#earlier while napping i did it and i was like in my 50s or so checked my mirror and saw my wrinkles then i went out to my car | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

partycatty · 1 month

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older!johnny cage > overheard

you're caught in the act of swooning over your boss

notes: i'm not even fuckin playing i just woke up from my nap in a cold sweat with this idea haunting my mind so here i am. i truly honestly genuinely cannot stop thinking about dilf johnny and his thick fucking arms and how much i want him to [REDACTED]

[ masterlist ]

• during your break from training, you managed to squeeze in a meal break with one of your closest friends. it was just the two of you, laughing and for once breaking the stoicism implanted into your demeanors from training ruthlessly.

• "jesus, commander cage really kicked our asses today," your friend whined, rolling her shoulder. "i get we're fighting against demons and elementals, but did we really need to run twenty miles?"

• "it wasn't all bad," you shrug, poking at your food. "we've done worse, i feel."

• "oh hush, you had the time of your life," your friend groaned, lightly pushing into your shoulder with a smirk. "you and johnny cage got to run beside each other in formation." your friend was sure to say his name in an announcer voice, wiggling her fingers as she pretended to read a large sign.

• you huff, planting a fist on the table as you try to conceal your embarrassment with faux anger. "oh my god shut up..."

• your mind wanders to earlier in the day. johnny decided to wear only a tank top instead of a long sleeve with a vest, giving you a delicious view of his arms as they pumped during the run. while you two didn't talk, he shared panting encouragements by your side, telling you you were doing so good and how much further you had left. it made running feel almost impossible as each word and grunt knocked the wind from you.

• "jesus, look at you," your friend laughs at your dreamy expression as you replay the memory. "you're down bad, girl, anyone and their mother could tell."

• "is it that obvious?" you murmur, burying your face with your hands. "i'm doomed."

• "nah, you might have a shot," she insists, pulling your hands from your face. "he might be into younger women, most celebrities are."

• "but he's not just a celebrity, he's our superior," you whine, rolling your head back. "i just watch his movies and pretend i'm the love interest."

• "oh, it's bad bad," she laughs, looking past you for a moment. her smile falters.

• "can you blame me? ugh," you rake a hand through your hair. "he's all muscle, he could just pick me up and snap me like a twig! normally i'd settle for height alone but holy fuck he's built like a brick fucking wall!"

• your friend falls silent.

• "and don't even get me started on his age," you point an accusatory finger. "he is 50 something and so fucking fine i can't even bring myself to focus on literally anything ever. i watched some of his old movies, and he literally aged like the finest fucking wine any vineyard has ever even dreamed of making! thank god his daughter is the commander because if he stood around and told me what to do i'd behave so much like a dog it would embarrass me. he is the god damn devil in disguise and i sure a shit don't have a single chance of him even looking in my direction with any more than a smile because at the end of the day i'm just a sad little recruit crushing on a guy who probably has a massive di—"

• "i'm fifty-nine," you hear a low, horrifyingly familiar voice in your ear. you can't even bring yourself to turn around, smile dropping and eyes widening. the only thing you can bring yourself to do is stare across the table at your friend, who's as equally still. maybe if you were still enough, he wouldn't see you. like a dinosaur.

• "lieutenant," you breathe out after a long silence, drunk on the smell of his cologne. "we were just... t-talking about you."

• "oh yeah?" his voice is rumbly, a teasing inflection making you want to burst out in tears. you had a faint suspicion he was behind you the entire time, something he confirmed before you could muster the strength to speak. "sounded more like it was just you."

• "well," you wonder if you can outrun him, stammering as you try to talk yourself out of this. "you know..."

• you finally get the courage to spin in your chair, turning around to face him. he's towering over your sitting form, a shit-eating smirk on his lips.

• "i'm sorry, sir, i'll... i'll do extra push-ups, i'll go overtime on training, scrub the toilets, anything to—"

• he holds a hand up, waving it away as he shakes his head slowly.

• "don't stress it," he stands up straight, crossing his arms. oh my god his arms. "but, uh... just a word, in my office, when you have the chance." you almost miss the wink he sends at you, but you caught it just as he spun on his heel and walked out, a cocky sway to his hips.

• you spin back around, slack jawed at your friend, who's red from holding in her scream of excitement.

• "he's totally gonna bang you on his desk," she finally spits out, covering her mouth immediately after. you just lower your head, hitting it against the table in defeat.

• who knows what he's gonna do to you in his office?

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk11 #marley writes ☆

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livwritesstuff · 2 months

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i’ve been very quiet so srry - my week started with my annual performance review (which went well) and ended with an emergency surgery (also went well) so…a lot going on to say the least

this is a deleted scene from the first chapter of plant a seed

When Robin called, Steve and Eddie were in the phase of newborn parenthood where they froze every single time the phone rang (because said newborn was napping more often than not and when she was, there was a 50% chance minimum the phone would wake her up).

So when Robin called and the ringing of the phone broke the otherwise peaceful silence, Steve froze and he waited. When the baby didn't wake up, Steve exhaled a sigh of relief and answered the call.

"This is Steve."

"Hey Steve-o!"

Steve immediately recognized the voice as Robin's – of course he did, even if he hadn't heard it since she and Nancy left for a work trip in Japan a little over a month ago.

“Oh shit,” Steve said, because this means that Robin and Nancy are finally home, finally back in their Boston apartment fifteen minutes away from his and Eddie's in Cambridge instead of the opposite side of the entire world, “You’re home!”

“Yep,” Robin replied, popping the P, “That plane was a million degrees, I’m pretty sure. No more August flights if I have any say in it. Anyways – wanted to let you know we made it back unscathed. What’s new with you guys?”

“Uh…” Steve began, not totally sure where to start, because Robin didn't know about the baby he and Eddie had been placed with two weeks ago and she certainly didn't know that they're going to adopt her (because they'd landed on that decision that very day – about two hours ago, to be specific), “Well–”

“Hey, do you still have those placements?" Robin interrupted, "The kids who like to read the Goosebumps books?”

“Oh,” Steve blinked, “No. They went back with their mom a couple days after you left.”

“Damn. Been a while. Forgot this trip was longer than usual – wait, so are you between placements now, then? Hey, we should finally make that trip to P-Town!”

"Might need a raincheck on that," Steve said with a laugh, because at the moment a trip to the goddamn grocery store required at least a day's worth of planning, "We've got another placement right now – a newborn. We've had her for, uh, for just under two weeks, pretty sure."

“Shit, a newborn?" Robin repeated.

Steve faintly heard Nancy's voice, though he couldn't make out exactly what she was saying. He listened as Robin recounted to her what he'd just said, then started to laugh.

"Nancy just said that if she misses out on a chance to hold a new baby, she'll kill you," Robin told him, "Any idea when she might move on?”

Steve paused for a second. He and Eddie had decided earlier that they wouldn’t be telling anyone about the baby until the adoption was finalized, but…it’s Robin.

He doesn’t think he’s ever kept a secret from Robin before, certainly not something this big and certainly not for very long.

He has to tell her.

“We’re, uh, we’re actually adopting her.”

Robin was silent.

