but they are feeling seriously less dire

If things feel helpless:

  • You are loved. 
  • Reach out to that support system of yours- maybe that means family, maybe it means friends. Call them, talk to them in person, do whatever you can do. You’ll be surprised by how much talking it out can help. 
  • There is no shame in getting help. 
  • Do something for yourself. Maybe it’s little, maybe it’s big. Take a mental health day, workout, go get some coffee or tea. Read your favorite book, watch a sitcom. Clean, take a shower, get work done. Take care of yourself. 
  • Your feelings are valid. 
  • There are always options, even when it feels like this is the be-all and end-all.
  • Things can change. Things will change. It won’t be consistent, there will be ups and downs. Through it all you are strong and beautiful.
  • You are not alone.

Greyling quickly finds that a suit is pretty impractical for fighting in and requests Nooroo help him change it after a few outside battles and close calls.

So the direction I think this goes is that Adrien behaves a bit differently when he’s in the fray. In a word: showy. Like you know that sort of free feeling when you cosplay? This is that for Adrien. He also incidentally lets his excitable inner weeb through. He behaves very much like Cat Noir as you’d expect, but I am serious about him being even flashier. Cats at least have some form of lithe coolness to them that butterflies just don’t have. And the removal of the suit really dresses down him feeling serious too. Greyling is, dare I say, excited to actually be able to physically help Ladybug, but when it comes to the two actually conversing his charisma absolutely checks out.

Speaking of Ladybug, she’s actually a bit taken aback by the similarities between Adrien and Greyling. Like Adrien, Greyling starts out as a distant and grave figure, and when she meets him this bleeds over until his seriousness almost completely dissolves. With Greyling, she actually does find it a bit off-putting at first since their situation is no less dire than before he stepped outside. She wasn’t expecting someone so bubbly! What happened to the Greyling she knew and loved?! As she warms up to this new side of him, she begins to see more of Adrien in him. Not that she actually figures it out! She isn’t even that suspicious and it’s the same kind of frustrating obliviousness we love the show for.

He’s got a bit of a magician/performer vibe happening, and he uses his sword-cane to fence. Loves that playful banter.

anonymous asked:

-slides in- -poses- your Vanderwood and Saeran headcanons add 10 years to my life. Is it okay to request those two with an s/o who's afraid of being alone (especially in the dark holy heck it's terrifying)

What’s that I hear…? Headcanons about my two favorite characters to write about?

Of course, Anon! Here you go.


  • He understands. He does. The dark freaks him out too. That’s why the two of you have a nightlight in the bedroom and in the hallway leading out to the kitchen. And he’s calmed down about it a little, but that first year after leaving Mint Eye…? Well. He still remembers the kind of stuff those drugs made him saw. What if they just… come back?
  • …If he’s alone, how does he know anything he knows or sees is real?
  • And you - god, whenever you’re home alone, your mind kicks into overdrive. Every creak, every tiny little shift in the foundation could mean there’s an intruder, and every little flicker outside your window could be the first signs of a crazed, axe-wielding murderer lurking in the dark. And that was just the mundane concerns. Ghost, demons… when you were alone, you just felt uneasy, like something was watching your every step.
  • Being together 24/7 is impossible though, that’s not healthy in the slightest, and you can’t always be with people, so the both of you have worked together to figure out ways to manage this fear.
  • The first his idea - just reason out the little noises with pure, cold logic. He made little lists of statistics (how often did people break into houses in your neighborhood, really?, what exactly is the likelihood you’ll get murdered? it’s pretty dang low) and charts for you to easily look at that had probable causes of the noises you were hearing. (Tapping at the window? Tree branch. Odd creak? Just a floorboard. Vaguely person-shaped shadow in the corner of your vision? The brain plays some really funny tricks of the eye.)
  • It helps. Sort of. Honestly, the thing that helps the most is knowing that he made these for you. When it’s late and you’re alone, you don’t feel so uneasy - at least, at home. When you’re out walking? hooooo freakin’ boy, though at least Saeran can usually be on the phone with you in times like those. You talk about nice things. Your vacation plans, what you’re going to have for dinner.
  • Anything but the fear.
  • The second big thing is your idea. You’ve heard about therapy animals, and you’re shocked about how much having a dog around helps Saeran with all of his issues. That big, sweet German Shepherd makes him feel safe when you’re not around, loves him when he’s scared and comes to his side when he gets fidgety. If Cocoa isn’t scared, then he doesn’t need to be - and honestly? Neither do you.
  • …Still. That doesn’t always make it better. That doesn’t always work. And Saeran never, ever minds those moments when you need him after you’ve panicked, need him to hold your hands or rub your shoulders to get rid of that awful, clammy chill. Even when his own issues make it difficult to touch you - there was a good long period at the beginning when he was notoriously fickle about it, like a cat - he’d have you hold one end of a stick, and he the other in his own way of ‘holding hands’.
  • One night, you wake up with a start, in complete, pitch blackness, and there’s no one around. Not Saeran, not Cocoa, and you stumble to the door, your chest tight and your breaths coming out in little wheezes. “Saeran,” you call out, weak and desperate - because where is he? Have you forgotten something? Is he on a trip, is he doing work late, is he…?
  • Why is it so dark?
  • You fumble for the door handle, but your shaking hands make it so difficult, and here you are, panicking, feeling awful about it but also scared out of your mind.
  • Suddenly, the door opens - and Saeran is there, and you collapse against him, face pressed against his chest and arms tight around his middle. You don’t normally touch him so suddenly, but this is a special case - and luckily, he doesn’t freak out from the abrupt contact.
  • In fact, he cups the back of your head with one hand, and you notice there’s light in the other- an electric lantern, the one you used on the porch sometimes when you’re sitting out there together.
  • “Sorry,” he murmurs, petting your hair softly. You notice he’s shaking a little too, and your dog is near the two of you, body pressed against your legs. “Power went out. Didn’t want you to wake up and have it be dark.”
  • You calm each other down on the bed, and tell each other that it’ll get better. It’s get better. Day by day - you’ll be less afraid.
  • There’s hope, but for now, you have each other.


