wrong?”

Connor hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Yes, there is. Can you come over?”

That made you worry. “Um, yeah. I can, are you home now?”

“I’m on my way there right now.” Connor told you.

“Alright, yeah. I’ll be right there.” You told him, the worry evident in your voice. “I’ll see you in a few.”

“Thank you, drive safe.” He told you before hanging up the phone and going to his apartment. He spent the time he waited for you thinking about how to brooch the subject. He couldn’t just flat out ask you, that would get him nowhere.

When you got to his apartment, you hesitated before knocking on the door. Usually, you’d just walk in if you knew he was expecting you, because he had told you that you could months ago, but today was different. You didn’t know what was bothering him and you were worried he was going to break up with you.

Connor pulled the door open and gave you an odd look. “You could’ve just come in, it wasn’t locked.”

You stepped inside. “I didn’t know.” You saw him frown so you clarified. “I didn’t know if you were upset with me or not.”

Connor shook his head and gave you a small smile that did little to reassure you. “No, not at all.”

“But you’re upset.” You said quietly.

“Not with you.” Connor told you softly.

You nodded slowly, looking at him. “Then what’s wrong?”

He shut the door behind you. “Let’s sit.” He motioned towards the living room.

You paused, a new fear overcoming you. “Are you...are you breaking up with me?” You asked quickly, your heart breaking as you tried not to start crying then and there at the idea.

“No.” Connor answered you just as quickly as you had asked the question, shaking his head.

You relaxed a little and nodded slowly. “Then what’s this about?”

Connor hesitated. “Let’s sit down and we can talk about it.” He walked to the couch and took a seat and waited for you to sit.

You slowly walked over and took a seat beside him, looking at him and waiting for a moment. “Connor...is everything okay?”

He didn’t answer you right away, he just looked at you. “Can I ask you something?” He asked calmly, and it made you worry.

You nodded slowly. “Of course.” You answered him softly. “Anything.”

“Dr. Charles pointed out that you share the signs of someone with an eating disorder.” Connor started out calmly.

“What’s your question?” You asked slowly, quietly, trying to pretend like you weren’t getting anxious just from the possibility that Connor might suspect something wasn’t right with your eating habits.

“Do you?” He asked, finally looking at you. You could see it in his eyes that he was worried about you, which you hated. You didn’t want to worry him.

You scoffed and shook your head, trying to play it off like it was a crazy idea. “Of course not.” You told him, looking at him but your eyes not meeting his. You could see it on his face that he didn’t believe you. The way his lips set in a firm line and any hope he had that it wasn’t true vanishing, his eyes filling with worry.

“I can help you.” Connor told you, he was pleading and insistent.

“I don’t know what you think I need help with exactly, I’m fine.” You told him with a shrug of your shoulders, trying to remedy the situation before it got out of hand. “I just told you that I don’t. Plus you’ve seen me eat, Connor. Do I really seem like someone that’s starving herself?”

“Charles didn’t say anorexia.” Connor told you in a quiet voice, eyes watching you as you fidgeted. He was upset with himself because he didn’t notice the signs. He didn’t notice how you always had a blanket over you when you were on the couch, no matter what temperature it was in the apartment. He never noticed the calluses on your knuckles. Or how that, coupled with the fact that you complained about having a sore throat, could mean something more. He blamed himself for not noticing soon.

You frowned deeply, seeing that he was looking at your hands now. “So what? He thinks I’m making myself puke?” You asked, starting to get upset.

“You have the signs.” Connor spoke calmly, trying to keep the situation calm.

You stood up, huffing. “What signs exactly? Huh? Because I’m sure they can be explained.”

You were starting to feel nervous and like you were being backed into a corner, you wrapped your arms around your midsection in an attempt to calm yourself as you took a few steps away from the couch.

“I can help you.” Connor told you again, standing up as well.

You spun around to face him. “I don’t need help, Connor, I’m fine.” You emphasized the word fine. But were you really?

Connor took a step towards you, reaching out, it almost seemed like he was trying to tame a wild animal. Did you seem that upset? “You’re not fine, Y/N. You need help and I can help you.”

You shook your head quickly. “I don’t need help because there’s nothing wrong with me!” You shouted at him.

Connor took a deep breath to calm himself and stared at you with a firm expression. “Y/N.” He spoke calmly, and for some reason it made your skin crawl and a fire start in your chest.

“Don’t.” You said in a warning tone, you wore a serious expression and Connor could tell you were angry.

“Just talk to me.” Connor spoke softly, trying to defuse the situation before it got any more out of hand. “I just want to help you.”

“For the last time, I don’t need your help! I have this under control!” Your voice was somewhere between a yell and a scream, and it broke a few times when you hit the highs.

He brought his hands up slightly, almost in surrender, but it just kept reminding you of how someone approaches a wild animal, or a dangerous person. Did he think you were dangerous? “Y/N, please.” He said softly, seeing the pain behind the anger. “I’m not judging you, I just want to help.”

You shook your head ferociously, turning on your heel and heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Connor asked, following you and reaching out to grab your wrist to stop you.

“Away from you.” You told him, pulling free from his grasp.

“Y/N, please.” He repeated, and when you looked at him, you wish you hadn’t because it broke you to see that you were hurting him. “Don’t go.”

“Why should I stay here when you won’t believe me?” You asked angrily, turning and pulling the door open and walking out, slamming it shut behind you.

You took the stairs, feeling like you needed to keep moving. So that’s what you did, first the stairs, then out the door to the city, then you just kept walking on the sidewalk.

PART TWO COMING SOON

#connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes imagines #chicago med imagines #chicago med imagine #tw eating disorder

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violinswim73 · 3 years

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averykedavra · 4 years

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Only Logical

(Hey y’all! My first time posting a story on Tumblr! This is a cross-post from my Ao3 account, which you can find here) Enjoy!

Summary: Thomas is worried about his changing life…again. And all the sides are practically incapacitated with emotion. Again.

Logan’s trying, he really is, but he’s tired of putting up with this. He knows the logical solution is to move on and stop falling into the same holes. But nobody’s listening to logic.

He could force them to listen to him. He could take them to his room and let them see his side of the story. Or he could sit back and let them sort things out. Again.

Maybe it’s time for Logan to take control.

ships: platonic LAMP

warnings: self-hatred, panic attacks, anxiety, logan being a jerk (but he gets better), forced silence and a few consent issues (but just forcing someone to stay somewhere against their will).

word count: 9126

“What’s up, everyone?”

Logan heard the familiar intro and took a deep breath. Already he heard the strain in Thomas’ voice. This was going to be a big one.

“So I just helped a friend of mine move. And it hurt! Not just because I’m really out of shape and strained my back picking up their TV, but because they’re moving. It’s only a few states away, but for someone who barely leaves their house most days? That’s pretty far away!” Logan heard Thomas’ sigh. “And I know I already learned what to do about this, and I know I have to accept the change, but there’s a difference between knowing something and knowing it, you know?”

Logan closed his eyes and sunk out of his room, rising in the living room. His guess was correct. Thomas’ hair was uncombed and his eyes were red. He was in serious need of logic.

“No, I don’t know. Your statement makes no sense.” Logan adjusted his necktie. “If you have access to this knowledge, why do you not act upon it?”

“Hi, Logan.” Thomas didn’t seem very enthusiastic to see him, something that hurt was only to be expected, given his current state. “You’re helpful, you are. It’s just—sometimes knowing something isn’t enough.”

“Are you implying that Logic,” Logan said with a wave at himself, “is not enough to solve a problem? I am the problem-solver. I have the solution and you are unwilling to listen.”

“I know!” Thomas nodded. “I know, and you’re smart and I know. But I don’t feel like listening to you. That’s not a problem with you at all. It’s just how I work. I’m not only made up of logical thoughts, and sometimes other thoughts…overpower those.”

“So the solution here is to convince you of the benefits of Logic?” Logan asked.

“I guess?”

“Then we must call in the others, much as it pains me to do so.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Patton! Virgil! Roman! We have another problem with…feelings.”

Patton rose up first with a big smile. “Don’t I know it, kiddo! I’ve been feeling blue-dad-ba-dee-dad-ba-die all day.”

“I thought it was da-ba dee—oh. I see. You made a pun.” Logan blinked a few times and tried to hold back his laughter sighed at Patton’s foolishness. “Patton, please try to be serious about this.”

“Wow, I seriously can’t believe you’re putting me down like this, Lo.”

“I am not putting you down. You seem to be standing upright as usual.”

“Won’t you stand down, Logan? I can’t stand this!”

“Burn. Burn in a pit of outdated encyclopedias, you Neanderthal.”

“Guys!” Thomas waved his arms. “We get it. Puns are evil. Now, where are the others?”

“You may rejoice!” called Roman, rising and spreading his arms. “Your savior is here!”

“Nobody needs saving,” Logan pointed out. “Except, perhaps, myself.”

“Is there a dragon witch threatening your throne, my good sir?”

“Well, there’s a Patton threatening my sanity.”

Roman looked over at a smiling Patton. “Oh, goodness, Padre, the puns?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Roman. They’re so much pun!” Patton paused and his smile slipped a bit. “That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good! Sorry.”

“Patton?” Logan asked. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course everything’s not all right.” Virgil popped into place on the stairs, his hood pulled over his hair. “Thomas is upset, which means Patton is upset, which means he’s trying to hide it with excessive puns.”

Patton bit his lip and looked down. “Yeah. I’m feeling a little down in the dumps.”

“Aww, Patton.” Thomas looked at the moral side with affection. “That’s okay! It’s understandable. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.”

“Oh, Padre.” Roman looked ashamed. “The burden does rest upon my shoulders as well.”

Logan should have noticed Patton wasn’t okay. He’s supposed to be smarter than this.

“No, it’s all right, kiddos!” Patton giggled. “The important thing is that we’re all here now, and we can talk through it together! How are you all doing?”

“I’m wonderful!” Roman squealed. “Well, mostly.”

Patton quirked an eyebrow and Roman sighed. “I’ve been thinking up plans to get them to change their mind and stay here. I’m not exactly my fabulous self today.”

“That’s okay, Roman.” Thomas smiled. “I’m sure those plans are rather unrealistic, but I appreciate the effort.”

“I’m performing adequately,” Logan said. No one asked any follow-up questions.

“Virgil, buddy?” Thomas asked. “What’s up?”

Virgil growled and hunkered deeper into his sweatshirt. “I’m fine.”

“Falsehood.” Logan resisted the urge to raise his voice on the word, fearing it would upset Virgil further. “You are clearly disconcerted. Please divulge the nature of your concern, and we may do our best to remedy the situation.”

“You know the ‘nature of my concern’, Siri,” Virgil snapped. “I’m worried we won’t stay in touch with them, and then other friends will move away and we’ll be alone and sad and have no purpose for existence and wither away to nothing watching Parks and Recreation. The usual.”

Thomas nodded. “Yep.”

“Virgil, kiddo, I’m so sorry!” Patton screwed up his face. “I know you love your friends, but I promise I’ll never leave you! Ever!”

Virgil stared. “Um, Pat, you okay over there?”

“I’m always okay when you’re around!”

“Oh dear.” Logan tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. “It seems Patton is reacting negatively to this change. Again.”

“So I’m more confused than on avalanche?” Patton asked.

“No. Yes. You’re confusing me. You’re correct, but that’s not the right word—”

“Okay.” Thomas looked around. “Okay, okay. So everyone’s upset?”

“I’m not upset,” Logan pointed out.

“Everyone but Logan is upset.” Thomas rubbed his eyes. “This isn’t good.”

“No, it’s not,” Logan snapped. “We’ve been here before! Roman is trying to obtain someone’s good graces and company through strange means, Virgil is worried we will lose our friends, and Patton is more confused than on avalanche—average. I thought we solved these problems in both the Making Some Changes video and the Moving On videos! I thought we had reached a consensus, and yet the same problems keep occurring. Logically, we should be out of this hole by now.”

“Logan,” Thomas chided. “I think there are some processes we all go through. There are cycles we’re in, and it’s okay for some days not to be great.”

“So you’re saying it’s okay for you and the others to be in a detrimental loop, but not for me?”

The words came out too loudly. Logan didn’t mean to let his frustrations slip out say his point in an unhelpful way.

Thomas seemed taken aback by the harshness. “Logan, no, I didn’t mean that.”

Logan composed himself and continued. “The last time a so-called loop was discovered, we devoted all our energy to correcting it. Now you seem content to waste away your mental energy in another. As your logic, it is my duty to remind you that this is counter-productive and unhelpful.”

“Well, what would you suggest, Lex Poo-ther?” Roman winced at his own joke. “Sorry, Logan. That was insulting and also terrible.”

“None of us are at our best, are we?” Patton agreed.

“Tell me about it,” Virgil muttered.

Logan looked around at his friends coworkers and felt a surge of annoyance. Why did every little thing sideline them? Worse, why was it when they were sidelined, he was never listened to? They seemed to be upset when he left the conversation altogether—past experiences had dictated that—but there was no point to his participation if no one listened to him.

Why was he here if no one listened? Would they really even notice if he left? Although Logan would never dream of ducking out (quack quack) he felt an urge to vanish and retreat into his room.

His room.

There was a way they could listen to him. A way he could increase the influence of logic in the dilemma, something Thomas clearly needed.

But he had promised himself he wouldn’t do that. Not after seeing firsthand the effects of Virgil’s and Patton’s rooms on the other sides—and on Thomas. Risking the mental stability of Thomas was a terrible idea and one he fought against vehemently on every other occasion.

But if it could help them…

“Logan?�� Thomas asked. “Do you have any ideas to restore…you know, logic to the situation?”

And now he had to share an idea or Thomas would think he was useless and stupid more than he already was, he was already failing at helping them what would Thomas think if he knew that Logan didn’t know something that he was a failure of a side-

Logan took a deep breath. “I have an idea, but it’s risky and I’m not sure if it would be productive.”

“Tell us, Logan!” Patton beamed. “I wanna hear all your awesome, amazing, wonderful ideas, you sour little marshmallow, you.”

“Uh-oh, feelings.” Logan stepped away from Patton and avoided his peppy, sentimental gaze.

“Do tell, Logan. If it’s terrible, I can make it better.” Roman smiled self-importantly. “I am the idea guy.”

“If you really want to increase your logical and critical thinking,” Logan began, “we could go—”

“No.” Virgil pulled off his hood. “Logan, no.”

“It’s an option—”

“It’s a horrible option! Last time we did something like this, Thomas became a mess, Patton and Roman almost ruined everything, and you left! The time before, I had to save all of you from being stuck there forever! You’re the one telling us we shouldn’t be stuck in a loop, right? Well, I think we should learn from past mistakes and stay away from the rooms.”