Then –

“Holy shit – Steve.”

And then –

“I’m coming over right now. Immediately. Wait–” Robin stopped, “Damn, I can’t be a dick and come over unannounced anymore, can I? Because you guys have a baby. A baby. And she’s gonna be yours? What the fuck? Wait, let me start over.”

Robin paused long enough to take a deep breath.

“Steve Harrington – my best friend who’s finally fulfilling a lifelong dream of becoming a dad – when will you allow us to come and be formally introduced to our niece?”

Truth be told, Steve wouldn’t say no to a visit from Robin and Nancy that day (especially after the our niece comment), but their case worker had just started faxing over all the paperwork to get the ball rolling on the adoption process and Steve has a feeling that he might catch Eddie trying to fill that shit out as it came out of the machine so tonight they might be a little occupied.

"Tomorrow?" he suggested.

"Morning?" Robin added.

Steve laughed, "Sure. Tomorrow morning."

"Bright and early, dad. Holy fuck, I can't believe you're a dad."

"You can't?"

"No, I totally can."

#remember faxing?#i don't but it was def a thing in 2001 #liv’s steddie dads verse #stobin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #ronance #-> hesitant to tag bc ik folks get annoyed when steddie content clogs up the ronance tag but this is mostly stobin - will delete if asked

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neevblanc · 4 months

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your cafe event is so cute!🩷🩷 Dazai hurt/comfort (the boy needs catharsis)...the word is scars. Thank you! -Iris🩵

a/n —hi hi iris!! tysm, im glad u think so :D i wanna wrap dazai in a blanket burrito like ppl do with their cats. hes just a little guy (in the tone of that tiktok audio thats like "what murdaaa?")!!! p.s i did ADA! dazai! sorry if you wanted mafia/dark era, pls let me know and i'll do another teehee

blanca’s cafe event!

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Dazai Osamu x GN!reader

Tags— angst, hurt/comfort, dazai osamu needs a hug, but pls dont touch him, or maybe do because it's you, wound dressing, themes of depression

CW/TW— self-harm (character runs hot water on hands), mentions of sh scars (non-explicit), trauma, disassociation!

please keep yourself safe.

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"I Bet On Losing Dogs"

00:32 ━━●─────── 02:50

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ "i bet on losing dogs, i know they're losing and i'll pay for my place"

"Osamu? You alright in there?"

Your voice sounded muffled through the wooden door, and the cotton in his ears just made it that much harder to hear.

The tap kept running, the water so hot it steamed against the basin, rising and wisping across his face and leaving a dampness across his skin. His hands lay directly below the water, and he knows despite his nerves screaming from the cold feeling, they are experiencing a burn so intense the receptors cannot help but be confused by the extreme temperature.

He doesn't remember why he came in here or what he was doing before.

"...Osamu?" The door rattles for a moment. He can't tear his gaze away from the rushing water or his reddening skin.

The bathroom door opens, and the sudden movement in the corner of his eye is enough to drag him out of the fog. His head moves just enough to look at you, eyes blinking slowly.

"What?" He mutters, mouth heavy. His hands are still under the tap. He watches your face fall subtly. With gentle (kind, so kind) hands, you carefully push his hands out of the stream and turn the creaky faucet. The water stops abruptly, stray drops clinking against the sink.

"Osamu, can you hear me?" You say, and your voice sounds closer than it had earlier. Everything does- the way your clothes crinkle as you move to open the cabinet and gather a collection of things he can't muster the energy to pay attention to, his breathing, the shuffling of your shoes.

"Of course I can hear you." He answers, blinking heavily. He's present enough to feel a pinch of annoyance. Another episode, spacing out like an idiot when he could be doing anything else...like annoying Kunikida, napping, reading the same book for the 86th time,

Or talking to you. You said something again, didn't you?

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He hummed, blinking to gather his bearings again. You'd gotten him to sit on the toilet, lid closed, while you gently dabbed a cooling gel onto his irritated skin. There's a jolt of fear when he realizes his bandages lay on the counter, unraveled messily and leaving him exposed. Dazai figures he must've taken them off while he was under.

"I was just asking if you could hear me, Dazai-san." You say, smiling at him despite the concerned pinch of your brows. He nods, smiling in return.

"Yes, I can." He answers shortly. His skin itches where you touch, and he attributes it to the burns despite knowing touch has always felt vile to him. You put the burn gel on the counter and lean back, looking at him for a beat. He averts his eyes, shame clawing at his face.

"You shouldn't stare at me like that. You'll give me the wrong idea." He teases, but it falls flat, and he knows it. You huff a tiny sigh, pick up a roll of bandages, and hold out your hand.

"Let me?" You say, and your voice is so soft he leans forward like he was chasing the sound. His hair shifts with the movement when he nods. Your hands are on him again, and he focuses on keeping his breathing steady while your hands move to wrap his arms. The fabric settles familiarly against his skin, though these seem scratchier than the ones he prefers to buy. Your application is just as kind as you, not as tight as he often does, to keep them from unraveling faster.

"I'm sorry." He says, and his voice falters in a way he had worked hard to never let you hear before. You finish off the first arm before saying anything, crouching so he'd be forced to look you in the eyes. You brace yourself against his knees, and the tingles that come from the touch aren't as pronounced this time.

"Don't be. I don't mind, and I never will. Not if it's you, Dazai." You assure him, absently running your thumb across the fabric covering his knee. You stand again and gently take his other arm.

Dazai lets you, a mess of feelings that all feel like they burn across his skin, hotter than the water that had bitten at his hands.

"You shouldn't call me that, you know." He mutters, frowning. You pause, and he knows you tilted your head in confusion without even looking up.

"Call you what?" You answer, moving to wrap another loop around his arm. He grins.

"You called me Osamu earlier, hm? It hurts my feelings to return to Dazai," He whines, and you startle with a little jolt. Dazai suppressed the smile that threatened to grow at your surprise.

"Sorry, I- didn't think you could hear me, so I thought it would shock you if I used your name." You explained, voice small. He smiled this time, looking up at you.

"Mm, smart of you. Still, you can call me Osamu. I like the way you say it." He says- eyes narrowed in that way he can't help. You fiddle with the bandage roll in your hands, and he's satisfied to make you flustered again.

You settle with another sigh, resuming your task. With you so close, Dazai can see how you fight off a smile. It makes him feel like he's won, somehow- like seeing the worried crease on your face melt away was his only goal, and having done it makes his skin settle, no longer buzzing and crawling like it always does.

"Sure, if you're alright with it then." You answer, smiling gently. He averts his gaze and lets you finish, feeling cold when you step away to put the things back into the medicine cabinet. He stands, mindful of the gel still on his hands, despite the urge to shove them into his pockets like he often does.

You turn to him once you're done, a little nervous. He waits patiently for you to gather your words.

"You shouldn't wrap your bandages so tight. It's not good for your circulation. I don't know how long you were like...that, but there were still marks from them on your arms. Please." You say, leaning your weight on the counter.

Dazai blinks at you for a moment, but he smiles and nods.

"Alright, I'll try not to."

You grin at his reply and exit the bathroom without another word. He follows, quickly turning off the light as you walk down the hall, back to the main room of Cafe Uzumaki.

