be the best at doing it

i always dismissed theories about how our menstrual cycles have any significant effect on our moods or cycles. i always chalked it up to the physical stress that affected my mood. i watched a TED talk about a woman who literally schedules her entire month and productivity based on her cycle and i remember scoffing at it. until i paid attention to the notes i was taking on my period app and the moods i’ve tracked. 

the further away from my cycle, the more frequently i selected moods like “focused, motivated, excited, energetic.” the week before my period was when id start frequenting my mental health apps more. when i started to overthink more. when i started questioning my relationships more. “motivated” turned into “stressed, anxious, confused, lethargic.” not even just physically, cause that’s expected. but my brain gets foggy. my days are a blur. im unsure about all my decisions. it sounds awful but it’s the one time of the month that im fully in touch with my emotions. this is when i have a chance for catharsis. all the emotions i suppressed for the sake of productivity and functionality teem until i have no choice but to finally confront them. they usually manifest in an ugly way (im still trying to get a hold of this) but the end result is me ending this month’s cycle with a clean slate and no emotional baggage. then im back to regular scheduling. 

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@reeceking_ : even if i’m goin thru personal hard shit i can’t allow all of me to just agree w/ hittin rock bottom, like fuck that i refuse.

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Neil knows he’s doing better, doing well even, but there are still nights he wakes suddenly, icy fear coursing through him. And it doesn’t stop when he sees the black-clad person laying beside him. 

Everything at evermore was black. The walls, the floors, the sheets, the clothes. Riko always wore black. Always.

 The glint of Andrew’s blonde hair in the moonlight usually helps to soothe the panic until he can wrestle it back inside his chest again but it kills him a little more every time his brain forces him to associate Andrew’s black clothes in the dead of night with Riko and everything he’d done.

Andrew wakes up one of these nights, lashing out in instinct, but the anger in his eyes melts into focus when he sees Neil hunched over, breathing raggedly. He clicks on the light, positioning his face in Neil’s line of sight but doesn’t touch him. 

He listens, sharp and intuitive, and only has to hear Neil’s gasped, “Riko….black,” and he puts the pieces together. 

Andrew talks him down, helps him breathe steadily. Andrew whispers soft words against Neil’s hair and cradles the back of his neck gently, until they’re both ready to brave sleeping again. 

The next morning, Andrew skips classes. Neil’s brightest orange fox hoodie is missing, and Andrew’s scrawl on a scrap of paper informs him he’ll be back later. He returns late in the afternoon and stalks in with an armload of bags. He slams the door to the bathroom and reemerges five minutes later. 

His pack of cigarettes is missing from his bedside table, so he heads to the roof. Neil is there, (‘predictable’ part of Andrew’s mind whispers, while another part insists 'home’) breathing in cigarette smoke and staring at the sky. 

Andrew sits down next to him without a word. Neil’s breath catches when he turns and sees Andrew. He clears his throat. “Yes or no?” he asks quietly. 

“Yes,” Andrew says, and that’s all the words they need for this moment.

Neil says 'thank you’ with the kisses pressed to his lips. He says 'it means everything to me’ in the way he cards his hands through Andrew’s hair. 'you didn’t have to’ with his forehead pressed against Andrew’s. 

'Yes I did,’ Andrew answers him with a kiss, both firm and gentle.

The rest of the foxes don’t understand why Andrew has swapped his entire monochrome wardrobe for obnoxious neons. Neil does, and when he wakes from a nightmare, bright green or lighting yellow, electric blue or hot pink greets him, and never suffocating black.

Just wanted to let you guys know that I’ll be starting my job as a nurse tomorrow so posting will be slower from now on! I have NO idea how much work I’ll have on my hands, or what my schedule is going to look like, or if I’ll get weekends off during my month of training (I DOUBT IT) but I guess I’ll manage…! :’)

(Can I call myself resident matron Platina now? :D )

We aren’t dead, yet – a zombie!jack aesthetic

   Jack grunted as he was pulled along the road by the rope tied around his waist. He’d seen a dead raccoon on the road about half a mile back, but Mark had refused to let him stop to gnaw at it. They were running out of daylight and Jack had trouble with his vision enough during the day. Attempting to let him wander behind at night could lead into all kinds of unfortunate accidents. 

   “Come on,” He tugged at the rope and Jack jerked forward, groaning in protest, “Do you have to be such a pain in my ass all the time?” Jack grunted, giving a wordless response, and then they fell back into silence again. That was okay. Whatever part of Jack’s brain that was left alive didn’t seem to mind silence, and Mark needed time to think.