“The rooms?” Thomas looked at Logan. “You’re saying we should go to your room?”

“I’m saying, logically, it might work.” Logan resisted the urge to pull at his hair with nerves. “It would definitely enable you to think more…impartially about all this. It might even calm the others down.”

“Might being the key word.” Virgil glared at Logan. “It also might put everyone in serious danger.”

“My room is not dangerous,” Logan protested. “It is a place of higher, sophisticated thinking.”

“And Patton’s room is glittery and sunny and full of things that make you smile,” Virgil responded. “It’s also the scariest place I’ve ever been.”

“Virgil, I appreciate your caution, but you are often rather…you often…” Logan searched for the right words. “You are apprehensive about most things we do. But both your room and Patton’s did indirectly solve our problems in the end.”

“Yeah, by forcing us to confront them before it was too late.” Virgil tugged his sleeves over his hands. “I dunno, Logan. You’re the smart one here. I’m just sounding the alarm like I’m supposed to.”

“I think it’s a fantastic idea!” Patton clapped his hands together. “A little logic is what we need. And if there’s trouble, Logan can get us out, right, Lo?”

Who knows. “Of course.”

“Then we should at least give it a shot,” Roman agreed, “much as I dread venturing into the tragic kingdom that is Logan’s room.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Logan fired back. “My room is optimized for easy use.”

“It’s so boring!” Roman complained.

“It is functional, and that is what counts.”

“You can be functional and fun-ctional, Specs.”

Patton squealed. “Roman! Pun buddies!”

“Oh yeah, Padre. High five?”

“No!” Thomas waved his arms. “No stretchy arms. We’re getting off task. I need you all to agree on this or I won’t go. Virgil? Can we do this?”

Virgil sighed. “I hate taking the risk, but…Logan’s always the best at finding solutions and calming me down. I gotta think his room might help out. Whatever works.”

“That’s what you said last time.” Thomas raised a finger. “And now I’m scared it’s going to be like last time.”

“It will not be like last time.” Logan needed them to go in his room. Even though it would probably lead to something terrible it was necessary for them to see his perspective. “Patton, you were in a bad state when we entered your room. I am perfectly operational—”Lie. “—and have no intention of letting things slip out of control. If you recall, I was the one who first caught on to the troubles caused by your room. I promise if anything begins to go wrong, I will take immediate action to get you out. I am in control. Things will be okay.”

Patton and Thomas looked reassured. Roman nodded and even Virgil looked a little calmer. “Thanks, Logan,” Thomas said. “I appreciate you looking out for us.”

“It would be illogical to let harm come to you or any of the sides. It would possibly destroy your mental state.”

Logan didn’t know what he’d do without the others.

“Well.” Thomas took a deep breath and steeled himself. “If we’re all in agreement, let’s go.”

“Focus on your logical thoughts,” Roman instructed. “Facts, memories, all the boring stuff cluttering up your head—”

“—watch it—” Logan muttered.

“—and that’s where we need to go.”

“Inertia is a property of matter.” Thomas closed his eyes. “The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

Patton sunk down.

“Mesopotamia is the cradle of civilization, meaning the land between two rivers.”

Roman waved goodbye on his way out.

“I before E, except after C.”

Virgil sighed deeply and sunk.

“The Fitness-Gram Pacer Test is a multi-stage aerobic capacity test—”

Thomas’ voice faded away as Logan felt himself sinking. He reached into the ether and tugged himself to his room, feeling for the others. He grabbed a vibrating blue string, a ribbon-like red string, a purple yarn rope, and a simple white string. Wrapping them around himself, he felt their thoughts connect to his.

This is a bad idea.

This is an awesome idea! Logan’s so smart! We should talk more!

Now we’ve been to all the rooms except for mine! That won’t do. I should take them to my kingdom so they get a sense of real interior design.

–that gets progressively difficult as it goes on—why do I remember this so well—

Logan felt their thoughts tickle in his skull and hoped they couldn’t read his.

And then they arrived, yanked into being.

“Whoa.”

Logan didn’t know who said it, but from the others’ expressions it could have been any of them.

To his annoyance, his room had taken the form of Thomas’ living room. The shelves had shifted to accommodate the couch and kitchen and stairs, things Logan had no use for. Patton rose in front of shelves and books piled against the window. Virgil rose onto the stairs, which were covered with sticky notes boasting Logan’s neat blue writing. Roman’s corner was smaller than usual, but it was covered with ticker-tape spools and little black boxes. Logan looked around and saw books covering the table, old diplomas and certificates adorning the walls, and a science lab bubbling in the kitchen.

Home sweet home.

Logan felt the pressure slough off his back, pressure he didn’t even realize he felt.

“This is amazing!” Thomas said.

“It’s a little messy,” Logan apologized. “From reorganizing itself. Please excuse me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Patton spread his arms wide. “This is like organization central!”

“All these boxes are color-coded,” Roman noted. “So are the books. Is this what you do in your free time?”

“I have an appreciation for structure and efficiency.”

Thomas picked up a book spread-eagled on the floor. “Oh, this is an old astronomy textbook! I remember this from high school!”

“Every book you’ve ever read,” Logan said. “Every fact you’ve ever learned, every song you’ve ever listened to, every memory you’ve collected. It’s all here.”

“Reminds me of my room a bit, Logan!” Patton said with a smile. “I mean, this is nostalgic too, in its own way! You just kept different things!”

Logan shook his head. “It is nothing like your room.”

“Oh my gosh-darn-goodness this is the entire soundtrack of Hamilton!” Roman was unrolling one of the ticker-tapes. “I’m already up to My Shot!”

“Don’t—” Logan reached out. “You’re going to mess it up.”

“Oh, relax, Chris STEMsworth.” Roman tossed the tape aside and grabbed another. “Ooh, this one’s Be More Chill!”

“Can I have a look at these books, Lo?” Patton asked. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed a book off the shelf. “2016.” Flipping it open, he read “Thomas ordered a pizza but forgot to add pineapple for his friend Valerie. He worried she would be mad, but she ate the pizza anyway.”

“I think I remember that,” Thomas said. “It was March, right?”

“April, actually,” Logan corrected. “April 10th.”

Roman rolled his eyes, unspooling Merrily We Roll Along. “Pineapple on pizza? She’s better off without it, the heathen.”

“These are…” Virgil fingered a few Post-It notes. “70 percent of the human body is water? A platypus has venomous spurs on its feet? Amelia Earhart may have been eaten by crabs?”

“Facts,” Logan clarified.

“How do you know they’re facts?” Virgil asked. “What if she wasn’t eaten by crabs? What if the numbers are off?”

“To the best of my knowledge, they are facts. I leave the conspiracy theories to you.”

Roman picked up one of the boxes and pressed the button on top. The sound of a crackling fire filled the room. He turned it off and tried another—this one a bit of Moonlight Sonata. The third was a rap song Thomas had gotten stuck in his head six years ago. The fourth was a gum commercial.

“This place is so…cool!” Thomas said. “Logan, it’s incredible how much is in here!”

“Well, I am your logic,” Logan said, trying not to let on how much the compliment meant. “It is my job to maintain this.”

“Wow.” Thomas spun around for a second. “So…what do we do now?”

“We explore!” Patton suggested.

“We…leave?” Virgil begged. “I mean, this room is calming me down, which is nice, but also this room is calming me down which feels kind of invasive.”

“How about we talk?” Logan suggested. “We do our usual strange, roundabout conversation in a more calming and rational environment and see where that takes us.”

“Okay, that might work.” Thomas looked around at the others. “Who wants to start?”

“I will!” Patton volunteered. “I’d like to say, Logan, thank you for not having spiders in your room.”

“Why—why would my room possess spiders?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Well, okay, then.” Logan shook his head. “Patton, do you want to talk about your feelings instead of the spiders?”

“You only had to ask, kiddo!” Patton said with a smile.

“I—I did ask—just now—”

“You’re confusing him,” Virgil said fondly. “Be careful or logan.exe will crash.”

“Now you’re just confusing him more,” Roman protested.

“I am not confused. I stand here before you, very un-confused.” Logan waved at himself. “Patton, back on task, perhaps?”

“Of course!” Patton clasped his hands together and smiled at them all. “I hate everything!” he squealed cheerfully. “And I feel like a real grumpy-wumpus and I want to crawl into a blanket burrito and hide ‘til the sun goes away!”

Logan took a second to process that. Roman looked at Patton with undisguised concern, and Virgil let out a breath.

“Pat?” Thomas asked. “You’re really that upset?”

“Well, not as much as I was. Your room is really calming, Logan.”

“Still, that’s—” Thomas sighed. “Pat, that’s not good. You have to tell us.”

“You don’t have to,” Virgil amended quietly. “But you can. We’ll help.”

“We shall do our best to assist you in any way possible,” Roman agreed.

“Well, thanks, kiddos!” Patton said. He glanced over at Logan, who nodded as well. “That means a lot.”

“Wonderful,” Logan said. “Is your dilemma concluded?”

“Logan,” Thomas said. “I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“You’re right.” Logan rubbed his eyes. “Although it would be far easier if you could shelve this problem with a few simple words, human emotions are not so kind to us. This will be an ongoing battle, Patton. Is there anything we can do right now?”

“I mean,” Patton said with a sly smile, “if you mean anything…“

“Within. Within reason.” Logan frantically held up a finger. “There are limits to this.”

“I’m just saying, I might feel a little better if you made a few dad jokes—”

“No. Dad jokes are childish.”

“Childish?” Patton gasped.

“Yes, Patton. Now stop gawking, you look like a clown.”

Patton blinked and shut his mouth.

“Jeez,” Virgil muttered.

“That was kind of harsh, dude.” Thomas frowned at Logan. “Everything okay?”

“I am adequate,” Logan said quickly. It wasn’t a lie. He detested lying. And being in his room always made him feel more levelheaded. It quieted the whispers in the back of his mind. It quelled the anger that he didn’t feel and the guilt that didn’t follow him. It squashed away every bit of himself that he hated and let him do his job.

“Your turn, I presume?” Logan asked, looking to Roman.

“Yeah, I guess.” Roman shrugged. “Don’t have much to say. I’m trying not to mess it up by, you know, sabotaging their car or getting in a plane to surprise them or holding them hostage.”

“Thanks for that,” Thomas agreed. “I’d like not to get arrested today.”

“Jail would be a snore.” Roman untangled the lyrics to Mamma Mia from his arm. “And I know that kind of thinking is wrong, and I’m trying not to be…a burden on you all, but…it’s hard to stop wishing.”

“I know,” Thomas said.

“Well, I don’t.” Logan adjusted his glasses and levered a stare at Roman. “Is this another of those knowing-but-not-believing things again? I don’t understand those.”

“It’s like…” Thomas waved his hands in an attempt to explain. “Roman, you’re my creativity. Help me.”

“It’s like if you’re used to…living in a house filled with purple,” Roman said. “Everything’s purple. The walls, the floors, the furniture. And one day you decide it’s time for a change, so you paint everything…red!”

“Why would you paint the furniture?” Logan asked. “For that matter, why only one color? This seems like terrible interior design—”

“Like you know anything about design, Bill Nye the Science Tie. It’s a metaphor.” Roman rolled his eyes before continuing. “After that, for a while, you know the house will be all red. But every time you walk in, you can’t help expecting—feeling—that it’s gonna be purple. You’re used to that pattern. Logic can’t override what you feel.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Logan said. Too much bitterness leaked into his words. Thomas and Patton looked at Logan with concern.

“Logan, it’s important to strike a balance,” Thomas insisted. “Both your input and the feelings I possess are valid. Repressing them won’t make them go away or have things make more sense. Life is messy and complicated sometimes.”

“I understand that feelings are complicated. I also understand that feelings are making you act pathetic.”

Logan experienced a pang at Thomas’ hurt expression, but it felt buried under layers of water, something intangible and unreachable.

“Thomas, this needs to stop. You cannot let your emotions…override your logical functions. Facts are facts, and the fact is, your inability to climb out of these emotional holes are doing you damage. None of you are listening to me. If you did, perhaps things would be better off. As it is…”

Logan took a deep breath. He didn’t want to say it, in fact he barely believed it, but it needed to be said.

“I think you would be better off if I took more control on a daily basis and you put the others in the backseat. They have their functions, but unchecked and unmaintained they are useless at best and detrimental at worst.”

And he was no better than any of them. He was the worst of all. He let their icky, complicated human emotions get to him, and now look where he was—believing he could feel things. Believing he was part of a team.

Logic worked alone. Logic got the job done. Attachments weren’t part of the deal.

Patton froze in place. It looked like he almost flickered. Roman winced and bit his lip. Virgil was already retreating into his hoodie, but he looked up with concern. “Logan…”

Not Logan. Logic. L-O-G-I-C. Why was that so hard? He’d gotten along fine without a name until Patton had used it. Sweet, naïve Patton, who would never understand how his misguided efforts only hurt Thomas more.

“Logan, are you okay?”

Logic stared at Virgil. “Why do you all keep asking that?”

“Because I think you aren’t. Not completely.” It was Thomas talking now. Thomas. Thomas, trying to find emotions somewhere in Logic. What was wrong with them all? What was wrong with him?

“Is it the room, buddy? Is that what’s happening?” Thomas reached out. “Logan, talk to us. This isn’t like you.”

His room. His room would have detrimental effects on the others at some point. Or did they have to be detrimental? Maybe they could be positive. Maybe they could work everything out. Maybe they would see that Logic was right, Logic was sound, Logic knew what to do.

Logan didn’t know what to do.

“I do not believe the room is affecting me infinitesimally.”

Patton giggled. “Logan, you used it wrong again.”

Did he?

“Be quiet,” Logic snapped. “If I use it that way, it’s correct.”

“Whoa, dude. You’re acting fishier than the kraken’s crack.” Roman held up his hands. “Did we do something? You sure the room isn’t tying your tie in knots, Teach?”

Logic adjusted his glasses. “Maybe it is taking away a bit of my filter. I have never been one for softening the truth.”

“That’s not the truth,” Thomas argued. “That can’t be. Logan, I know you, and I know you’re fond of us. You wouldn’t say this stuff normally.”

“This is all wrong.” It was the first time Virgil had spoken up, and his voice was mouse-quiet. He coughed and spoke louder. “This is wrong. The room’s affecting us, we need to go.”

“The room is not affecting anyone. I have everything under control.” Logic tried his best to look reassuring, though Virgil seemed unconvinced. “Besides, maybe a bit more logic in your systems would do you all some good.”

“Hey!” Thomas yelled. “Pump the breaks, Logan!”

Sorry.

“What? I merely spoke facts.”