There's a lot left to say, he thinks. He knows you have questions about the scars that litter his arms, some clean and some jagged and painful-looking. He knows you want to help; it's in your nature to help.

He wants to ask you to say his name until it doesn't sound real anymore, wants to feel your hands on his skin again because he wants to know if the itch was really from you or the burn, and wants to let you bandage his arms every day because you do it with an amount of care he is sure he does not deserve.

But walking up the stairs back to the agency (where Atsushi will look at him warily in fear of another report being bummed off to him, and Kenji will ask him if city folk always take hours in the bathroom) next to you, he finds he can't bring himself to be as selfish as to ask you anything more.

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai

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breannasfluff · 7 months

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Multicolored Rabbits

Flufftober 3: You love me?

AO3 link

Legend and the rest of the Chain return to the house where the Ravio colors have taken over. This time, it seems like they are settling in to stay for a while—at least longer than the scant hour of last time.

Gold is in the shop, helping a customer when Legend tromps in, followed by the other heroes. “Hi, Ravio—why is your robe yellow?”

“It’s gold.” He turns back to his customer. “Apologies, sir. Now this fine wand will save you time lighting fires! It’s not so powerful that it will damage an enemy, but candles, fires, and cookware alike will benefit from its steady stream of flame!”

The man frowns at the small rod. “I guess my wife would like it.”

“Yes, yes! Think how happy she’ll be when she saves time making you dinner!”

Legend edges closer and tugs on Gold’s sleeve. “Hey. The robe. It’s different.”

Gold rolls his eyes and pushes the vet away. “I’m busy! And I like this color!” He aims a blinding smile at the customer. “This can be yours for a steal! Just 299 rupees! If you buy the ice wand as well, I’ll throw in a discount!”

“299!” The man shoots him a look. “This isn’t worth more than 50!”

“50!” Gold doesn’t have to feign his horror. “I’m an honest salesman! I need to put food on the table for my family!”

“You’re just trying to scam me!”

Legend edges around the two, waving the other heroes to follow him. “I call the bath and then I’m taking a nap. The rest of you, get settled. Ravio, mind finishing that sale and putting on something for dinner? The other heroes went to Kakariko for supplies, but they will be back later.”

Gold ignores him. “I don’t scam! I have fair prices! It’s called supply and demand, and I have the only supply.” His smile has the customer taking a step back. “Where else are you going to buy a fire wand?”

The customer finally leaves and Gold counts his rupees before carefully noting them in the book. Purple may owe him for watching the shop for the afternoon, but Lolia, it is always good to make rupees.

Purple hums as he hefts his bag of goods. Kakariko is a nice place to visit and it’s good to get out of the shop for the day. Gold will probably complain about how much he spent, but there was a good deal on carrots! Combined with the honey saved in the pantry, they can make some nice roasted carrots for dinner.

“Ravio!”

Purple fixes his smile in place on pulls on the Ravio persona—mostly himself with Gold’s wheedling. It’s good enough to make it through short conversations without arousing suspicion.

However, the people approaching are not customers. Are those…the heroes that stopped by before? The youngest waves energetically. “Mr. Rabbit! You’re Ravio, right? We met last time we stopped by!”

Does this mean Link—Legend is back? Purple hurries over. “Hello, heroes! Are you heading back to Mr. Hero’s house?”

“Yeah! We’re stopping in town to restock on supplies and then heading back.”

“Oh, what do you need? Maybe I have it?” Purple pulls open his bag and looks at them expectantly.

“Ah—” Warriors waves the offer away. “I don’t think we want to make a deal—”

“A deal!” Purple clutches the bag to his chest. “If you need something, I want to help you! It wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of you!” Gold’s voice screeching about rupees echoes in his ears. “I, ah, save that for the…customers?” It comes out a question more than a statement.

Warriors gives him a squinty look but shrugs and lets it go. “Okay, we need to pick up some health and stamina potions.”

Purple dives into his bag, pulling out the bottles he’d picked up to restock their supplies. “Here you go! Now, what else do you need?”

Cyan stares at Four. The smith stares back. Their sword, almost a replica of the one Ravio found gleams from its sheath.

“You seem…different.” Four squints at him. “Weren’t you wearing a yellow robe earlier?”

Cyan blinks at him. Gold would be disappointed to hear them get the color wrong.

“Did you change?”

When will the others get back? Actually, where’s Gold? Wasn’t he in the front shop?

“Is this some sort of item? Can you…duplicate?”

Cyan would like to see the sword, but logically it makes more sense to wait for everyone before explaining. No need to do it multiple times.

“Did something curse you from talking?”

Where does the hero come up with these theories?

“Can you understand me? Do you know hylian? Sign? …words? Speaking? Anything?”

The color blinks slowly and continues to stare at the small hero. Throwing up their hands, Four stomps out of the room, muttering about weird rabbits under their breath.

Pink comes inside after finishing organizing the cellar to find strangers in their house. Two of them are hiding in the hallway, peering into the kitchen. This is strange—besides the fact that they are strangers—so Pink pauses to watch for a moment.

There’s a rhythmic thud in the kitchen where Pink left Gleam chopping vegetables.

White cape nudges wolf pelt. “Twilight. Why is Ravio in the kitchen angrily chopping a carrot?”

“I’m more concerned about the fact that he’s glowing. But sure, Sky, let’s focus on the carrot.”

“The glowing is weird but, you know, potions and stuff.”

Silence as they watch. Pink watches them. They seem nice, even if their names are odd. Purple mentioned those names before when he told them about the heroes. Maybe they’re back? Oh, Legend must be back as well!

Sky nudges Twilight again. “How long has he been done with that carrot?”

“A good couple of minutes.”

Pink edges closer so he can see past the heroes. Gleam is where he was left and, after dutifully finishing his pile of vegetables, continues to chop the air on the empty board. Well, Pink did promise to come back with more veggies and he did get caught up organizing the cellar…

“It’s creepy!” Sky hisses.

Gleam isn’t creepy! Sure he’s…odd, but he just needs a friend. And directions. Very clear directions.

Twilight’s ears flick back at a particularly loud chop. “Do you think he’ll murder us before dinner?

Well! That’s enough of that! Pink pushes past them with a sniff. “Gleam is perfectly nice.” Then he turns his attention to Gleam. “Hi, Gleam! Sorry it took me a while to get back, I got distracted in the cellar.”

He dumps his armful of supplies and vegetables on the counter. “I got some potatoes—no!” He slaps Gleam’s hand away when he reaches for them. “Remember, we need to wash them first. In water.” A pause. “Without soap.” See? Pink learns from experience! And the complaints of three colors about soapy food.

“Ravio?” comes a tentative voice behind him. It’s Sky, edging into the kitchen.

“I’m Pink!” he offers before scooping the potatoes into the sink.

“I can…see that.”

He passes a potato to Gleam and turns to smile at Sky. “No, I mean you can call me Pink. This is Gleam.”

Sky looks between the two, then turns back to Twilight. “You got anything?”

“Don’t look at me. Magical weirdness is Legend’s domain.”