  • Vanderwood ain’t scared of NOTHIng actually. Alright. They’re scared of being shot. They’re scared of being judged lacking by people in authority. They get anxious when they don’t feel in control of their life and sometimes you need to calm them down when they’ve worked themselves into a fervor - but they’re not scared of being alone. But they don’t dismiss it, they don’t make fun of it, and they certainly take it seriously, because there’s nothing more dire to them than you shaking and crying.
  • Secretly, they kind of like you needing them nearby - it makes them feel like they’re actually making a difference- but they also don’t like that you’re upset so they try to figure out ways to help you.
  • They tell you that whatever you’re scared of, you can beat it up. Robber? They’ll teach you martial arts. Ghost? Sign of the cross and PUNCH IT IN THE FACE. Darkness? I’ll hold your flower darling KICK THE PERSONIFICATION OF DARKNESS’ ASS.
  • It makes you giggle and you feel a little less alone, imagining Vanderwood telling you to taser things when you’re scared. (Sometimes they leave their taser with you, letting you keep it close to you for comfort.)
  • They send you emails sometimes and tell you not to check them until you need it. When you do, it’s full of jokes and little things to make you laugh. They make fun of your boss. They make fun of their boss. They make fun of all the other members of the RFA and you’re just snickering at their dumb messages filled with so much snark and love.
  • (They leave you their coat, too, and it smells like them and if they’re ever away for the night, you wrap yourself up in it.)
  • One night you’re waiting for the bus and there only person around is a man who is making you feel weird and it’s past time for it to come and you text Vanderwood, trying not to shake but God it’s dark, and a minute later they call you and start telling you about what they’re making for breakfast tomorrow.
  • Pancakes with raspberry sauce and whipped cream, fresh sausages they got from the butcher, hot chocolate flavored with toasted marshmallow syrup in it… they describe how it’ll taste, how it’ll smell, and your mouth is watering.
  • Then - and they stumble a bit at this, stuttering because it’s STILL embarrassing to talk about these things - they tell you about how they'll… c-cuddle you… when….
  • Shit do I have to say this
  • Shit
  • Can we go back to talking about food
  • (“No,” you say, a little smile playing on your lips. “Go on.”)
  • “A-and you can… sleep with your head on my… er…. I mean…  on my shoulder and….”
  • “………….bath? I haven’t had one yet so we could take one and… uh…”
  • They also get Seven to make you a little companion robot for when you’re at home. Just. “Dude you owe me, just take them something they’ll make them feel safe. That can protect them when I’m not around.”
  • (Seven takes samples of Vanderwood’s voice to make it’s soundbank, but the personality is a ridiculous caricature of them. It makes you laugh and you hug it the first time you hear it speak.)
  • They make you feel safe, and you’re pretty sure if you were ever ACTUALLY in any trouble, they’d drive through a wall to save you.
  • (actually please don’t Vanderwood that’d kill you)
fic: butterflies turned to dust

Bellamy misses his leg.

Well, of course he does. He can’t run track without it. He can’t drive without it. He can’t even walk properly without it.

The wheels on his wheelchair stick to the hospital’s too-clean floor, making a soft sound every few seconds. Octavia pushes him at a leisurely pace, strolling like she’s got all the time in the world, and he wants nothing more than to just take off on his own.

But the last time he’d wheeled himself, he’d knocked over a nurse. So.

“I spy with my little eye-”

“The floor,” Bellamy interrupts, trying not to seethe. “Or the ceiling. Or the walls.”

Octavia huffs behind him, turning him a little roughly around a corner. “Fine, ruin the game.”

“It’s always the floor, the ceiling, or the walls,” Bellamy snaps. “That’s literally all there is.”

“Not true. There’s… like… medical supplies. And stuff.”

“Right,” Bellamy says flatly. “Okay.”

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