“Pump. Those. Breaks.” Thomas glared at Logic, who knew better than to speak again. “Good. Now, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you can at least agree there’s a logical possibility of some interference due to your room’s influence. Can you please calm down and help us out?”

Calm down? He was calm. He was calmer than he had ever been in his life. He felt six feet underwater, floating, removed from everything.

“Yes,” Logan said, resisting the urge to sneer.

“Great! Fantastic. We’re getting somewhere.” Thomas looked at Creativity. “Roman, how are you feeling?”

“A little more subdued,” Creativity admitted. Logic supposed he should have guessed that—the side hadn’t sung a single one of the songs now decorating his shirt. “Other than that, I’m pretty glittery, friendo.”

“Patton?”

Morality shrugged and Logic could have sworn he actually wavered—blinked out of existence and back into it again. “I dunno, Thomas,” he said, and his voice was flat. “Just kinda eh.”

“Could you be more specific?” Logic asked. “I have a natural curiosity in these things.”

“Don’t badger the witness,” Thomas chided.

“He has information.”

“He gave you information.”

“Wobbly, weird, vague information that’s as slippery and unsubstantial as the rest of him!”

Morality made a little sad sound in his throat. Logic waited for the unwelcome pang of regret, but none came. If Morality couldn’t handle scrutiny, that was his problem.

“Logan.” Thomas didn’t add anything else. His gaze was filled with disappointment.

That got a pang. A hard one.

“And how about our favorite Dark Knight?” Creativity asked, turning to Anxiety. Anxiety, who had his hood pulled over his hair and his hands tapping at his knees. He was anxious, that much was clear, but Logic didn’t know if it stemmed from the tension in the conversation or the atmosphere at large. He had hoped—listen to him, he had believed, not hoped, hoping was for dreamers like Creativity—he had believed that his room would calm the side down. Apparently that was asking too much from the perpetual worrywart.

“I’m fine,” Anxiety said.

Or tried to say.

But the words never made a sound.

Logic looked to the others. He definitely wasn’t imagining this—they looked as shocked as he was. Anxiety blinked a few times. “Hey!” he said. Again, his mouth moved soundlessly. His fingers flew to his lips and he poked at them, panic growing on his face.

“Logan?” Thomas asked. That name—he was sick of that name!

“Anxiety,” Logic said in a low voice. “What is happening?”

Anxiety said a flurry of soundless words Logic couldn’t decipher.

“I don’t think he knows,” Morality translated. “He seems pretty panicked.”

“Write something,” Creativity offered. “Is there a pen?”

Logic tossed Anxiety a pen, who caught it and quickly scribbled down I don’t know what’s happening, I can’t talk in scratchy, thin handwriting. All over a group of sticky notes about bears, Logic noted. Thomas had better not need to remember the eating habits of bears in the near future.

“You can’t talk?” Morality frowned, and there—there it was again. His whole form jumped like he had a broken connection. Logic looked to the others. No one seemed alarmed.

“This is very disconcerting,” Logic said. He didn’t know what he was referring to. At this point, it could be everything from the moment he joined this frivolous conversation.

“Tell me about it!” Thomas yelled. “Virgil’s mute! And why do you think that is? Logan, you’re shutting him up, whether you mean to or not! Your room is doing this!”

“As much as his endlessly depressing comments drive me insane,” Creativity agreed, “I would hardly wish our dear Sweeney Odd to be silenced. Logan, can’t you stop?”

“It’s Logic,” Logic corrected stiffly. “And I do not know what has happened to Anxiety. I have no way of stopping it.”

Thomas stared at Logic with that same confused frown. “Well, surely the solution is to get out of the room? It caused this. Out of it, we could regroup and think of a solution while we’re not being…influenced.”

Anxiety nodded vehemently.

Logan knew they needed to leave. Everything was wrong, going wrong, he hadn’t expected it to be this bad—

“No.”

There was a moment of dead silence. Morality reached for a book and it slipped through his grasp, his face growing pale. Anxiety pulled his knees up to his chest and took a deep breath. Creativity looked at Logic with a strange expression, a guarded expression, like Logic was the Dragon Witch. An enemy he was prepared to fight.

“Logan…” Thomas whispered.

“Stop calling me that!” Logic blurted out. “I am Logic!“

“Logic. Buddy.” Thomas spoke like he was confronting a wild animal. “You need to get us out. The room is messing with your head and—”

“It’s my room, Thomas.” Logic felt a coldness steal over him. “Maybe I’m not turning into some kind of enemy. Maybe this is who I am.”

Morality flickered. Longer and slower this time. It took him a moment to fade back into view. “That’s not who you are. You’re our friend.”

“Am I?” Logic felt everything he’d ever suppressed rise in a tide of anger. “To the best of my knowledge, friends listen to each other, and you have never listened to me. You pretend you need my help, but in the end, your own petty squabbles get in the way of everything. And you act as though this is problem-solving! There is no glory in solving problems you cause! You patch up holes, then the patches get holes and you patch up those holes. But it can’t keep working. You are in a loop. You are in an unbreakable cycle and it is because you believe you can solve every problem with a catchy song and talking about feelings. Thomas, we are not living on Sesame Street. We are living in the real world. The real, harsh, logical world that you are not prepared for, because you would rather hide in your emotions than face the truth!”

Logic closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see their faces.

“I’m tired of playing pretend with you and your sock puppets. I’m tired of doing things your way and hoping for the slightest ounce of recognition. I’m tired of being Logan. I’m Logic, and I’m doing things my way, and we’re staying in my room as long as it takes for you to see sense and know that I. Am. Right.“

He hated every word he said. He hated every word that came out of his mouth, because they weren’t really for Patton and Roman and Virgil and Thomas. They were for Logan. It was a message from Logic to Logan. And if he could make the other sides listen, if he could make them see the light, maybe he could reconcile all the parts of himself and make himself listen as well.

He knew he needed to be emotionless. But he felt a different way. That’s what Roman had talked about, right? The difference between knowing and believing. He couldn’t logic his way into believing that repression was the best idea. He tried and tried but the walls were always purple.

Logic could logic his way through anything.

Logic always knew what was best.

Logan failed to be Logic.

Logic was better than Logan.

They would all see that, eventually. Once they got over their petty emotions about the whole situation, they would understand. Logic needed to be in charge.

Even if right now, they all looked about to cry.

Was that his fault?

He didn’t know anymore.

His room was closing around him, and everything was leaking out.

Anxiety scribbled frantically on a few sticky notes and stuck them on the wall.

Let us out.

You don’t know what you’re doing.

Logan Logic please stop.

Thomas wordlessly mouthed the same things. Logic didn’t think his host had been silenced forcefully. Maybe he couldn’t find his voice. Maybe Logic couldn’t hear him anymore.

Morality pulled his hoodie tighter around his shoulders. The hoodie Logic gave him. The hoodie he always kept around his shoulders and cleaned every week.

Creativity, almost automatically, reached for his sword.

Despite himself, Logic took a step back.

“No!” Creativity said to himself. The sword disappeared. “Logan, it’s okay. I’m not going to fight you on this. I know as well as you do that this is not the answer. You’re the one always on us about repression, right? Well, forcing us to listen to you by silencing Virgil is repression. You can’t just force out emotional thoughts and hope they’ll go away. You have to work with us, not against us.”

“I can’t,” Logic said.

“Try.”

“I can’t. Emotions are…unproductive.”

“But they’re there. They’re not going away. You can’t force emotions out of your head, Logan.” Creativity Roman reached out, face full of pain. “You always have such good advice, you know. I don’t know what I’m doing. But you do. You helped all of us. You should take your own advice and accept every part of yourself.” He sighed. “Even the parts that are messy, or strange, or unproductive.”

Logic stared at Creativity and for a second something stirred deep within him, like a bottle bobbing to the surface of the ocean. Then a wind passed over him, cold and dark, and everything sunk.

“It’s my job,” he said coldly. “I am Logic and that is my job.”

“I am Creativity and that is mine,” Creativity mimicked. “But you know I’m more than that, right? I have my own dreams, my own struggles, my own life. I can’t pretend I know exactly how this works but I know I’m me. And you’re you.”

Logic shook his head slightly.

“Look at Virgil.” Anxiety winced at the sudden attention. “He’s Anxiety, sure, but he’s not just Anxiety. He’s our friend. He’s more than just a part of Thomas, and treating him like he is would be treating him like—” Creativity glanced away. “Like a bad guy.”

Anxiety folded into himself but gave Creativity a small smile.

Logan is the bad guy here.

“You hate me,” Logic blurted out, staring at Creativity. “Why are you doing this?”

Creativity’s eyes widened and something in them broke. “What? I don’t hate you, Logan. We don’t always get along, but you’re one of us.”

“We’re friends,” Thomas added, finally finding his voice.

Anxiety gave him a lopsided half-smile and shrugged in agreement.

“Family,” Morality said with all this warmth and where was this coming from, they were supposed to hate him, why were they looking at him like he was normal, like he wasn’t defective?

“You’re all wrong,” Logic said matter-of-factly, because the fact of the matter was, they were all inhibited by bias and emotion. Only he saw things clearly.

“Maybe we are,” Thomas admitted. “Or maybe you are.”

“I am never wrong. I do not make mistakes.”

Anxiety snorted loudly and affectionately. He looked at Logic like looking at a kid who had stolen from a cookie jar. It was patronizing and it was pathetic.

“Shut up,” he told Anxiety, even though Anxiety was silent.

“Shut up,” he told Creativity, who flinched but met his gaze.

“Shut up,” he told Morality, who just sighed.

“We have to stay,” he told Thomas. “There is no other way.”

And they listened. They had to. Nobody could speak and mess it up with foolish emotions or insecurities. It was perfect. It was everything Logic had asked for, everything he ever wanted.

Wasn’t it?

“I can’t stay, Logic.”

Logic looked to Morality, who smiled sadly and flickered. For a terrifying second there was just curtains and books before Morality reappeared.

“What?” Logic asked. “Morality, you have to.”

“But I can’t.” Morality held up his hands and Logic saw they were shimmering and translucent. He heard a gasp from someone but couldn’t tear his eyes away. “This is the opposite of me, Lo. This room. It’s the same for you, but you left my room in time. If I don’t leave, I’ll vanish.”

“You can’t leave me here,” Logic argued. “You need to listen.”

“I can’t listen to you.” Morality’s eyes widened. “I want to, but I can’t. Not now. Not here.”

Of course. Of course Morality didn’t listen. Of course one of them had to ignore him, had to undermine his authority. He should have expected no less. Doubtless the flickering was another of Morality’s tricks to get him to lower his guard. Logic steeled himself. He couldn’t let Morality leave.

Morality giggled blankly and waved his cat paws. “This is quite a cat-astrophe, huh?”

“Patton.” Creativity stepped forward. “Patton, you need to leave.”

“I can’t until he lets me.” Morality looked at Logic. “Please let us leave, Lo.”

Let them leave. Let them leave. Let them leave.

“Just a moment,” Thomas argued. “Give him a moment in my house. We can keep talking about this but we need to keep him safe.”

Let them leave, let them leave, why aren’t you letting them leave—

There was a thud from the stairs. Anxiety had thrown a book at the wall. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his hands were shaking.

This had to be a trick. He couldn’t let down his guard. He couldn’t let Morality’s puppy-dog eyes manipulate him into letting them go.

“Logan, it’s okay.” Morality gave him a soft smile. “I get it. Everything will be okay.”

“Shut up!” Logic snapped. “I told you to listen. Stop making up excuses, Morality.”

Morality bit his lip.

And then his whole body shuddered and skipped a few beats and faded and stammered and there was nobody there. There was just a few books and a window. Silence where a voice used to be, emptiness in the spot where his hoodie rested on his shoulders.

“Patton!“

Logan heard the yell and assumed it had been Thomas or Roman. A few seconds later, he realized it came from him. Logan.

“Patton,” he repeated. “Patton!”

“Where did he go?” Roman said sharply. “Logan, where did he go?”

“I don’t know!” Logan was too confused to suppress the waver in his voice. “I don’t know, I don’t, I—”

“Logan.” Thomas stared at Logan. “Calm down. We can’t get anywhere if you’re freaking out.”

“I’m perfectly calm!” Logic Logan Logic Logan tried to smile, but his face stretched wrongly and he felt waves crash over top of him. “I’m fine!”

“Logan, breathe—”

“Shut up, I’m fine!” he snapped, shoving everything down and yanking a lid closed on his panic. There was no time for this. “What should we do?”

“We need to leave,” Thomas said. “Now more than ever.”

Roman nodded. “Get us out, Logan.”

“But what about Patton—”

“We’ll find him. I promise.” Thomas spoke with certainty. Logan didn’t know where it was coming from. “Now, we have to go.”

Logan looked at their encouraging faces. Thomas smiled, Roman drew himself up taller, and even Virgil gave him a thumbs up. Patton’s spot remained empty.

“It’s always abrupt when I leave,” Logan admitted. “Be ready for that.”

“We’ve got you,” Thomas said. “You’ll be okay.”

He wasn’t talking about himself.

Well, maybe he was.

Logan nodded and closed his eyes. He felt himself sink into the ocean surrounding him and thoughts rose, unbidden, to the surface. Why do you listen to them? Don’t give away your advantage for a simple trick. Maybe without Morality, you’ll have more control.

Patton’s shocked face sprung to mind.

It opened something within him and a flood of memories hit him at once.

”Hey! We have the same glasses!”

“You’re so smart, you could solve anything!”

“With you, I’m always home!”

“Logan, can you stop? Please?”

Patton was the best of all of them. Patton deserved the world. He had done so much and been so kind. Logan would save him or die trying.

He reached and found three shattered strings, muted and trembling. A purple yarn strand, a beautiful red ribbon, and a neat white string. He wrapped them around his hand like a puppetmaster and he sunk, taking them along.

The space beneath his room seemed larger and emptier than before. He felt cold laughter sink into his skin, and knew if he let go he wouldn’t find his way to the surface. Thoughts spun around him.

Is Logan okay?

Is Patton okay?

Will we be okay?

And then, a voice from deep within.

Is that them?

If Logan had a mouth, he would have laughed with relief. If he had eyes, he’d have cried.

Instead, he just reached over and tied a bright blue string around himself.

And pulled them, reached for them, flew into the sun.

Logan rose in the center of Thomas’ room, his usual spot. Roman rose, Virgil rose, Thomas rose—and Patton rose. Patton. Patton was okay.

Logan felt relief and guilt crush him at the same time.

“Pat!” Virgil yelled, his voice too loud but so welcome. “You’re okay!”

“Of course I am, kiddo!” Patton shrugged and smiled. “I pulled myself out before I completely disappeared. I’m sorry if you were worried.”