Pink perks up. “Is Mr. Hero back with you?” Gently, he nudges another potato into Gleam’s hand and takes the clean one before the skin is rubbed off.

Twilight doesn’t answer, but he leans back into the hallway and bellows, “Legend! Sky is stealing your stuff!”

“No, I’m not!”

For a second, there’s silence. Then, a door slams, and the vet pounds down the hall and barrels into the room. “Don’t touch my—Ravio! Multiple Ravio’s! Din’s Tits, did you get into the cursed rings?”

Sky looks from one to the other. “You have one that does that?”

“I’ve got one that does everything. Seriously, Rav, what’s going on? And why are you…glowing?”

Before Pink can answer, Gleam turns and chucks a wet potato at Sky, who squawks and ducks. “What was that for?”

Gleam stares. “Don’t. Steal.”

“I’m not stealing! I’m not touching anything!”

Gleam points to where Sky’s feet are on the floor.

“That doesn’t count!”

Before the situation can devolve further, the front door bangs open. “Hey Ledge!” Wind shouts. “We met Ravio out shopping and brought him back with us!”

“Did you now.” Legend’s brows are scrunching in so much Pink wants to smooth it away. “Funny. Because Ravio is already here.”

“What? No, he’s right…here.” Wind trails off as Purple bumps into his back.

“Oh.”

The vet is seething as he rounds on Purple, who likely looks the most like Ravio. “Why are there clones of you? What did you do?”

“Hey now—”

Gleam throws another potato at Legend. “Don’t yell.”

“It’s my house!”

Pink pries the rest of the potatoes away from Gleam and nudges him further from the knives. Just in case.

From down the hall, comes Four’s voice. “I know you can hear me! I see your ears twitching! I heard you talk early!”

Blue squeezes past Legend to grab a glass from the cabinet, ignoring the tension in the room. Pink is in front of the sink but takes the cup with a smile and fills it.

The color takes a sip and looks around. “Looks like everyone’s here now. Four has a sword that looks identical to the one we found.”

“You do talk!” Four, for all he’s short, manages to gain inches in height. “Why were you ignoring me—wait.” He deflates and rocks back on his heels. “What do you mean about my sword?”

More heroes crowd into the doorway and everyone shuffles, trying to accommodate the extra people.

Time puts down the supplies he was carrying. “Four? What’s going on with your sword?”

“I don’t know!”

Legend points at all the colors. “Which one of you is Ravio?”

Silence.

Then, from the hallway, Gold bellows, “Did you fucking forget about me?”

Blue blinks placidly. “We’re missing Gold.”

By the time everyone is sat down and explanations are traded, Four is clutching his head and Legend is banging his on the wooden table.

“Four. This feels like your fault.”

“I’m not dealing with this again! Especially not—him!” He points at Gleam.

“Hey!” Pink moves next to the color and squeezes him in a hug. “Gleam is nice!”

Sky edges behind Twilight. “He threw a potato at me.”

“And me,” Legend says.

“Yeah? Well, he didn’t throw knives!”

The vet’s head meets wood again. “The bar is so low.” Then he glares at the colors. “Figure out how to fix this. I’m not living with multiple Ravio’s.”

Four seems truly miserable as he raises a hand. “I can probably…help with that.”

“Cyan,” Purple says, “why don’t you go talk to Four? The rest of you can help me make dinner.”

The color goes, as does the smith, even if he is hissing like a tea kettle.

Pink shifts. The tension in the room makes him itchy. Why can’t everyone get along? All he wants to do is give Legend a hug. He’s missed him! And if Pink misses him, everyone else does, too.

The heroes file back out of the room and spread through the house, but Legend stays. “What were you thinking? Cursed swords in Lorule? That’s your idea of treasure?”

Purple steps forward. “Where do you think your items came from, Mr. Hero?”

“Don’t you ever learn? You could have gotten hurt! You are—split! What if it’s not reversible?”

“That’s a risk we took when we went looking for treasure! We can’t change it!”

“Well, I wish you did! Of all the idiotic, truly goddess-blasted things to do, you had to do this while I was gone! Wait—” He steps forward and nearly snarls at Purple. “You were acting weird when we visited last.”

Purple shrinks back slightly. “Ah…the others were gone and, well…there wasn’t a good time to tell you?” It ends in a squeak.

“You lied? You lied about being a person?!” The vet is yelling now, face flushed red.

“We are people!”

Pink whimpers and burrows into his scarf. Why is everyone so angry? This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

Gleam looms behind Pink and wraps his arms around him, pulling him into an awkward hug. Pink pats his arm in thanks.

The yelling continues. Purple is at the end of his rope and Legend long ago lost his. Pink watches the back and forth, cringing with each cutting word.

“You should never have left!” Legend shouts.

“Stop it! Just stop!” Pink’s scream silences the room and they all turn to stare at him. He’s crying, but it doesn’t matter because everyone is mad and he never got a hug. “I’m sorry you h-hate us, but don’t yell at Purple!”

Legend opens his mouth, closes it, and then tries again, softer. “Hate you?”

With a nod, Pink rubs his sleeves against his eyes. “I’m sorry Mr. Hero. We can…well, Cyan will fix it.”

The vet is still stuck on the previous words. “I don’t hate you, Ravi. Any part of you. I love you, even if you're a freeloading pain. I’m just worried! And I don’t…deal with worry well.”

Pink stares. “Wait, you love us?”

“I always have. Jeez, you think I’d let you crash here otherwise?”

Purple picks up the conversation, but Pink tunes out. Legend…loves them. He loves Ravio. He loves…all of them?”

Something warm settles in his heart at the thought. He’ll need to discuss it with the Colors later—or maybe they’ll be Ravio again. Legend loves them.

Maybe he’ll get his hug after all.

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innaneramblingsofamadman · 1 year

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Chapter 8: You Pretty Thing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45283270/chapters/115141717

In his mind, Corvus thought tonight had gone over dreadfully well! He was ecstatic to be able to speak with other people again, and the young Sinclair boy had a sharp wit the few times he’d spoken up during their dinner. Gomez had played the perfect host, Morticia kept the conversation flowing, even Pugsley and Pubert made for good entertainment. Aside from the slight hiccup he’d had when Esther had spoken to him, it was a mission accomplished in his book. Though he’d taken a lot of his fun for the night from watching the end of the table where the two young women kept talking like old friends, Wednesday in particular looked to be enjoying herself while she spoke with the werewolf, listening to every word like it was the last thing she’d hear. As a Keeper, he could respect her skill for observation.

As was his nightly routine, he’d gone to his room following dinner to unwind and take in the quiet of his own space, maybe meditate a little, and Rue napped on the end of his bed in a little ball as the sounds of purring and gentle chirps soothed his soul. Just as he had finished the first page in his journal entry for the day there came a sharp knock at his door, and Wednesday burst into the room with Thing crawling behind her on the floor. Her eyes were cold and hard like a criminal, posture perfect as she demanded to know about Esther.

“Don’t spare a single detail, Enid relayed to me she can’t transform on the full moon even at her age, and already asked for my assistance.”