“It’s great to see you, Padre.” Roman’s smile seemed to glow.

“Thank goodness,” Thomas said. “That could have been really bad, if Logan—”

He stopped himself, but Logan heard the unsaid words.

If Logan hadn’t let them leave. If Logan had ignored Patton’s problem. If Logan had become what he almost did.

They hated him. They had to. That was just logical. He had worn out his welcome and put them in danger, and now they would lock him in the room he loved so much. They’d stop pretending to be his friends and stop pretending they cared about the defective robot in the corner. They’d shun him, and he deserved that, he knew he did, so why did it hurt so much?

It had to happen. He’d messed up. He’d been a fool.

Patton hated him.

Patton—Logan almost gasped as a hot streak of pain stabbed his chest. He couldn’t imagine a world where Patton hated him.

That was reality now. He would have to deal.

“Logan.” Roman’s eyes were hard. “Logan, we need to talk. What was that?”

They hate you they hate you theyhateyoutheyhateyoutheyhateyou—

“Logan!” Thomas said. “Are you alright?”

Logan noted with some corner of his mind that his hands were shaking and his legs were growing weaker. He felt he would collapse. He thought he might faint and die right there. Black spots crowded his vision and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t look at their faces—and maybe if he told them sorry they wouldn’t hurt him, but he knew they would, he knew he deserved all of this.

He was such a master of words and he couldn’t even talk his way out of this—he couldn’t even strike a deal to keep his job or keep his life or maybe even his friendship.

You failed you failed youfailedyoufailedyoufailed—

Logan grasped at his chest but he couldn’t breathe, he was about to cry or collapse or shatter into a million scratchy pieces digging into his lungs—

Someone was talking, their faces swum before him—

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I messed up and I know you hate me but I’m sorry, I promise, I never meant for it to go that far, you can hate me and it’s fine, but I wanted you to know, I guess—I mean, I know it doesn’t mean much but I wanted to say it anyway because I’m pathetic like that and I don’t know what I’m doing—”

Logan felt the words tear from his mouth. He wasn’t even in control of his speech anymore, was he? Not in control of anything. The control he’d wrestled from the jaws of despair was gone, spilled on the floor and burned to ash.

But he didn’t deserve that control. He took his control and used it to hurt them. It made sense he had lost everything he cherished.

It was only fair. Only logical.

He really felt like he was about to die.

And then he heard someone speak.

“Four, seven, eight, Logan.”

Logan lifted his face to see Virgil staring intently at him. “What?” he whispered.

“Breathe. Four, seven, eight.”

Logan took a breath. Four seconds in, seven seconds hold, eight seconds out. And again, and again, and again.

“What do you see?” Virgil asked. “Five things.”

“You,” Logan managed to get through numb lips. “Roman. Thomas. Patton. The—the floor.”

“Four things you can feel.”

“My tie.” It was too tight around his neck. “The floor. My glasses, my shirt, my shoes.”

“Three things you can hear.”

“You. Um…the cars outside. Roman shifting position every three seconds.”

Roman flushed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Two things you can smell.”

Logan sniffed. “Thomas’ body odor and a lingering burning smell from the bread he overcooked yesterday.”

Thomas rubbed his nose. “Thanks, buddy.”

“And one thing you can taste?”

Logan licked his lips. Salt? Oh, crap. “Um…blood? It appears I bit my tongue at some point.”

“Right. Okay.” Virgil opened his palms. “How do you feel?”

“Better?” Logan suggested. And it wasn’t a lie. He still felt an undercurrent of anxiety, but it felt a little more manageable. “Thank you, Virgil,” he said with as much genuine gratitude as he could muster.

“No problem,” Virgil said, flushing at the compliment. “You do it for me all the time when I have panic attacks, so—”

“Oh, that wasn’t a panic attack.” Logan straightened his glasses and tie. “I simply became overwhelmed by the…emotions that resurface after traveling from my room. It was not that serious.”

Virgil snorted. “Cut the crap, Logan. You’re talking to the literal embodiment of anxiety. I know what a panic attack looks like.”

Logan opened his mouth to retort but couldn’t think of an argument. It was a panic attack. He, Logic, had a panic attack.

Wonderful.

“So, Logan.” Thomas spoke slowly and carefully, probably afraid a wrong word would set Logan off and get them locked in his room. “Can we talk?”

“Actually, I have some important…business…to attend to.” Logan waved his hand vaguely. “I think I’ll be going.”

“You can’t leave!” Roman burst out.

“I am fully capable of the act. Besides, I am hardly in the mood to be yelled at.”

“Yelled at?” Patton asked.

“Well, yes.” Logan looked around, confused. “I know people tend to yell when they are upset with someone—”

“Logan, we’re not mad at you!” Thomas said.

“You…aren’t?” This didn’t make sense. “But I thought you hated me. I mean, I made such a huge mistake! I hurt all of you! Especially Patton!”

Roman looked at Logan with warmth in his eyes. “No one hates you.”

“You jumped to a conclusion, Lo.” Virgil shrugged. “I should know. It’s what I do.”

“And of course we’re not mad,” Thomas promised. “We don’t want to yell at you. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m… okay?”

After everything that happened, after everything he did, they just wanted to know if he was okay.

Logan felt a sob build up in his throat and he choked on it, trying to keep it down.

“It’s all right, Logan.” Patton smiled softly. “Let it out.”

And Logan did. He sunk to the ground, covering his face and crying. It was only a minute. He kept it to only a minute because it was humiliating to cry like this in front of the others. But for a minute he sobbed into his knees, and it felt a strange kind of great. It felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. It felt like he was washing all the ugliness and anger out of his system.

Then he shook himself, wiped his face, and stood up.

Everyone looked at him with pure affection and concern.

How could he ever believe they would hate him?

“Right.” Logan nodded. “I think we can agree we aren’t doing this again?”

“Definitely,” Virgil said.

“I second that,” Roman agreed.

Patton merely nodded and smiled.

“So, I think the question is, what do we do now?” Thomas looked around. “I still feel kinda bad.”

“That’s okay.” Logan didn’t even think about what he was saying. He just spoke. “Emotions are part of the deal. However you’re feeling, it’s completely normal. Emotions aren’t logical and that’s—that’s okay.”

Thomas smiled slowly. “What brought this on, Logan?”

“A world without emotions is…” Logan glanced at Patton and looked away. “Less helpful than I thought it would be.”

Roman nodded. “Thank you for that, Logan. I know this was a hard quest for you, and I’m proud that you faced your dilemma.”

“Same here.” Virgil pulled at his sleeve. “Lo, you can always talk to us, okay? We wanna help out when you feel bad.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “I can’t promise I won’t take that back in twenty minutes, but I’ll try.”

“Good enough for now,” Thomas said. “Thanks, guys. Truly. Roman, thanks for keeping us moving.”

“It was my pleasure,” Roman said. “I am very energetic.”

“Virgil, thanks for being solid during this.”

“I’m freaking out internally but okay.”

“Logan.” Thomas smiled. “Thanks for opening up to us. It was really brave.”

Logan looked away and tried not to blush at the compliment. “If emotions aren’t going away, I might as well try work with them.”

“Exactly. You really are so smart.”

Logan smiled, just a bit.

“Now, guys, I think we’re done here—”

“Wait.” Logan felt himself freeze, but he didn’t take it back. “Wait, guys. I need to say something.”

“Yeah?” Roman asked.

He glanced at Virgil’s supportive face and Thomas’ smiling one, before settling on Patton. Patton, who’d been unusually quiet. Patton, who he’d hurt and suppressed. Patton, who he had so much to say to and so little words to say them.

“Patton.”

Patton looked a little surprised. “Yeah, Lo?”

“Um…” Logan clasped his hands behind his back and took a deep breath. “What do you call an alligator in a vest?”

“What?” Patton frowned.

“An investigator.”

Patton blinked. “Did you just—”

“What do you get when you cross a watermelon and a dog? A melon-collie. What did one eye say to the other? Between you and me, something smells.”

Patton giggled. “Logan! Are you actually—”

Logan smiled shyly. “Why couldn’t the pony sing in the choir? He was a little horse!”

Patton laughed this time, a full-belly laugh that sent warmth all through Logan. “Good one! Why shouldn’t you believe an atom?”

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“Because they make up everything!”

Logan snickered, at both the terrible pun and the triumphant look on Patton’s face. “Wow, Patton. You really have this down to a science.“

“What can I say? I love inventing new puns!” Patton smiled and placed his hands on his hips. “I should file a Patton-t.“

“I think the odds of anyone appreciating these are low.” Logan waited a second, then smiled. “Gan.”

“Lo-gan. Logan.” Patton laughed. “Logan!”

Thomas beamed. “This is so wholesome.”

“I have more puns,” Logan suggested. “We could keep doing this all day. It might make you feel better.”

“Sounds practically perfect!” Patton clapped his hands together. “Thomas, I’m afraid we have plans for a pun-tastic afternoon. Can we go?”

“Of course!” Thomas waved. “Logan, Patton, I hope you have fun. And all of you, thanks. From the bottom of my heart.”

“You’re welcome,” Logan said warmly. “It was tough, but in the end, we got there.”

“Wherever you go, Logan, I will follow.” Patton nodded. “Gan.”

Logan laughed, and all the Sides sunk down, to the Commons where Logan and Patton could make puns, and Virgil could listen to music, and Roman could sing the entire soundtrack of Hamilton.

Thomas posted the video, one dilemma seen through to its conclusion, several more already clamoring at the horizon.

Nothing was perfect. Nothing was even close. They were sad and scared and angry and each their own special mess.

But they had each other.

And Logan was starting to believe that was enough.

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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surveys by -thoughtlessdork

Have you ever had the chicken pox? No. I’m constantly in a place of waiting for it to pass by, because everyone tells me all people are bound to have it at one point in their lives (idk how true that is, though). I am also told it gets a lot suckier as one gets older, so...not too thrilled about it at all.

how often do you do laundry? I don’t handle that chore myself, but it’s done 1–2 times a week in our house.

Have you ever been evicted? Nopes.

would you grow your own garden? I don’t see that happening. I’m a magnet for killing plants.

do you know anyone who snores? I do.

Trigger warning kinda, by the end.

what is your favorite font? Proxima Nova. It’s the default font that my org used for all documents and works-in-progress, and it ended up becoming my actual real-life favorite. I’ve always picked out that font even outside of org matters.

do you know what a wombat is? Sure.

would you make a good movie critic? Not at all. I don’t know enough about different filmmaking elements to make a reliable critic. I’ve criticized things like acting, plots, and dialogues in the past, of course; but there’s still so many things that go into films that aren’t overtly projected like lighting, symbolism, hidden meanings, etc. I don’t have a very good nose for those.

what goal are you aiming for this year? In the last 8 weeks of the year? Hmm...avoiding corona would be at the top of that list, lmao.

are you currently reading any books at the moment? No. I’ve stopped opening the book I used to constantly mention on here.

when i say foxy lady what comes to mind? Beyoncé’s character in the Austin Powers movie she was in lol; her name was Foxxy.

would you have liked to have lived during the Victorian times? Wasn’t this era like a golden age of sorts for the UK? I’d love to visit for that purpose; but given the still-horrible hygiene and living conditions for most people of the time, I wouldn’t choose to live there.

would you own a Siamese cat? No.

have you ever had an ultimate adrenaline rush? I don’t think so. I’ve had bursts of energy in the past, but I wouldn’t call any of them an ultimate adrenaline rush.

do you like deviled eggs? I’ve never had them; it’s not a common dish here. But they always look so good in the American shows I watch??? I really hope they taste as good as they look.

what tends to upset you? Hearing anything about animal abuse.

what's the farthest you've walked? I can’t give you a distance, but my parents opted for us to walk the whole time we were in Bali (except if we had a tour day which included transportation). Walking in an unfamiliar - and very humid - country and not knowing where anything is (this was before food and travel apps got as detailed as they are today) and ending up walking long stretches because you can’t locate any good local spots is a very easy way to run out of patience, apparently.

what is your favorite horror movie? Carrie was pretty fun.

what does your favorite shirt look like? It’s a twist on the Chicago flag, made black and red and with a raised fist in the middle. At the back it says “CM Punk: Best in the World.” Been my favorite and most overused shirt for the past 9 years. My friends tease me about it sometimes, but I don’t care lol, the shirt is very significant to me.

is your life like a daily routine? It is, but I prefer that it is. I like when things are in my control and, for the most part, predictable. I enjoy spontaneity in short bursts.

were you ever told as a child if you eat carrots you'll have pretty eyes? So many times.

what career are you most interested in? Communications and media, so it’s great that I’m headed there so far.

have you ever seen a rooster? Sure.

what time do you usually wake up? I wake up wake up by 7:30 or 8 AM, but I usually also wake up for a bit any time between 4–6 AM. Sometimes I choose to stay up from then, and sometimes I’d want to go back to sleep.

what do you think about religion? It’s good when people use it for good, or if it has helped save a person’s life. In my own personal experience, though, it’s beenhard to find Christians who aren’t hypocritical. So even though I see religion’s potential, I don’t have a lot of trust in believers themselves.

what made you feel most accomplished in your life so far? Graduating college.

have you ever seen a lunar eclipse? I saw the super blue blood moon two years ago, which according to a quick Google search is a lunar eclipse! So yeah, I’ve seen one.

what are you allergic to? No allergies.

do you ever feel like people hold things you do or say against you? Only my mom does this.

what can't you afford but wish you could? Front-row Wrestlemania tickets. My childhood (and now adulthood) dream is to go to Mania 50 which is only 14 years from now, but at least I still have more than enough time to save up for it.

what is one word that sums up this year so far? Revelatory. ever felt like you were putting your life in danger? [trigger warning] Yes, it’s called suicidal tendencies. what do you like with your eggs? If scrambled, with cheese. If omelette...stuff that crap up with everything lol. Tomatoes, bell peppers, mushrooms, cheese, ham, bacon, and onions are all good in my book. what remedy do you partake when experiencing the common cold? The good ol’ wait-for-it-to-go-away life hack. would you ever spend a weekend in the mountains in a log cabin? That sounds amazing. I sure would. have you ever been called a psycho? No. have you ever taken martial arts? would you? No but I was always a little envious of my cousin who was taken to taekwondo class every weekend when we were kids. Sure, I’d take classes if I had the chance. who is someone you look up to? Nacho, but he’s gone now. is there something you're anxious about? I have work jitters for tomorrow, but they’re manageable for now. Otherwise I’m feeling pretty good. what is the longest you've gone without sleep? A little above 24. what is the longest you've been on the phone? This makes me cringe now, but it was like 8 hours long or something like that. It was still the ~honeymoon phase of that relationship and we were still clingy. We never did it again after that. do you care about calories? No. do you know someone with a really annoying laugh? Nah, can’t think of anyone. what band do you mostly always listen to no matter what mood? Paramore. have you ever been to Indianapolis? Nope.

what type of bread do you like to eat? I eat white bread all the time, but my favorite kind is brioche. do you have any great great grandparents still living? Two greats is a bit too much don’t you think? Lmao. Anyway, my last great-grandparent died in 2010. I never knew my dad’s grandparents, and my great-grandfather on my mom’s side had died all the way back in the 70s. what is one country that you really want to visit someday? India. who usually cooks or what do you usually crave the most? Those are two different questions haha. My parents take turn cooking; and as for my craving, I find myself seeking sushi most of the time. ever been associated in a program that was a complete waste of time? Yep, like that one time I had to attend this 5-hour mandatory program/seminar before my driver’s license could be issued to me; it taught me nothing I didn’t already know about driving, and it used driving tutorials that I’m pretty sure were recorded in the 90s. This seminar took place in 2016. do weird numbers call your phone? Not regularly. Occasionally an unknown number will come in, but I reject all those. where are you right now? Sitting up on my bed. do you tend to care about other people's feelings more than your own? Yes. I really shouldn’t. what type of lifestyle do you want to obtain? if you haven't obtained it [trigger warning] I haven’t even figured out yet if I love life enough to want to stay in it. A type of lifestyle isn’t much of a priority for now. what was something that use to frighten you as a child? Getting lost at the mall. have you ever been on a train? Just once. who's been in your life the longest? did you expect this person to still be around? Apart from family, Angela. Yes, she’s here for the long haul. how do you feel about anatomy? Fascinating. I’d take a class on it. Insert interesting fact here: Read this on Reddit a few days ago, so I’ll just copy-paste the whole thing: “When Jadwiga, the King of Poland (medieval Poland referred to every ruler as King regardless of gender), was considering a marriage proposal from the Grand Duke of Lithuania, a chief concern among her court was that said Duke was rumored to have massive genitals to the point that they would kill his wife on their wedding night. Two of her councilors volunteered to travel to Lithuania to try and discover the truth of these rumors, which naturally meant they would watch the Duke as he bathed. They returned and happily reported that not only weren’t the Duke’s genitals fatally large, they were in fact a tad smaller than average, so nothing to worry about. Thus Poland and Lithuania were united, and the rest is history.” Got a chuckle out of that one when I read it that I just had to scroll through the entire thread again just to be able to share it here lmao.

#survey #surveys

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locke-writes · 4 years

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I wrotecha a lil something as a bit of a pick-me-up since I thought you could use one 😶 Hope you feel better soon!!

“You’re sulking.”

A statement, and an unnecessary one if Noah had ever heard one. And, indeed, he’d heard far too many for his liking in just the past 24 hours alone. His grip on the book he held tightened, carving tiny crescents into its tender leather. It was more progress made than him actually reading (he’d read over the same paragraph at least three times now).

Against what would’ve probably been the most sensible, the young man forced a reply: “Yes. Indeed, I am … sulking.” Deep inside him was a tiny thread of hope that perhaps the terseness of his tone would be enough to end it. But the thread was vastly overshadowed by a grand tapestry of truth: Erik was never one to go silent. The world couldn’t keep him silent, how could his own pupil?

“Is that really what you intend to do this entire visit?” the Opera Ghost questioned, causing Noah to turn and face him. To his lack of surprise, Erik was not, in fact, looking back. Instead, he was busy at the organ, scribbling down whatever music was probably unfurling inside his mind. He did not at all appear bothered by Noah’s glaring, let alone deem it necessary to look up and see that he was. If he were in any better of a mood, Noah would have mused once more about the almost psychic means with which his tutor worked.

“I’m sorry,” Noah spoke coolly, “but I wasn’t aware that you of all people were able to dictate whether or not sulking was allowed.”

“Mm.” The slightest tinkling down of a quill against the ink well. “Well, far be it from me to stop you, then. Though I do request that you refrain from taking it out on my books: It’s not easy to get them down here,” came Erik’s low, husky voice. Once more, Noah found himself wishing he weren’t in such a sour mood. Normally, the simple sound of Erik talking would’ve been enough to bring him some sense of comfort – that was imply the effect of Erik’s voice. But some days, it just wasn’t enough. Some days – like today, for example – were so corrupted with the bile of shitty people and shitty circumstances that even the ethereal voice of his so-called Angel of Music were no more received than that of an actual angel’s messages to mankind.

Though, part of him was somewhat thankful that Erik didn’t intend on prying: It wasn’t out of insensitivity or a decision to just let the lad’s emotions fester, it was just Erik’s understanding that, sometimes, people didn’t wish to talk about what upset them so. Or at least, that was what Erik had assumed from his observations from afar, atop, and below; the Opera Ghost himself had never truly had the opportunity to participate and determine if it work for himself. Really, Erik’s remedies almost always equaled to one salve: Music. Surely the same might work with his own protégé, yes?

… Perhaps that was when Erik became presumptuous.

There was nothing wrong with his playing, of course: The Angel of Music was blessedly cursed to play with utmost perfection, his fingers needing to only grace the ivory keys beneath them to produce an exquisite sound. It was less like playing and more as though his fingertips were dancing.

However, this served poorly in his favor. Just this once. After all, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata wasn’t exactly the most soothing of movements.

Noah pressed his lips together. He could feel the minor key notes dragging his soul down even further.

“Erik,” he rasped, slamming the useless book into his lap. “That’s not especially helpful.” Immediately, the playing stopped.

So much for that, Erik wanted to grouse aloud. Still, he felt that he did owe the young man some sympathy. Miserable as he could be himself, it didn’t sit right with him to see his own student appearing just as morose. A sigh of acceptance rippled through him before he questioned, “Then, if you had it your way, what might you suggest I play?”

Noah remained silent. He humored the idea of actually thinking up a response, but frankly the impact of the Sonata had done a number on him. He tried to remember something joyous. Anything from past performances or even rehearsals that he might have heard. But nothing came to mind. At least, not musically.

“I … I don’t know,” he admitted, allowing his head to lull back. Given the angled wood, it was far from the most comfortable position, but he didn’t feel motivated enough to better it.

“Never mind,” he surrendered. “Just … just play what you want, I suppose …” And thus, he went silent.

To any outsider looking in (or, at the very least, anyone with any real social experience), they might have thought it cruel that Erik took the boy’s word at face value. But that was the nature of Erik: To be ever-deceptive, even without meaning to.

To Erik, Noah had signaled for him to play something kinder. Softer. Sweeter. And while more sonorous and dulcet pieces were not quite associated with the Phantom’s brand of play, it was more than well within his wheelhouse.

When Handel’s Xerxes premiered in the previous century, it had been deemed a failure. It was only relatively recently that, from its ashes, a gem was determined: “Largo” admittedly sounded somewhat somber when played on the organ (but then, nearly all songs seem to have a lingering hint of tears hidden in every note when produced by an organ). But there was also something assuring. Much like clouds drifting along a bucolic scenery, with a wisp of promise daring to tease along the horizon … Well, at least to Erik that was what it sounded of. In his own way, this was Erik offering help. And, in his innocuous arrogance, he thought he was surely doing a better job than before at it. Perhaps in the past, Noah had praised him for his intuition more than he properly deserved …

Upon glancing back at his audience, Erik found that he was wrong.

He could barely see Noah anymore, mainly because Noah himself had changed his position: From an uncomfortable position with his head lulling, to slouched over, face in his heads. Nearly fetal if not for his feet remaining planted on the ground. From what Erik could make of it, his shoulders weren’t shaking, so he wasn’t crying. But even from this view, at this distance, Erik could feel his exhaustion. It was intense enough that the young man didn’t even so much as glance up to see what had caused his mentor to cease his playing. Nor did he care to so much as peek between the fingers pressed against his eyes as he heard footsteps slowly nearing him before stopping just short of him.

If his wits were at their usual, he would have probably been able to imagine that usually stoic and collected expression of Erik’s becoming muddled with confusion and discomfort. It would’ve been amusing, really, to see such a man uncertain of what to do. But unfortunately, Noah just wasn’t in the best state to assist him.

Truthfully, Noah wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to cry, he wanted it to just be over with and yet he also wanted to just enjoy being somewhere that wasn’t up there! Even if it was dark and smelled strongly of lake and was cold –

The sudden feeling of a new fabric was startling. In fact, it was just enough to cause Noah to pick his head up just a bit. Just enough to see what was happening.

It wasn’t as though Noah had never felt Erik’s cloak before: When Noah had first been brought down to the lair, he tripped trying to get out of the boat, only to be caught in Erik’s arms. It forced him to press up against him, his face brushing against the fabric and allowing him to register Erik’s scent (a combination of roses, suspiciously expensive cologne, wood, and smoke). Since that day, he occasionally would still “trip”, but only just sparingly enough so that Erik wouldn’t suspect a thing. However, he’d felt it just enough times to know that it was made of some woolen material, and that in Erik’s limited wardrobe, it was one of the finer things he owned and took utmost care of. Probably because, during especially cold drafts, it doubled as a blanket.

But for all it was used for, Noah had to agree amongst his sorrows: Even when draped across his back, there was something about being in the cloak that made him feel … more impressive. Maybe because the owner of it was an intimidating force himself? Whatever the case, its placement truly did perplex Noah.

He looked up at Erik quizzically, only for the latter to just stare back at him. No words were spoken, but it did cause Noah to dare to imagine what Erik would say, had he known how to properly say it: “I’m trying to make you happy. I’m doing my best. Please say this is working, otherwise my next attempts will involve causing a ruckus in the opera house.”

… That last bit might have been a bit excessive, but Noah truly did believe he was close with the rest. Only he didn’t say that the cloak worked. Call him devious, but he wanted to try and see if one more thing might do. Nervously, Noah bit his lip and patted the seat beside him. It was unceremonious, but it was all he could hope to do with the way his mind was currently running.

Erik, on the other hand, appeared startled. He furrowed his brow as if to say, “Really?” Noah made no effort to say otherwise or take it back.

Erik turned his head only slightly, eyes still planted on his apprentice. “Me?” Once again, Noah said nothing to deny it.

Realistically, the image of a man feeling hesitant to sit down on furniture in his own home simply because it was occupied by a distressed lad could conjure up a few feelings. In this context, it was entertaining, given how Erik had no reason to be afraid; if anything, all the fears and hesitancies he had were conjured up in his mind. His movements were slow and calculated, as if he was prepared for Noah to reject his company at any moment. But even once his rump became planted on the cushion, no such thing happened. Instead, there was only silence. The occasional trickle of water hitting the shoreline, or a whisper of a draft running through. But other than that, nothing.

Erik didn’t have the most experience with social situations but by God, he was certain this was every person’s worst nightmare: Just sitting awkwardly in total silence while someone you care about sits next to you, not in a very good mood. He had to do something, right? After all, he’d been invited to come sit by him for a reason, yes? Surely there was … something he could do …? He racked his brain, searching through mental reference guides, trying to remember if Noah had ever mentioned things that he especially enjoyed during previous visits.

Lo and behold, one did come to mind.

… Surely there’s another, Erik insisted to himself. Realistically, there were. But of the options available, this one was all he could recall. He considered weighing the pros and cons of just sneaking upstairs and perhaps stealing a cake from somewhere or just stabbing the source of the problem when he found himself not even paying attention to his own actions. When this moment became hindsight to Erik, he still was not able to determine what had possessed him. An angel? A devil? … If it was God, why did He choose then to intervene!? Whatever the case, the deed wound up being done: His hand rested over Noah’s.

It was cold, a bit bony, and Noah wasn’t entirely certain but he suspected there were and decided not to be shocked if there were small, healed scars from the man’s various misadventures. Besides, those were small potatoes compared to the shock that even was the gesture.

“… There, there,” Erik murmured quietly. “It’s going …” Hm. Did somebody like him have the right to say that? He tried something else.

“The good thing about the future is that there’s a chance.” He deemed it appropriate to leave it at that.

A small beat of silence passed before Noah scoffed lightly. “Getting a tad profound, are we?” he joked. Normally, Erik would have scowled. The Phantom of the Opera was not one to flimflam with profundity. However, he would allow it. For now. Even the slightest hint of Noah’s usual humor was a good sign, given his track record.

“I will have you know that, given my seniority, I am one who can dictate this at least,” he tried to recover, which was a slight bit hard to do when also awkwardly attempting to offer consolation with a simple handhold. The humor of it was not lost on Noah, but exhaustion over the ordeal of all that had happened robbed him of the ability to dwell on it for too long. But acknowledgement was a start. He truly did appreciate it.

This time, the following silence was decidedly intended on both sides, allowing Erik to feel far less embarrassed about his social ineptitude. For now, this was what Noah needed: Just to be quiet together with somebody who cared. It wasn’t quite something that Erik understood himself, given his usual preference to playing music to cover up his sorrows. However, for his beloved pupil, he would gladly make an exception.

…

What he hadn’t been prepared to make an exception for, however, was when Noah finally let sleep take him. As the younger man slumped against him, face pressed against his chest, Erik remained frozen. He wondered if, perhaps, the fools running the opera above would notice if a certain employee of theirs spent a night or two elsewhere on the grounds of needing a mental health holiday.

#submission

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claytonsarah1990 · 4 years

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terrifyingstories1 · 4 years

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so tbh i’m not really a fan of lincoln/daisy and i just re-watched their scenes in 3.12 and to be fair i haven’t watched s3 in a while so i don’t really remember a lot about what led them to this point but i have to say... lincoln said a lot of things that were extremely hurtful to daisy for a number of reasons and i have .. a lot of thoughts about her apologizing to him and making up with him later on in the ep after walking off during their fight

his insistence that being inhuman is a disease

lincoln just.. has no understanding of why this is painful for her and makes no effort to and it just.. hurts me because daisy has fought so hard!!! to accept and be proud of being inhuman!!! to protect those like her who are inhuman and help them accept themselves!!! she felt like a monster after trip died and had so much guilt and was so terrified of hurting someone else and she had to CLAW herself to the place she is right now, to being able to see that being different means she can make a difference that this is her calling her contribution to the world. and it hurts her so badly that lincoln feels this way but also that he can’t see why she feels this way / make an effort to understand where she’s coming from.

it feels like her every effort to communicate is being shot down because her opinions are inherently less important than his because he has more education and knowledge than she does and as strong an individual as daisy is, as capable of she is as defending herself, you aren’t supposed to have to defend yourself to people you love. this isn’t having a debate with a stranger this is this person she deeply cares about telling her this part of herself she’s worked so hard to take pride in and value and love even when the rest of the world is calling it monstrous is a disease – and the fact is, it doesn’t matter whether or not lincoln is technically correct. that HURTS daisy and she has such a powerful reaction to that word it cuts her really deeply and is so damaging to her as a person who feels guilt so deeply and has such a deep sense of responsibility for the world. who struggles with the deaths her EXISTENCE caused when she was just a baby let alone the deaths she feels she’s responsible for now. it’s.. dangerous and could so easily set her back and put her in a really unhealthy mindset.