Corvus openly stared at the psychic as her dark eyes glared daggers into his own, Thing creeping up her shoulder slowly in what he guessed was an attempt at intimidation. After the busy day he’d had filled with dinner preparations and socializing like he hadn’t in a decade or more he wanted nothing in the world like he wanted to relax and write out his jumbled thoughts in the leatherbound journal, maybe enjoy a few cigarettes he’d rolled from a new blue moss that grew near the caves.

“I will not be asking so politely twice, cousin. Your behavior out there was strange and I demand answers as to why.” Wednesday crossed her arms and waited, he groaned and motioned for her to take a seat on the end of his bed next to Rue.Corvus began to dig through one of the drawers on the right side of his desk before pulling out two letters that were simply addressed “Keeper.”

The first was in a yellowed envelope, yet the ink was sparkly orange. The second looked more like a bill, plain white with blank ink.

“Enid and Esther both sent letters to me, about a week apart, with their own ideas of what the alliance might agree upon that would benefit both families.” Corvus held up the first letter and allowed his dark eyes to peruse the soft paper and neat cursive, honored that someone had remembered the old way to introduce themselves to a Keeper. It wasn’t common practice anymore, but it was traditional to use paper that was at least 50 years old and a colored ink that the person felt represented the situation. Orange was an odd choice in his eye, but he wouldn’t begrudge the girl for having a different taste to his.

“What did Enid say?” Wednesday asked, less demanding and more inquisitive now. She reached out a hand like she was waiting for him to hand it to her, but he smiled and shook his head.

“I won’t let you read this one, there’s some sensitive information you probably don’t know yet, but her basic idea was that in exchange for helping her to ‘wolf out,’ the Addams family would receive full access to the pack library for 72 hours.” A fair exchange in his mind, 72 hours was just enough to make sure they learned plenty from the werewolves without giving them time to get into the deeper secrets.

“And what did her mother write that had you so obviously upset earlier?”

His eyes darkened as his gaze flicked over to the plain white office paper that was still much too bright. Esther Sinclair had many things to say in her letter. Most of all what a disappointment Enid had turned out to be for not just her family, but the entire pack and their reputation as well. It took him a moment to calm himself and take a deep breath, focusing on the gentle requiem of magic within his veins, listening to it thrum and sing beneath the skin.

“She demanded that we either adopt Enid as an Addams,” another deep breath as he gripped his leg, “or clean her up quietly.” His voice was even and flat, the best he could manage at the moment. Wednesday’s eyes widened with shock and he saw the gears in her mind shifting into overdrive.

“Esther Sinclair asked you to kill Enid?” she clarified.

“Yes.”

_________

A simple one word reply was all it took to have her stunned and made the psychic narrow her eyes at the wall. The raven’s reading on her cousin screamed his emotions back to her, no matter how stoic his face was. Rage. Indignation. Sorrow.

Wednesday almost couldn’t believe her luck, but at least now she’d have an excuse when she ripped the crone’s still beating heart from her body and served it to Asmodeus for a treat. Corvus didn’t look to be quite as healthy or young as he had earlier, and now she could see again that his face was so thin that it scared even her a bit, the dark eyes swirled with anger and his shoulders were sagged as he rubbed his face with both hands. He looked so tired then, so worn.

If Wednesday really had been paying attention, there were signs to his age everywhere in the house from the vintage bottles of alcohol to the perfect attention to the land she’d seen earlier that day. But this was the first time he appeared old to her. The same way one might stumble upon a fae and see the centuries reflected in their hearts.

She stopped to consider for a moment while Rue woke up and chirruped to the sound of them talking and then prowled across the bed to lie in Wednesday’s lap. Once her own heart rate had settled a bit, Wednesday scratched the fur between the gryphowl’s ears and looked back to him.

“What are our options?” She was quiet and watched as Corvus took a drag from the strange rolling paper and let out a breath of teal smoke.

“Wait for the right moment to tell Enid. Regardless of how the Sinclair pack makes out with this deal, she is my priority here as she contacted me first with the proper procedure. Not only that though, her entire pack must have agreed to Esther’s terms and that sits on my chest heavier than a boulder. Addams don’t kill in cold blood, our entire family history speaks to that, and I will not have it sullied on the assumption of ignorant hounds.”

“I agree.” Wednesday nodded and stood, picking Rue up with her before she passed the mass of soft fur and feathers to the Keeper.

“Get some rest for now, and breathe not a word of this to the rest of the family. I will see that woman publicly shamed and humiliated as a tale for future generations. And as much as I love your father,” Corvus sighed, “he would not take the insult in stride and is known to be quite impatient.”

“I will be seeing Enid tomorrow, we’ve made plans to go rooting around through the library to find a solution.”

“Excellent. Let me know what you find or if you need any assistance,” he nodded. Relief. “It makes me glad that you two are getting along already.”

“I would like the key to your personal journals, if that is alright with you.” She crossed her hands in front of her as he dug through another drawer and pulled out a single white rune with Fehu carved into it in deep scarlet.

“Just press this to any lock you find and it will allow access, it’s my personal master key.”

Wednesday nodded in thanks and said a quick goodnight before she snuck her way back out into the hall and up the stairs to her room. Thing remained on her shoulder as she took a seat at her own desk with a few questions still buzzing around in the front of her mind. The pen and paper within the desk were more handy in that moment than she would have thought they ever would be as she began to write down information she needed to gather before moving forward with any plots.

Who is the Sinclair pack’s leader? Is there anyone in the family who might know more? More pressing than that, is it possible to force a transformation outside of the full moon? The last one weighed on her like a bullet-proof vest. The new moon had been just the previous night, and it would be a small chunk of time before the next full one. At the bottom of the page, in smaller font, she wrote one last question. Who is Enid Sinclair?

Now that the words were free from rattling around in her brain like a jar full of thumbtacks, Wednesday was able to take a breath and ease the tension from her brow. She sat there for a minute longer before getting ready for bed and tucking into the soft black comforter. The quiet calls of nocturnal monstrosities and the sound of wind soon caressed her into sleep, even as she could sense the rest of the family still awake in the living room.

_________

For the first time in what feels like years, Enid finally slept through the whole night without waking up. She’d changed before bed but still wore the dark blazer tight around her shoulders like a security blanket, rubbing her hands over the soft fabric, and allowing the mint smell to clear her head and send shivers down her spine. Golden sunlight filtered in through the windows that drew beams of light in tight rectangles on the floor. With a long and loud stretch, Enid could feel her joints cracking and settling back into place before she groaned one last time and settled into the comfy bed.

After about ten minutes, the sad song of a mourning dove finally grabbed her consciousness and dragged it back to the waking world. The smell of coffee wafted in from around the frame of the door, so thick and delicious she could almost see the caramel ribbons floating through the air to her nose like in an old cartoon.

The blonde took a little time to grab a new outfit from the wardrobe, patting it as she walked to the bathroom to change and get ready for the day. Simpler today, she was given a lavender long sleeve shirt with a low collar, white jeans, and the orange hiking boots once again.

“Enid, Malachi!” Esther shouted from down the hall.

“Coming mom!” she yelled back. With one last look in the mirror she ruffled her hair and wrinkled her nose with a smile and headed out to the kitchen.