‘ i wasn’t hacking my way through life. ’

daisy makes the (valid imo) point that just because lincoln went to med school doesn’t mean that his opinion is automatically superior – and that using rhetoric used by hate groups even when “medically correct” is still harmful and inflammatory. it may be “medically correct” but it’s used in a way to target and perpetuate hate about her and people like her and perpetuating that mindset could lead to dangerous things befalling her people. it does come out very snide – in a quip about him having gone to med school – but to me it’s very clear how deeply upsetting this is to daisy. yes she’s passionate about what she feels and very stubborn and unwilling to compromise on what she believes is right but it’s also very clear that this is something really hurtful to her. it’s personal. it’s not just a debate about values or belief systems, it’s deeply, deeply personal. but.. more on that later because right now we’re talking about this comment

anyway so he snaps back that yes, he did go to medical school, he wasn’t hacking his way through life. as if daisy had the option of pursuing med school or a career path more meaningful than hacking, as if daisy’s activism by way of hacking was inherently meaningless and she was just.. what, being lazy? wasn’t driven enough or didn’t care enough to do something he would deem valuable? it’s completely ignorant of the fact that daisy was a homeless woman of color with no family or support system and no resources and that her still being alive today is fucking incredible, and you can see in daisy’s face how deeply that fucking cuts. she can’t even stay in the same room because of how much that hurts her and my heart breaks for her so much because god what a horrible thing to hear from not a stranger or an enemy but someone who is supposed to be one of the people that you’re closest to and can trust.

especially when i think about all of the little glimpses of daisy’s life before shield. daisy wasn’t ashamed of being a hacker or being homeless – she calls her van her house and she’s extremely protective of it and attached to it and doesn’t begin to feel ashamed of her participation in the rising tide until it means deceiving the people in shield she’s begun to care for and she begins to see that their way of going about things may not be the most moral (daisy is extremely moral and can’t follow a group or a person when she no longer has faith in their ability or desire to uphold the very principles that drew her to them in the first place, even if she feels extremely close to or attached to them and breaking away is unbearably painful.)

so lincoln’s just... thrown everything in her face and it’s so brutal and i want to cry

the resolution

i think the resolution of this conflict between them might be the most painful to me because daisy seeks lincoln out to apologize because now it feels like she was being super forceful and overreacting and emotional and asserting herself in a relationship is really difficult for her and i think this whole fight really .. triggered a lot of old feelings that daisy’s worked to overcome but are still there (because.. of course they are and even when you’re in a better place old insecurities and unhealthy mindsets don’t just evaporate you’re just better at navigating them) and those feelings are telling her to stabilize her relationship with lincoln and make sure they’re okay and that it doesn’t really matter how upset or small she feels because he’s been good to her and she doesn’t want to lose him.

so she apologies and devalues her own feelings and basically says he was right and she was overreacting and he.. lets her. he doesn’t make any effort to understand or acknowledge how what he said might have made her feel let alone apologize himself and doesn’t do anything to reassure her that how she was feeling was valid even if he didn’t/doesn’t agree. instead of being able to say.. hey i got heated too and said things i didn’t mean and may have been hurtful to you, he explains that he’s just envious of her relationship with being an inhuman and that she feels comfortable in her powers and that controlling them comes easily to her. which... is fine. lincoln is allowed to have a complicated relationship with being an inhuman because of his history and i can forgive him projecting onto her because of it because mental health is hard. but.. he doesn’t apologize for doing this and instead just kind of... misses how much work has gone into her having this relationship with her powers.

he kind of just.. implies that this is just.. easy for her and that in of itself is so.. dismissive of everything that daisy has gone through. as if she hasn’t gone through so much trauma and upheaval and getting to this place hasn’t taken everything that she has, that it isn’t still something that takes work, especially when people are calling her a disease. “whole zen thing” like... it’s not... that’s not.. it. like it’s so beautiful that daisy feels this way and that her powers feel like a part of her and something she was always supposed to have and be but it’s a disservice to her not to acknowledge how difficult that journey was for her.

which brings me to the sex. lincoln talks about not wanting to lose control and daisy just... doesn’t react to it, not emotionally. she can’t. lincoln’s said all of these things that hurt her and she should be able to address that but... it doesn’t feel like she can because when you’re a person who has gone through what daisy has gone through, who has spent her entire life searching for a family and feeling unwanted, it doesn’t feel like you can. it’s so hard to ask for things in a relationship, even if they feel very basic, even with a person who has never hurt you or made you feel small, and she doesn’t know how to do that here.

so she shifts the conversation from emotional to sexual because this is easier. it’s a lot like using humor to avoid dealing with trauma, something daisy clearly has a history of doing. it gets her out of this conversation and how she’s feeling in this moment and all of the hurt and low feelings and restores closeness between her and lincoln. it effectively remedies the conflict between them for now and allows her to be close with and connect to him again.

it avoids any further discussion of the subject or additional fights between them and lets her be close to him and focus on something else. and.. there’s nothing wrong with makeup sex, but they haven’t really made up at all. he doesn’t see her side and basically implies she feels the way she does because she, unlike him, doesn’t struggle with being inhuman and can’t understand his experiences like she hasn’t had her own unbearably painful ones. it’s a substitute for healthy communication, and just leads to daisy burying her feelings even deeper.

#re: she said her story started here #meta: daisy.#meta.#anti lincoln campbell /#anti staticquake /#i was just re-watching and got sad :(#long post for ts #emotional abuse /#abuse /#depression /#like i get that i don't make a lot of effort to understand lincoln's pov on the matter and i admit that i don't remember a lot about him but #but this is purely about how this affects DAISY #i'm not saying he's out here believing she's a monster but ...... you have to think about who daisy is and what she's been through and how #that would impact how she perceives things #and what she hears from him in these moments

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cannabisrefugee-esq · 5 years

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WWNRD? Or, What Would Nurse Ratched Do? Ft. Nurse Ratched

Cannabis Refugee, Esq. Advertising / Media / Cultural Conversation, Alternative Treatment, Capitalistic Patriarchal Medicine, Family / Friends, Marijuana / Cannabis, Other Autoimmune Diseases, Radical Feminism

October 31, 2019

Nurse Ratched was a sadistic, evil bitch at the time and would be that and a dangerously out of touch political dinosaur now. Please do not do what she would do. If anything, ask yourself WWNRD and then do the opposite.

Speaking with my mother recently made me sympathize with young smartasses and activists who are just waiting for the elder generation — the out of touch Baby Boomers and the Baby Boomers’ parents and kids by this point — to give up the ghost and die. A “dinosaur” or political dinosaur is someone whose philosophy and worldview are obsolete and rooted in problematic values and circumstances of the distant past. For example, as a young activist in my teens and 20s I remember thinking and saying that the world would be a better place once those who grew up with unregulated environmental pollution and legal institutionalized racism, sexism etc. died off because their environmental unconcern, racism and sexism were so entrenched that they either didn’t realize, agree or care what they were doing and being was wrong.

Welp. After being sick my entire fucking life with an undiagnosed autoimmune disease, and going on 8 years with a diagnosed one, I am having these same thoughts now about the older generation of Western medical practitioners and others who were born, grew up and/or progenated in a low-population, relatively unpolluted pre-nuclear world where lifelong serious, untreatable, incurable and progressive disease existed only in very small numbers and therefore where older people seem to believe and act as if chronic illness did not and does not exist at all.

To be clear, chronic illness obviously did exist in our recent and distant past, for example, natural uranium deposits are known to cause acute and chronic radiation sickness to those who spend time around it. And humans have likely always been struck down with genetic and congenital maladies that might not have outright killed them. But old/er people seem to have lived their entire lives without chronic illness, including autoimmune and immune-mediated disease, front and center in their consciousness or as a part of their lived experience and this does make sense: before, say, the 1940s and 50s the worst industrial (man-made ionizing nuclear) pollutants had yet to be widely dispersed and contemporary Western medicine did not, because it could not, routinely pluck seriously ill and/or nonviable neonates, infants and others from the brink of merciful, natural deaths. Today, seriously ill children and others are rather forced to live for years, decades and lifetimes with serious illnesses that do not outright kill them, because Western medicine will not allow it, but which Western medicine has yet to figure out how to treat, relieve, or cure.

Having researched chronic illness, primarily autoimmune and immune-mediated disease for going on 8 years now, it seems to me that, in stark contrast to the life experience and worldview of older people, young people today generally are very aware that incurable and progressive chronic illness exists. Over and over I see that young people today, at least young Western people, well understand and accept the reality of chronic illness much more freely than older people, and the implications of that are extremely dark. From what I can discern, this difference in worldview likely exists because young people are increasingly becoming seriously chronically ill themselves. Young people understand and accept the material reality of chronic illness because experiencing it personally as individuals and in their peer group they have no choice but to accept it.

And over and over I see that older people are generally ignorant about issues of chronic illness and that they have not experienced it either individually or in their peer group. Frighteningly, instead of recognizing their blessed ignorance and trying to remedy it, older people think that their personal opinion based on outdated and second- and third-hand pseudo-knowledge about chronic illness matters or affects the outcome. It doesn’t, but unfortunately many medical professionals, healthcare policymakers, paid and unpaid caretakers and the like embrace an outdated worldview that no longer applies in our post-nuclear, Western world, and thus do not or cannot fully believe the self-reports of, or even contemporary peer-reviewed medical research addressing, the experiences and needs of seriously chronically ill.

A few weeks ago, a day and a half into a migraine (I’m getting 4 day migraines now, yay!) I panicked over my migraine-related inability to work on my small business, pursue benefits, or do virtually anything as I was completely and totally incapacitated. In what I can only describe as a misguided and ultimately futile cry for help, bedridden, I called my mother to update her about the situation, whereupon she made some statements of position that were so ignorant they verily shocked me. Laying in the dark with a sleep mask over my eyes, and a puke bucket near my bed, what I heard uttered from my mother’s lips was so egregiously out of touch with accepted thinking that it frankly terrified me.

Attempting to explain to her how and why she was wrong exhausted me. Knowing that she was moved not an inch by my description of my plight — instead smugly maintaining her “position” throughout as if she were engaging in a political debate rather than considering an emergency communique — enraged me.

For example, when I told my mom that I had a new diagnosis of High Functioning Autism, or HFA, she seemed unsurprised but said I wasn’t autistic as a child because I was always “bright.” Okay. In her mind, my HFA-consistent and completely obvious lifelong deficits in executive function — think literal and figurative “housekeeping” — and social competency (including feminine roleplaying which also includes both literal and figurative housekeeping, fuck me sideways) had nothing to do with autism and instead were just me being a lifelong asshole, lazy, and a bitch. She always believed that about me and she never hesitated to tell me about it. But at least I was bright. But now, because I’m no longer a practicing attorney and a “success” and instead am struggling to maintain any quality of life as a seriously ill person with limitations, and I can’t maintain an illusion of physical health anymore if I ever could, I’m a lifelong lazy asshole bitch and a freshly minted unbright/retard on top of it. Also, there is apparently such a thing as adult-onset autism. Because she says so.

Of course, my mother’s opinion about HFA is irrelevant and obsolete where HFA-literate people today know that high-functioning autism — the bright, non-retarded kind — is a bona fide thing, that particularly HFA females are often not diagnosed until late/r in life, and that “brightness” or intelligence is often a symptom/feature of HFA and not the antithesis of it. Autistic Tumblr — or any young autism or chronic illness related social media site — would tear that political dinosaur a new egg-hole if she dared say something so ignorant patently false about autistics on that platform. And so they probably should if they wanted to expend the energy and if they thought it would help.

Yes, I recently discovered the dark corner of the internet known as Autistic Tumblr: young people creating content, commentary and community from the shared perspective and lived experience that autism and autism spectrum disorders (ASD) including HFA is real and has real, material effects on people’s lives. Often, those effects have nothing to do with being low-functioning, or unbright. Which is not to say that I find Autistic or Chronic Illness Tumblr a particularly sane or comforting place to be. As I recently learned myself, Autistic Tumblr is an upsetting, dystopian place where young autistics put great effort into and emphasis on “normalizing” and “validating” terrible things that rightfully should never exist at all: autistic and chronic illness related things like melting down, stimming and managing chronic fatigue, chronic pain, chronic gut issues and the like, because although most of them are much younger than me, due to their autism and (likely) related physical and mental issues they are extremely ill and can barely get through their day.

In fact, upon hearing and considering these self-reports, one might even speculate that physical and mental pain is what likely drives autistics’ trademark weird, antisocial and self-absorbed behavior, where they are in fact “bright” enough to communicate online at the very least (and often have work, school and social commitments) but are exhausted from insomnia, chronic pain and ME/CFS; anorexic because they can’t eat anything; are having infantile hand-flapping meltdowns in public or breaking into inopportune episodes of “stimming” behavior to soothe themselves and they can’t deal with people giving them the side-eye at school and work on top of it. Autistic young people are living in hell, utter hell, judging from their self-reports. Considering that vast and increasing numbers of young people are autistic, it seems likely that extreme physical and mental distress is normal for many young people now. Young people much more than old people seem to know this. People who care to put in a modicum of research know this.

To further illustrate, when I was attempting to describe my current limitations to my mother she completely dismissed me and said that when it comes to disability, one is either totally disabled or not disabled at all. Lest I misunderstand what she meant by that, she spontaneously clarified her statement to mean that if I have limitations I should be in a “home” and if I don’t need to be in a “home” then there is no reason I can’t act as if I’m not disabled at all. In other words, despite being demonstrably, seriously ill, I “should” be able to act/function as if I’m perfectly fine. Because she says so.

Of course, as I understand it, invalid “homes” are largely a thing of the past, at least in this country, having literally gone the way of the dinosaur. And many sick and injured people are, in fact, demonstrably partially disabled, where they are able to perform some activities of daily living and perhaps some higher level activities like bookkeeping and such but not all; accessing “services” to help partially and even very disabled people to live as independently as possible — and not institutionalized — is the way it works now. Partially disabled does not equal totally disabled, you sadistic Nurse Ratched, you decrepit fossil, nor does partially disabled mean not disabled at all. She then proceeded to disagree with me — and contemporary peer reviewed medical research corroborating thousands of years of human history and shared experience — that cannabis is an effective anti-inflammatory and is particularly useful in inflammatory bowel disease including Crohn’s. According to her, and based on nothing, pot isn’t an effective or necessary medicine for any condition, and it’s “merely” an effective pain reliever (!) and therefore is not actually medicine at all. Because she said so.

This ignorant, sadistic ideological fossil maintains her nursing license and continues to “care for” actual patients including sick infants and children. Whatever “caring” means to her, and people like her: assholes who rely on frighteningly outdated material on which to form and support their opinions on contemporary medical and social issues, including contemporary chronic illness that for whatever reason is increasing in incidence and prevalence. And particularly in our post-nuclear, radioactively contaminated environment, including the toxic, autoimmune uterine environment in which many of us spend our first 3/4 of a year and which is known to cause autism. While information on Crohn’s, HFA, medical marijuana etc. is easily Googleable, and appears to be widely known by young people, apparently my 67 year old nurse mother is waiting for the news to break via Teletype or otherwise didn’t get the memo.

Of course, if I was a partially disabled man and had a wife (or mother) to perform all my executive function tasks (including bookkeeping services for my small business) for me, no one would even notice I was disabled. If I were male instead of female perhaps my life wouldn’t be falling apart at all, and certainly the prospect of committing me to a nonexistent/extinct 1940s era invalid home because I can’t wait in line or consistently do my business and personal taxes anymore would have never been raised at all.

Comments Open.

#marriage #female labor #nurse ratched #autism #being autistic #disability #medical #medicine #420 #me/cfs #gen z #millenials #baby boomer bullshit

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first-time-mom-and-college · 5 years

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Overwhelmed and Annoyed

So, update on everything. I am jumping through a ton of hoops to try and fix my residency at my school. I have to get a new license and have to jump through multiple different hoops for that. I am trying to get a job to help cover our expenses. Our son is probably going to start daycare in the next couple of weeks, and honestly, I’m not sure I am ready. Finally, i learned tonight that my boyfriend and his parents were keeping something from me regarding our son.

The hoops for school residency are tied to me having a license from a different state. To remedy that, I am trying to get a license in this state. Because I have a foreign birth certificate, I am having to jump through hoops that may result in me having to prove that I am a citizen. With the way the country is going, I am a little worried about not having technical citizen papers will cause me to be deported to a country that I haven’t been too since I was adopted. But all of this is what is overwhelming me, and I don’t really know where to begin this process.

However, when it comes to the new obstacles or challenges that comes with being a first time mom, I feel very sad and annoyed. I’m sad because even though there are rough days with my son [like today], I still am not ready to not get to spend so much time with him. I mean, he is just about three months old, and even though I don’t start school for another month, I have to put him daycare as soon as possible to secure his spot. Those are days that I could be savoring that I’m giving up to insure that he will have a spot in daycare when I really need it.

I am very annoyed and hurt by my boyfriend and his parents right now. He told me tonight that his parents have given my son some mashed potatoes when they were watching him. They had asked my boyfriend not to tell me because they were worried that I was going to freak out. However, right now, I’m just upset.

I don’t understand how they can justify keeping something like that from me. There are just so many reasons why this is disrespectful to me.

First, I had told them specifically that I didn’t want to introduce real foods until he was a little older [even if my son is built like he is closer to 4 months old].

Secondly, they went against how I was choosing to raise my son.

Third, they didn’t tell me about it when they did this.

Finally, they asked their son to keep this from me, and he did for the last few weeks.

How could they do this to me? They have known me for years, and if they knew me as well as I thought they did, they would have known that hiding it from me does far more damage than just being honest with me.

I just feel like I was robbed of seeing my baby experience his first food. I know it wasn’t a lot, but it is one of those things that I was looking forward too. I also feel like they disrespected me, and didn’t take me seriously as my role as my son’s mother.

I understand that they have raised children before, and that giving my son a taste of solid foods probably wouldn’t hurt him. But, I am a first time mom. I should be able to try things myself and try to learn for myself before someone tries to fix it for me. I know how to ask for help when I have tried everything else, or simply don’t have any idea. But this small decision has really affected how I see them and our relationship.

I have tried my best to not be the helicopter parent, and, honestly, my boyfriend can be worse than I am. Out of all the grandparents in my son’s life, they are the ones I trust the most with him.

Now, I don’t feel like I can trust them in the same way. I wonder if they would tell me if they gave him anything else, like medicine. I feel like they are going to judge me on any other decisions, and if it is something they deem unnecessary and excessive, are they going to follow through with it? My boyfriend and I use an app that tracks our sons feedings, diaper changes, and naps throughout the day. It helps me know when something is off, but I haven never asked them to do the same thing. Especially since they found out we did that and laughed at us.

These are the same parents that always joke that they can’t wait to give our child ice cream and hype him up and send him home to us. They complained when their parents did that with their son, so they are going to do the same thing with our son as payback. I think it’s twisted. I don’t understand why they don’t consider just giving us the respect they didn’t receive from their parents and break this endless cycle of payback for spoiling the grandkids.

#first time mom #grandparents #frustration

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businessarticlesclone · 3 years

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9 Ways-Counseling Can Improve Your Lifestyle

There is a reliable shift towards expanded assertion in discussing singular challenges and mental success. How adequately does it feel to go to counseling, regardless? Possibly you may have quite recently gone to arrange – as I did - when dazed and despairingly sitting in profundities of the hopeless extraordinary, feeling stuck.

My first fiddle with counseling Dubai was at school. I was lurched by impressions of nervousness and flaw that were all-assaulting in my underlying term. Inside, I was tortured with self-weakness and deficiencies, feeling like a distortion in this scholastic world. This first experience of counseling was an ordinary square of multi-week-by-week social occasions giving an illustration of what may come later. Notwithstanding my limp energy for this underlying treatment, my long for self-disclosure had been wetted, as my inclinations had been fixed on and taken phenomenal for a long time.

A couple of years subsequently, before long I had an expert instruction and some going behind me, I had expected to have 'myself' and revealed any covering abominable presences. However much these encounters were huge, they hadn't changed my energetic flourishing. I hesitantly comprehended that I expected to look inwards to recuperate, so looking again to counseling that continued for close to a year.

This time, it's anything but an openness to talk unmistakably. My late young years had been a battle at home and now I could voice this securely without judgment. I progressively developed somewhat more empathy toward my more youthful self and energy for why I was changing as I was, while heretofore, I had been emphatically self-fundamental. I saw that I had lost my voice by some coincidence and how the assessments of others had become a reference point of certainty. I started to look at my voice once more.

Where may I be on the off chance that I hadn't had counseling? Ily conjecturing, in any case, I figure I would have kept being staggeringly self-suspicious of myself very much like others, and thusly touchy and crazy in my living. Counseling assisted me with dropping down and develop more crucial care and sympathy. It has prevented me from accidentally rehashing a touch of the model so positively ingrained in early life. I have given up old sharpness and disappointments.

Always tries to choose the best psychiatrist in Dubai or the best psychologist in Dubai. Choosing the best can help your child more to build his best behavior.

9 Extraordinary Ways Counseling Can Improve Your Lifestyle

Care has a colossal impact

Without it, you can be in an overpowered dimness of living. Making care awards you to peer down on your reality and become a bystander. You start to figure out things, as such bringing a vibe of clearness and insight. This spots you in a beginning spot to think about the change.

You will see your experiences and start to manage them

With at any rate 60,000 examinations and different troubling ones going through your head each day, you can perceive how your contemplations can shape your standpoint and life. Exactly when you start to see 'the bigmouth' indiscreetly chattering away to you, you are suddenly more responsible for your reasoning.

You will live more by then

In case you have anxiety or distress, you may contribute a reasonable game-plan of energy either fixating on the future or grieving the past. Counseling can help you live more carefully in the present and to feel more peaceful and identified with the world.

You will comprehend why you do things that don't look good

Possibly you precipice or self-mischievousness or drink too a ton. Perhaps you are bewildered or embarrassed by your direction and can't fight the temptation to consider why you can't 'simply stop'. Counseling gives a protected spot to investigate your weakness and fears about change.

You will start to respect yourself

Perhaps you have gotten capable of satisfying others. Counseling can assist you with seeing the benefit of showing yourself genuine thoughts and compassion.

You will start to sort out the past

Also, see what it has meant for the individual you are today. There can be uncommon worth acquired incomprehension of the past and what it has meant for your life experience. Old injuries can be fixed and inconvenient encounters worked through.

Your affiliations can wind up being more basic

In counseling, you may come to see the value in the affiliations which are crucial for you and warrant further undertaking. You may comparably choose to make a stride back from affiliations that are harmful or upsetting you're prospering. The remedial relationship of counseling offers an arrangement field for affiliations.

You will get bolder and less worrisome

The world may have gotten a shocking and subverting spot. You may have genuine protections or encounters that embrace this perspective. Counseling can keep up you in recuperating from these hazardous encounters, so they have less effect. You can start to make your got region through the world misusing your elation and satisfaction.

Regarding yourself similar too into others

Inside satisfaction can be discovered when you feel that you can be 'you'. As you permit attestation from your advertiser for your flawed and defective self, this can be a marvelously dazzling, modifying, and euphoric experience.

Choose the Good Psychiatrist Dubai or the best psychiatrist in Dubai. Choosing the best can help you and your children more to build their best behavior.

#Good Psychiatrist Dubai #Psychiatrist In Dubai #Psychologist In Dubai #Counselling Dubai #best psychiatrist in dubai

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publichealthcare99 · 3 years

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Covid Tinnitus Treatment

New Post has been published on https://thebestsolution4u.com/covid-tinnitus-treatment/

Covid Tinnitus Treatment

Covid Tinnitus Treatment – How to Treat Tinnitus if you get it after Covid or the Covid Vaccine

Everyone today i’ve got joey remini she’s a vestibular audiologist and neuroplasticity specialist and i’ve got her here today to talk about how some people are experiencing tinnitus symptoms that have come on after having having had covered or having gotten a vaccine.

This video is sponsored by new a health and wellness program that focuses on teaching you the psychology behind building healthy habits now what i love about new is that unlike diets that focus on good and bad foods and counting calories instead focuses on teaching you the why behind your behaviors and then how to create new healthy sustainable habits that stick teaches you how to listen to your body’s hunger and fullness cues.

How to change your mindset and how to work through stress without emotional eating now this is really important because a diet is a set up for failure they just don’t work in the long run so instead new focuses on helping you change your relationship with food so that you can find peace and lasting change and it’s research backed the university of sydney’s medical center ranked number one out of 800 programs evaluated as being the most effective program is offering a one week trial for you.

Today if you sign up using the link in the description it only takes five to ten minutes to see lasting results so go ahead give it a try click out the link below to take your health survey and start your custom program today some people are experiencing tinnitus symptoms that have come on after having um having had coveted or having gotten a vaccine is that something you’re seeing a lot of yeah i’m hearing i’m getting people calling in they’re distressed they’re freaking out they’re like no one can explain this and i have these distressing tinnitus sounds in my ears in my body and it’s after getting covered or after getting the covered vaccine so yes we are seeing this.

Read more: What does tinnitus sound like? (tinnitus noises)

It’s it’s i mean the moral of this video is to say it’s nothing to be distressed about it is a change to your body and when we experience any virus or any vaccine our immune system is responding there are changes within our biological system and any change within our biology changes the way our body produces sound and these are healthy sounds healthy body sounds.

Which usually we just phase out and filter out and tune out because they’re not important to us and the number one way tinnitus starts so tinnitus is the sounds in the ears or the head that nobody else can hear they’re internal sounds they’re private it usually starts with a head cold you know a nasal cold or an you know some kind of sinus infection or people get their ears syringed out by the doctor.

There’s you know changing uncomfortable sensations and sounds around the ears and then they kind of focus there and then they check in there and then they monitor there and then for the next week they’re like is it still there is it still there so there’s um even some people get tinnitus just when a friend talks about it they’re like.

Oh okay i’ve never noticed sounds in my ears and then they start going do i have it so it’s like this shift in awareness of background sound that’s actually always been there and it’s healthy that can then shift from being in no man’s land in the back of our brain where we don’t notice it so it essentially doesn’t exist and then it shifts through our attention filters and suddenly it’s like right there so it could be pinging it could be popping it could be clicking it could be squishing it could be static roaring like there’s it’s all normal whatever you hear is your inner body sound and so for people who have experienced covert.

They’ve had these huge changes to their biology their immune systems working overtime their vital organs are working more strongly and if you think about any mechanical system whether it’s a car a dishwasher a washing machine anything there’s sound that is produced through that mechanical process through moving parts and the biological mechanisms also have lots of moving parts lots of fluid moving.

You know there’s joints and bones and but at a micro level there’s lots of neurological movements and our immune system is sending immune messages up and down the body working really hard to keep us safe and help us heal a byproduct of that is an increased amount of sound.

Covid Tinnitus Treatment

If you add on to that just regular normal immune response an intense attention to the sound a distrust of the sound a dislike of the sound a confusion of the sound and a feeling of i’m abnormal i shouldn’t hear this nobody can explain it to me i didn’t hear this last week why am i suddenly hearing it.

Now i didn’t have this when i was a little girl why am i hearing it now this must be a sign covered’s getting worse this must be a sign i’m a weak person or i’m sick or something so all of these questions are a unhelpful and b inaccurate your body sound is normal it’s okay to hear tinnitus after covert it’s okay to hear tinnitus after a covered vaccine so the best thing to do about it would be a get educational montana to citizen i would probably say read read my book.

I just wrote for that very reason there’s not many reliable resources out there for tinnitus and that’s why i wrote this book rocksteady you can learn about your anatomy you can learn about your brain you can learn about how the neurons communicate to the brain and what you can do to actually rewire the mapping of your neurons change what your body’s hearing and sensing change what your body’s feeling and you can adapt to a completely new normal what does that mean it’s reversible you might have tinnitus today that doesn’t mean.

You’ll have it for a week or a year or a month you can change your brain and you can change the way those sounds manifest and the way those sounds perpetuate the worst thing we can do is worry about it talk about it focus on it try and get rid of it right so start with education learn about it learn to not be afraid of it and if you feel like you want to use neuroplasticity to develop a new normal and go back to a new sense of peace calm confidence and ease in your body you can simply do that by having a daily practice that teaches how to remap your body how to remap your brain.

You’re in control of the process and neuroplasticity is like any skill that you can learn so a lot of people for a lot of people this is the first time they’re really noticing their tinnitus or the first time they’re really experiencing it and it makes them wonder what’s the matter with me and then the more they focus on it the worse it feels and they get stuck in this cycle of it just getting maybe perhaps feeling worse or not going away and then feeling more upset about it so most people have been given zero education about what to do about tinnitus.