“There you finally are, you couldn’t have woken up a bit earlier than this dear?” her mom’s eyebrow arched like a gymnast. Not wanting to start an argument this early, Enid apologized and walked in with her eyes to the floor.

Her parents sat at the small table with mugs in their hand, though her dad’s cup did read ‘oatmeal’ along the side, which was funny to only her probably. Enid poured a cup for herself from the slightly outdated coffee pot on the counter that sputtered every few seconds, then sat down on the opposite side of her mother at the tail of the table.

The coffee was hot, strong, and slightly burnt, but it gave her a little jolt to clear more of the fog in her mind as she took a sip and tasted the bitterness. I wonder if they left some sugar here for us? Malachi walked in a moment later and sat down next to their dad without saying anything, his eyes glazed over and his own hair messed at odd angles.

“You know I love you all so much, and that I only want what’s best for you.” Her mom used that phrase a lot, usually with a strained smile and shaking hands. “But right now we need to do what’s best for the family, all of us, especially you dear,” she gestured with her cup to Enid.

“It’s early Esther, please just say what you mean,” her dad grumbled through his coffee.

“We need to be on their good side, especially that…lovely little Wednesday. The Addams have lawyers that could protect the pack for generations, and trading partners around the world.”

“Yeah, on the black market if you listened to Gomez last night,” Enid added.

“It doesn’t matter where the business comes from, the pack needs money. Since you,” she glared at her daughter, “have cost us so much in treatments and consults.”

“I didn’t even want to go to those stupid appointments! You made me!”

“Either way dear, your condition was the pack’s responsibility. Now you need to pay that forward by making them trust you.” The two women held a short staring contest across the table, both angry, and both wanting to be away from the other. Enid gave first and growled a bit as she took a sip of the coffee again. This time the bitterness seemed almost fitting as she swallowed it, kinda like her pride.

“I’m not taking advantage of them, if that’s what you’re asking. Wednesday and I really hit it off last night, without you needing to stick your nose in it,” she scoffed.

“ENID SINCLAIR!” The older wolf rose from her seat and slammed her hands down on the table. Enid only shrugged and looked away as her mom’s claws popped and scratched the surface of the table, about half as long and sharp as her own painted ones. With a huff the older wolf sat down and pinched the bridge of her nose. Malachi shifted in his seat and tried to catch her eye, almost saying You okay? She nodded and his focus went back to the salt shaker he’d been fiddling with in his lap.

“Please Enid, just for once do something worthwhile for the pack other than hunting squirrels and rabbits,” she sighed. A small pang of guilt stuck into her chest at that, and she stared down into her cup. Awkward silence turned the air into jelly and her dad shifted in his seat with a cough.

“Are we going to the Addams’ place now or later?” Enid’s voice was soft.

“Corvus said they would have food for every meal we wanted to have with them,” her dad cut in.

“Yes, fine, we’ll go now. Go get anything else you need and get in the truck,” Esther finished and quickly stood to put her cup in the sink.

A few minutes later, their parents were sitting in the cabin of the truck while Enid and her older brother were on the back with their legs hung off the edge of the flat bed as they rolled down the dirt road, bouncing up and down while the truck rolled over each bump. She couldn’t hear what her parents were saying over the roar of the engine, but she guessed by her mom’s flying hands that she was on another rant about how much of a let down she was.

“Hey,” Malachi said, tapping on her arm. Even though he was almost six years older than her, he held himself so small he could almost pass as the younger of them both. Their gaze met and she sighed like a dramatic teenager.

“What Mal?”

“Don’t antagonize her E, it’s just gonna make everything worse.” Malachi’s blue eyes shot to the cabin and then went back to staring at the ground. “You don’t know what she really wants.”

“Make what worse?” She rolled her eyes, “she’s always this bad.”

__________

Wednesday was in the kitchen making her second americano of the day when the wolves pulled up the driveway. Most of her family was still asleep and resting like corpses in bed on account of the fact that they were near nocturnal creatures most nights, she’d grown up in a family where sleeping until past noon was the norm. The Sinclair’s arriving this early meant their family chose not to subscribe to the same ideology.

The only other person she’d seen awake this early in the day had been Corvus, and he had left the house about 2 hours ago with a bandolier of knives strapped around his chest and a tool belt around his waist, stating that he had duties to attend to on the northern edge of the property regarding some Urayuli.

She stepped outside to greet them in a pair of black docs, dark jeans, and a gray mock neck top with sleeves that almost covered her thumbs. Her hair had been returned to the usual twin braids that rested on each shoulder. While they piled out of the vehicle, Wednesday stepped up to the truck.

“I’m afraid nobody else on the premises is awake yet, aside from my cousin. He should return within the hour. He took the appetite of werewolves into account and there are omelet ingredients as well as sausages waiting in the kitchen.”

“How thoughtful! We’ll have to thank him when he gets back!” Wednesday had to temper the hot steel in her chest before looking at the overly chipper woman.

“Where’d he go so early?” Enid asked as she stepped up in front of the raven. Once again Wednesday was taken back by the girl, knowing what she needed to tell her but doubting she could do so without eviscerating her mother like a wild beast.

“Trouble with one of the more intelligent creatures on the land, he didn’t elaborate beyond saying he may find himself covered in either blood or ash if it went wrong.”

Murray and Esther shared a strange look before the man shrugged and was leading the charge towards the kitchen. She nodded to them as they passed, and then tilted her head for Enid to follow her.

“I’m heading to the stables to check on Asmodeus if you’d like to join me.”

“Oh my god, yes! I wanna scratch his big face and see if he purrs!” she beamed.

“If not from that, I did hear him purring yesterday after a fresh kill,” Wednesday quipped as she started down the dusty road to the stables.

“I’d really prefer not to get covered in blood this early, but I want to hear that purr so bad!” __________

As soon as they reached the stables, Enid couldn’t even try to stop herself as she squealed and ran straight up to the huge horses locked behind doors with dark iron bars. Each one came closer and sniffed the air from around her as she came up in front and almost reached her hand inside before Wednesday’s own hand was wrapped around her wrist like a snake and pulled her away slowly.

“While ordinarily I’d enjoy watching someone lose a few fingers or even a hand, I would prefer that you didn’t.” The psychic’s onyx eyes peered into her with a silent demand.

“What do you mean? Horses are gentle, they don't bite that hard.”

“Perhaps not a normal horse, no. But remember where you are and smell the air, what scent comes from their stalls?” Enid took a step closer to the mare in front of her and took a deep breath in, then had to cover her nose and move a few feet away. It smelled like carrion and death, it reminded her of wandering the forest around the compound back home and finding an old carcass.

“That’s so gross, who feeds a horse meat?” Her nose wrinkled and Wednesday deadpanned.

“They originate from an old Greek myth, and have a penchant for violence I can appreciate,” she smirked before it turned into a full on psychotic grin and she held up a finger to beckon Enid to follow. They walked down a short concrete ramp with heavy wooden doors at the bottom, and the werewolf’s sensitive hearing could make out the sounds of growling and mixed snores coming from inside. “This is where my cousin keeps the more dangerous of his domesticated pets. Again, don’t get too close to the bars.”

“Man-eating horses aren’t dangerous enough for you guys?” She joked.

“Not by half.”

Her blue eyes flew open wide and she nodded before Wednesday pressed a stone to the lock and the doors swung open with a long and high squeak for them. The smell of meat was still there, but more like the candles she kept at home. Fresh beef, pork, chicken, and the acidic smell of…cat? Ew.

The blonde poked her head just inside and looked at each cage, most of them were too dark to see what was inside, but towards the end on the right she could hear a low mewling while a black paw batted at the bars. Wednesday walked into the room a few steps before she realized that Enid wasn’t following, and stopped to wait for her.

Something inside Enid, deep inside her bones and chest, was telling her to stop and leave right now. Dangerous predators, even to a werewolf, were locked up inside here. The smell of murky water and seaweed hit her from the cage straight to the right and had her hair standing on end.

“Are you coming or not?” Wednesday huffed.

“Um, yeah. Give me a sec here, can you see if the cage on the right has something looking at me?” The goth rolled her eyes and stepped up to the bars without even waiting and then came back to wave Enid out. She nodded and followed, barely keeping a whine from escaping as she looked inside again.

“There’s just a nixie. Scared of pretty women?” Enid knew she was being teased, but didn’t want to really miss out on a shot of coming out without actually coming out to her.

“Pretty women? Yes. Pretty women that don’t like the way a wolf smells and can drown me? Double yes.” Pretty gothic psychics who like creepy things? Triple yes.

“I’ll file that away for future reference,” Wednesday hummed.

“Huh?” Enid’s blush returned to her ears as she realized that the cold feeling had returned to her mind before she had answered.

“Nothing. Come see, she’s all locked up tight and is quite incapable of drowning you.”

While that was true, it didn’t settle the feeling in her chest all that much. The nixie was crouched at the edge of a deep pool that spanned all but a small landing near the cage door, hands on the bars as she batted her eyelashes at the pair and blew a kiss. Her hair was an ice cold blue that easily matched her paper white skin, sharp ears almost wrapped around the back side of her head, and a grin of needle-like teeth popped onto the fae’s face as they got closer.

Enid decided to not linger there any longer, taking hold of Wednesday’s wrist this time and pulling them both to the center of the large room. They both stood there for a moment, looking around at the large creatures as they slept inside their cages, and she felt the cold touch against her mind once again.

“Come, I’ll introduce you,” Wednesday relented as Enid released her grip. Her black boots were clunky and big, but each step on the stone floor was almost silent as she moved towards the end cage Enid had seen before.

Asmodeus was curled up in a ball against the bars of his cage as they approached, and stood once he looked up to see Wednesday there. His large black head rubbed against the bars and a deep purr echoed around the room when the shorter woman reached out with her fingers and rubbed a spot between his eyes. Enid melted at the purr and held up a hand of her own as her friend nodded, and began rubbing just behind the velvety soft ears.

Most of the time she’d seen Wednesday so far, it was with no expression at all or a slightly manic one. But now Enid noticed as the psychic’s eyes softened at just the edges and one corner of her mouth twitched upward. She took the time to look over and really look at the girl, making sure to take note of each little twitch and shift of her body language as she continued to absolutely pamper the large black cat with stoic love.

They stayed there for a while, even going into the cage and lying against Asmodeus’ large back as she chuffed and purred while Wednesday pulled small bits of sausage wrapped in a paper towel from her pocket and hand fed him. When those pitch black eyes met her own and she held up a hand with a piece of sausage in it for Enid to feed him as well, she decided nothing could make this day go bad.

__________

They were almost back to the house, kicking up dust from the road and chatting about their old schools when Corvus came stomping over the hill just to their right. Enid smiled and waved to him as wide as she could to get his attention, but her face fell when she saw his white linen shirt had a dark red spot that trailed down the sleeve on his right arm.

Wednesday stopped in her tracks and waited with her hands folded in front of her, Enid fidgeting to stay still just to her right. She was worried, and who could blame her, family members appearing from the plains covered in blood wasn’t a normal thing for the Sinclair’s unless a full moon was coming up.

But as he got closer, she became more scared of him than for him. The leather strap across his chest was empty, dark soot covered his fingers, his normally tied back hair was loose and blowing in the wind like a funeral shroud, and a single large tooth was clutched in his right hand so tight the knuckles were white. But even Wednesday took a sharp breath in when he was close enough to finally see his eyes.

The tar pits she’d gotten a little used to were gone, it was like the blackness had drained from his actual eyes into circles of black surrounding them and left behind glowing green irises filled with anger. He didn’t say a word, just motioned for them to follow once he reached the road and stalked back to the house ahead of them.

“Are you okay?” Enid asked, moving a bit closer.

“Yes. Gather everyone in the library and lock the doors Wednesday.”

“As you command, cousin.” Her tone was back to the regular flatness.

“Wait, what’s going on? I get that you’re psychic and all, but I can’t read minds!” Panic was rising in her chest and her breathing came shallower.

“Someone’s broken into my land and killed my Urayuli. I’m going on a hunt.”

#wednesday #wednesday fanfic #wenclair au #wenclair #ao3 #ao3 update #fanfiction #fanfic

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purplesurveys · 1 year

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1600

Are you going to be busy tomorrow? Not at all. I don’t have to report to work until January 4th, so the next week and a half is just gonna be filled with naps and maybe binge-watching sessions here and there. And 5x the coffee I would normally drink, hehe.

What was the last topic you read about on Wikipedia? The plot to Good Will Hunting. I was watching it earlier with my parents but it’s been a while since I last saw it, so I looked up the plot just so I knew what scenes are coming. Such a good fucking movie.

Have you ever donated money to Wikipedia? I haven’t.

Is your country part of the Commonwealth? It is not.

Around what time of the year do you start your Christmas shopping? I start in mid-November, then I kinda just work in weekly batches from there. For online orders I make sure all my orders are in a week before Christmas to give enough breathing room for shipping; but in the case of presents I can buy at the mall I usually save them for last and just brave the Dec 22-24 crowds lol.

Do you have blinds or curtains on your windows? I have these pull-down blinds that I want to replace with blackout curtains. But for now, they do the job.

What are the most common birds you'd see around your home? Just the maya. Sometimes I’ll spot crows and doves.

Did you sleep well last night? Very well. I passed out as soon as we got home; I got so little sleep in the last two days. But since yesterday was the last family gathering we had to go to, sleep felt so much sweeter knowing we didn’t have to go anywhere else and socialize for 8-12 hours anymore lol.

Did you live within walking distance of school when you were a kid? Not at all. My grade school/high school was in the upper part of the city, i.e. on top of a mountain; there was no way I could’ve walked to it. The Philippines also isn’t a very walkable city in general – you need cars to get to anywhere.

What board games did you play when you were growing up? Nothing too varied. Scrabble was a favorite.

Do you know any sign language? Just certain words here and there. I definitely can’t communicate fluently.