They just don’t know that there are practical skills they can use to learn to heal from tinnitus and and to be honest that includes doctors and even audiologists a lot of health professionals have not chosen to specialize in tinnitus and what it is and what to do about it so because that hasn’t been their kind of educational choice they’re like oh well you know there’s nothing you can do live with it because that’s for them that’s their reality but that’s the only skills they know that’s the only skills they’re aware of correct well.

Read more: All-natural Remedies for Ringing In The Ears

I was going to say in order to overwrite so surrender and acceptance is kind of like one step that may not that may not be everything to completely overcome the tinnitus right but it’s super important the next step would be saying well what i i don’t want to feel and hear the tinnitus all day long i need something else to focus on are you.

I say to people with obsessive-compulsive disorder use that as a as a skill that benefits you get obsessive about feeling calm get obsessive about feeling at ease and connected and peace in your body and focus on that every day and every moment of the day and obsess over that so that’s what your brain actually puts more energy and more neural patterning and neural firing into yeah because otherwise we can become obsessive over our symptoms and things.

We hate and things we don’t like and we end up perpetuating what we don’t want right so we want to shift our focus obsessively into how can i get into my body this feeling of calm and confidence in ease so right so we shift out of the head into the body and then the neuroplasticity um therapy really begins to take place and we automate a new normal and before you know it you’ll forget you ever had tinnitus.

You won’t ever think about it again and you’ll create a completely new normal and you’ll feel back in your body and you’ll feel good again so we can change the brain by using these um neuroplasticity techniques which actually you design so it’s a very personal process yeah and that’s such an uplifting message because we like each person has an innate ability to heal and experiencing a new symptom or a new um sensation like tinnitus can be really alarming.

But what you’re describing is basically this experience of a new sensation of tinnitus can be a pathway to learn a bunch of new skills that can heal your relationship with yourself and with your other sensations as well and yeah and there are some really practical skills that you know you have free resources for in your website and in your book simple things that can people could even practice in probably what if they did 15 minutes a day of a body scan would that be helpful that would be plenty.

I often recommend start with so five minutes of your chosen neuroplasticity exercises three times a day is like a nice kind of beginner’s way to just dive into the process if you’re really new to this but i’ve had i’ve had chronic tinnitus obviously a lot of my clients have that come and see me and they not only overcome and heal the tinnitus they they get better knowledge of themselves and more loving kindness and respect towards themselves their entire relationship to life changes.

So i feel like neuroplasticity forces us into non-judgment self-compassion self-kindness acceptance surrender and really allowing life to flow in the direction that we choose we take back so much control by letting go it’s like it is paradoxical well that’s that’s awesome and i think that gives a lot of hope to people who are experiencing these these sensations um maybe for the first time or noticing them for the first time though some really practical steps are things.

I get you know educated from a good source where um like your book or other resources that offer some hope that don’t just tell you you know this is uh there’s nothing you can do about it because they don’t know what there is to do about it and then learn to practice some practical skills they sound impossible but skills of acceptance and surrender learning to uh get into your body with the body scan practicing loving kindness and then some of these other neuroplasticity exercises these can all help with this process of resolving those.

Uh you know the discomfort around tinnitus yeah and i know on emma’s channel and on my youtube channel there are more free discussions about tinnitus what to do about it how to overcome it so just immerse yourself in some of this proactive conversation so that you don’t feel powerless helpless hopeless it doesn’t matter if you got tinnitus from covert or from the vaccine the cause doesn’t matter the process of healing is exactly the same as anybody else with tinnitus.

i have seen time and time again regardless of diagnosis people overcome it by changing their brains and changing their relationship to themselves it’s always coming back to that neural signal that needs to be changed that we’re in control of this is the exciting piece we’re in control of how we relate to the sound we’re hearing and that’s how we change the long term firing patterns of the sound signal we can diminish them just like having a remote control and turning the volume down.

We can learn how to do that on the inside using our neural patterning and neural maps so it’s very practical it’s very methodical it’s not a miracle and anybody can do it from home awesome that is so great so helpful for us thank you so much for sharing those resources.

I will definitely put the link in the description to your book and to the uh other resources you have on your website so thank you so much joey thanks for being here it’s my absolute pleasure thanks again to noom for sponsoring this video thank you for watching and take care.

Read more: Silencil Natural Remedies For Tinnitus

#coronavirus tinnitus #covid tinnitus #Covid Tinnitus Treatment #covid vaccine covid #covid vaccine tinnitus #covid vaccine tinnitus side effects #pfizer vaccine covid tinnitus #tinnitus after covid #tinnitus coronavirus symptom #tinnitus cure #tinnitus relief #tinnitus therapy #Tinnitus Treatment #vaccine tinnitus

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canaryatlaw · 6 years

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anyway. today, for a day where I didn’t leave my apartment, was about as good as they can get. I woke up at 12:14 pm (my late alarm was set for 1 pm), and I had cookies for breakfast because I mean they have oats and raisins in them they’re basically healthy. I didn't want to start studying secured transactions because secured transactions sucks, so I went back to making remedies flash cards to get through the rest of the outline I’ve been using. After a while of doing that, I wanted to get my stuff ready for the interview, so I spent a while doing that, and then I was combing through the emails trying to find an address and I was like FUCK I don’t know where I’m going so I emailed them and they were like “oh no sorry it’s just a phone interview” to which I was just like OH okay good that makes my life that much easier, I can be in my pajamas and have my laptop in front of me with information about the job in front of me in case I need to access it. So I was not upset about this development. I went back to doing remedies flashcards until the interview time, and sometime in there I got an email from my legal drafting professor with my graded final assignment attached. And I was just like, okay, deep breaths, don’t be upset you can handle this whatever it is it’s just gonna be and it’ll be fine. so I open it, and I’m looking at the point breakdown and seeing that I got all the points on most of them, and then I scroll to the bottom and see a 47 (out of 50) and I was legit like, wait, was this assignment actually out of 100?? because I couldn’t believe I did that well after an entire semester of getting like, half of the points on assignments. but here it is, in front of me, complete with comments from my professor talking about how great it was. my last assignment was 10 out of 20, and this one was 47 out of 50. guys, I was so overwhelmed I actually started crying. The feeling of relief was so immense. I was literally preparing myself not to get upset about getting a bad grade on an assignment that I poured my heart and soul into because this is the work I want to do, but I’d been doing so badly on the assignment I just had no faith that there was going to be anything good. I was telling myself that if I end up with one C on my transcript it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, even if it knocked down my GPA and class rank (which we all know I’m very protective of). I was so ready for it to be bad, but then it was good. so good, like, best grade I’ve ever gotten on a legal writing assignment ever. I felt so vindicated. I was beginning to doubt myself over my bad grades in this case. I was beginning to think that maybe I wasn’t a good writer after all, that motion that my supervisor thought was excellent was just a fluke, maybe I just suck at all of this. But I worked really hard on this assignment. I spent hours pouring through cases trying to find the right ones to use, and I found them, I found the best arguments, and I knew it was great but I still felt like it wouldn't get a good grade. but it did, and honestly, I was just so happy that it happened. So I took a while just being happy about that haha which was definitely justified. Got ready for the phone interview though, and sure enough at 4:30 I got the phone call. I had been poking around their website earlier in the day, and I found out the lady who was doing the interview is actually an alum of my law school, and my school is super big on alumni hiring newly graduated students and bringing them into the fold, so that was definitely good news. So I answered the call and I started talking, she was telling me about the company, basically they help other companies follow legal regulations they have to follow by apply technology to make the systems better, and basically this would be applying legal analysis skills to data and text and bringing out the ways to best comply with regulations, so that all seems cool and interesting. I definitely owned up to not knowing all that much about the field but I was ready to learn, and they were like that’s really fine we know a lot of people aren’t going to have experience and we’re just looking for someone who's willing to learn, and I was like okay perfect, because that made it seem like they’re actually considering hiring me (lol) because I kind of thought they were gonna do a preliminary interview and be like okay yeah she doesn’t know what she’s doing we can’t hire her 😂 but apparently not! Interviews always get me though, because when they have questions like “tell me about a time you worked on a team” or questions like that about stuff I’ve done in the past I’m like, entirely unable to think of any examples, and because my brain is so good at bs-ing, I end up coming out with these almost totally fabricated stories haha like it’ll be roughly based on something that happened just with completely changed circumstances to fit whatever the question was, and I hate doing it but it just happens when I can’t think of anything! And not gonna lie, my bs stories are pretty good. I told a totally fabricated version of taking charge of my legal writing team project first year (the one that was a total dumpsterfire, but that’s okay), I talked about hanging out with my sister when she was younger and trying to balance how much of a parent I was to her and how much responsibility I had with my parents when they would be like “it’s too late why didn’t you put her to bed” and I was like “because it’s not my job??” which did more or less actually happen, just not quite in the way described. She did ask what I’ve done that I was most proud of, and really all I could think of was forming the TWLOHA UChapter my senior year of undergrad so I talked about that and she sounded like, really impressed and touched by the answer haha. when she asked about what my weakness are I was basically like “well if I’m doing something that’s not engaging my brain it can be hard for me to stay interested in it” and she was like “wow, that’s probably the best answer to that question I’ve ever heard, because everyone always tries to turn it into a strength and I really appreciate that you didn’t do that” haha so there were lots of brownie points being scored all around, so that was good. We set up a *tentative* second phone interview for Monday, saying she’d send final say about it later today, so I took that as a good sign for sure haha. I just felt like everything went really well with it. It was funny at the end when she started talking about salary and was like “we really can only start you at $45K, and that’s not negotiable, so if that’s a dealbreaker for you then now would be to say it” and I was like 😂😂😂😂 honestly my salary expectations are basically “you pay me” because I’ve been working my ass off for so long with no compensation, so I will happily take whatever amount of money they will give me. And it’s not like that’s even an absurdly low number?? it’s pretty much par for the course in most public interest law jobs so I was cool with that, I guess with some areas of law that have six figure starting salaries there would be an expectation of there to be more but like, really, that’s not something that’s really going to be a dealbreaker for me. So yeah, it all went well and a little while later I got an email confirming the second interview for Monday, so this is all very good! It’s funny, because I’ve made more progress towards an Illinois based job in the past few days than I’ve had in literally months of sending out applications everywhere and not getting any response, but now I’m here with two very solid job prospects. The New York job is still going to be the first choice because it is what I *actually* want to do, but if that doesn’t work out I’m glad to have solid prospects that I wouldn’t totally hate. So yeah, all good stuff. For a while after getting off the phone I looked through the remedies flashcards for errors and reading over them, I’m not very concerned about this class despite the fact that I was way more interested in my twitter feed while legends was on than actually paying attention, because it’s really just a mix of contracts and torts and I already know those pretty well and I can cram the rest in, so I’m not concerned really because it’s stuff I already understand the concepts of, not like secured transactions that might as well be in another language. Then I only have civil rights, which I’m really not concerned about, but I will have to put some effort into prepping because it’s open book, so I’ll need to make an outline for it and read through all my case briefs because there were some cases I never actually read (whoops, blame senioritis) so I’ll know what cases to go to after reading a fact pattern, but that shouldn’t be too hard. I worked until a little after 7 before finishing up, made some dinner and got ready to watch Arrow. It was interesting, because I had literally no interest in the main plot with Oliver and Anatoly and Diaz, but I really liked the stuff with Quentin and black siren, along with the NTA stuff so like, everything except the main character 😂😂 but I mean the writers did that to themselves really. Katie Cassidy’s acting has really just been knocking it out of the park, her complexity in how you can see Black Siren having warring emotions is so well done, like honestly she deserves a fucking Emmy for this part. It’s so obvious that she is in it deep as far as caring about Quentin goes, and she knows it too, and when they had the scene at the end when Quentin talks about losing his Laurel and sometimes doing bad things for good reasons I basically died, they’re so fucking pure and I just love it so much and if they kill Quentin in the finale and just bring Sara in for his funeral I’m gonna be so fucking mad at them. I liked the NTA stuff too, they had some pretty awesome scenes, blowing up that truck with the drugs in it was pretty epic, so props to them for actually dealing with the problems right now, lol. I have to complain about the scene at the end though where Oliver gets “arrested” because like......it’s not like he was a fugitive they were trying to hunt down, they couldn’t done that at literally any point?? and then Diaz was like “don’t even think about bail” when he was already fucking out on bail and that comment makes zero sense???? then the tv was like “he was arrested for violating his bail” which is just like.....how exactly did he do that?? what are you even saying that he did to justify this?? and you suddenly care about bail conditions when you clearly didn’t when Oliver went out of state for Barry and Iris’ wedding (not leaving the state is a pretty basic bail condition legit everywhere in the US)??? So I had a lot of issues with that like, 30 seconds of a scene, so just IMAGINE how fun I’m going to be next week when there’s an entire trial for me to complain about and protest that they’re fucking it up?????? And yes, I am going to be insufferable the entire damn time because that’s who I am and I’m not giving that up, dammit. So I will be pointing out every single inaccuracy in the entire damn episode. I will say though, based on the preview, the appearance of Tommy potentially would be a game changer that could definitely help me feel better about the episode as a whole. So yeah, we’ll have to see how that goes. Didn’t have anything else to watch so I went back to Game of Thrones. I would probably find it more interesting if I had any idea who half of these characters are and how they play into the overall plot, and believe me I’m trying, but there are just people popping up left and right and I have no clue who they are. Also, I’m not really a fan of all the sex/nudity and gore in all of it, like it’s really graphic and like, that’s just not something I enjoy seeing, and constantly seeing people half naked or wholly naked just feels uncomfortable to me, so 🤷🏻‍♀️ I of course do enjoy other aspects of the show though and will probably keep watching for the time being, anyway. I witnessed the arrival of Brienne of Trath who was pretty damn bad ass, so I definitely appreciate her and I feel like I will do so for quite some time. When that episode was over I watched the news a bit before starting to get ready for bed. I should probably mention that somewhere in here I stumbled upon the video of a performance of one of the songs from the new Mean Girls musical on one of the late shows, and holy fuck man, I am obsessed with this song. I’ve literally had it on repeat all fucking day, lol. It’s called “I’d Rather Be Me” (and as you can see I changed my header on here to it already) and you can get it on iTunes and it’s basically the best thing I’ve ever heard, so I highly recommend that. And yeah, that about wraps up today. I know I said I was in a shitty mood earlier but I am feeling someone better after writing this post, so that’s good. Tomorrow I have PT at 2:30 but nothing else really, so it’ll probably just be more studying like I should be doing, good stuff. Alright, it’s past 1 am so I should be getting to bed now. Goodnight sweeties. Have a good one.

#daily journal #April 2018 #it's been April forever

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