When was the last time you bought new clothes? What did you get? Last week. I was buying clothes for Hans when I ended up spotting this oversized fit t-shirt that I really liked, so I got that for myself too lol. What, other than books, do you have on your bookshelves? My room is in the middle of a renovation so I currently do not have a bookshelf, but the shelves on my TV stand (closest thing I’ve got to a bookshelf) are home to most of my K-pop merch. Do you ever watch streamers on Twitch? Nah. I tried getting into it a few times but the platform is just not for me. How close are your nearest neighbours? It’s just the house right next to ours. Healthy distance and we don’t have to worry about them overhearing our convos or being creeps, but it’s right next to ours nonetheless.

Has your house ever been broken into? How did you find out? No. That is one of my biggest fears.

What do you usually eat for breakfast? Iced coffee.

What's the first thing your hand touches if you reach to the left? My chair. Describe your favourite mug or cup. It’s just a bronze Starbucks cup. Nothing too special.

If you could teleport to any country right now for a holiday, what would it be? South Korea.

Are you overwhelmed right now? Naw, I’m as relaxed as relaxed can be. I’ve really needed this break.

Did you share a bedroom with someone when you were growing up? I shared a room with my entire family - parents, two siblings - until I was 10, which was when we moved out of our extended family’s duplex. My parents also attempted to have me and my sister share a room since our new house only had three rooms; eventually they just had the balcony rebuilt as an extra bedroom for my brother, while my sister and I got our own rooms.

Have you ever had anything dry cleaned? I don’t think so.

How many group chats are you in? Do you participate in them much? Must be anywhere in the 30-50 range. Filipinos love their group chats; we make one for pretty much anything that involves >2 people.

What's the best concert you ever went to? Paramore, 2018.

Do you like to watch subtitled movies? Yes. Everything I watch has to have subtitles, even if it’s in English. I fucking hate it when actors mumble and I end up missing sentences lol.

Are you still in touch with any of your exes? Gross. No.

How old were you when the first American Pie movie came out? 1.

Do you know how to change the oil in a car? What about a flat tyre? I don’t know how to do either. Which is why when we were hit with a flat tire on our way back to Manila last weekend, I only did what any Gen Z would do - post and smile with the said tire LOL What do you do for work? I work in public relations and work with several high-profile clients.

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kinetic-elaboration · 2 years

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September 9: Royal Tea

The amount of angst I experienced over this period of a little more than 24 hours without Internet, I can’t even describe. In my defense, it wasn’t so much not having internet as not being sure when it might come back or what to do or what was wrong with it. I still don’t know. I fought with it for almost 2 hours today after work then unplugged everything, then took a long nap, then woke up and plugged everything back in, turned it all back on, and it worked. Did my actions solve the problem or did it resolve on its own? Who knows.

Anyway, here’s my story about the Queen dying. My supervisor at work was recently in Scotland (a well-timed trip because if she’d gone this week, everything would have been quite closed I’m sure) and she is big into English history and rather fond of the monarchy or at least some parts of it, so she bought this tin of Jubilee tea while she was over there, primarily for the tin. She’s a tea drinker but considers plain black tea, which this was, “boring” and the tin had 50 tea bags and she didn’t think she’d ever drink that much straight black tea. So she gave me one to try, because I love black tea, and I was drinking it yesterday as that day’s Work Tea. It was interesting... I don’t know how I feel about it yet. It felt like some parts were too strong/bitter and other parts too weak. I think it might go well with lemon though.

So I was drinking this Queen Tea yesterday, is the point. When at my desk, I can’t really see the news, unless I search for it or for something specific, but in the front of the library by the Circ desk we have a TV that is usually playing CNN with the subtitles on and the sound off, and I often walk around the library doing things like shelving or filing or routing or sometimes just stretching my legs, and sometimes I walk by the Circ desk specifically to glimpse the news. And at one point yesterday, I walked by and saw the headline QUEEN DIES or whatever way they put it and I was straight slack jawed about it. I’d seen a bit of a headline of her in the hospital earlier but honestly she was 96 so I feel like being in the hospital is kinda non-news, and then she was just gone. And then they started talking about King Charles and I was like ‘pass on that please.’ Also, I feel like this is an unpopular take on this platform, and I don’t say it in any sort of respectful way really because I actually have no strong feelings about this at all--but he is really King immediately? Like you’re not gonna take any breather at all? You can’t go one day without a monarch? Again, I don’t mean this to sound like I care about disrespect to the Queen but it seems like people who do care should slow their roll. That’s all. Like it was literally all one headline “Queen’s off, King Charles running to throne.”

In equally exciting news, had a staff lunch today, where we talked a little about this world news, and mostly discussed one of my co-worker’s early working life in a factory. Which is more interesting to me actually!

#the year 2022 #2022: rl

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annieintheaair · 29 days

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Love is everything it's cracked up to be.

Greeting passengers just might be my least favorite part of my job. Usually, I’m ignored. People don’t say hi back, smile, or even acknowledge me. That is unless I’m flying to Oklahoma. Tulsa people especially reply and even ask how you are. Most of the time, I reply saying I’m good or alright but what if I said fine or worse, “I could be better.” I mean, how would anyone respond? Sometimes I feel like this job makes me a liar, constantly leading people to believe that I’m doing well when I’m not. I hate having to put on a face when inside I'm hurting.

Last night, I even put on red lipstick, thinking that if I felt like I looked put together, maybe I'd feel put together. In all truth though, it didn't really work but I was happy to be working with my friend, Jackie.

While passengers boarded and deplaned last night and this morning, I tried to hand out compliments. Maybe one complement would make their day better; maybe they were hurting inside too and a few kind words made them feel better.

One of the maintenance guys in Tulsa always meets our flights when we arrive at night. In the morning, even if we don't see him, he has a pot of coffee brewed and a sweet note letting us know what time he brewed the coffee and wishing us a good day. The back of the card says something about kindness and passing it on. Last night, when I was chatting with him during deplaning, I made sure to let him know how much we appreciate what he does and I think it made his night. His face lit up and I felt for a moment that even if I couldn't make my own day better, maybe I could make someone else's.

There was an elderly couple in my cabin on one of my flights during my trip and I looked at them, holding hands, wondering how long they had been together. Had they faced issues before? Or was their relationship smooth sailing? Do you ever get to the point in a relationship, even when you're married, where you no longer fear the other person leaving you? After 50 years or so together, do you just know that they'll never desert you? I'm not sure that I'll ever find out the answer to those questions for myself.

I was home by 7am this morning, which was nice since it was much earlier than normal. There wasn't even traffic. I did some work for my side job and then laid on the couch with the dogs to take a nap and watch TV before yoga. I even read some of my devotionals.

Yoga today was better than yesterday. Stephanie always does a good restorative class and it was just what I needed. Even though I was annoyed with the parking situation, I was glad I went. I thought about going to Trader Joe's or Costco afterward but then realized that the crowds would likely be bad and decided it was better to just go home.

I haven't felt good all week. I felt crappy on Saturday morning and have been worse since. I tried to eat yogurt this morning and even that made me feel nauseous. It has been a week mostly spent on my couch napping. I'm trying to tell myself that that's ok because sometimes that's what we need but I'm not 100% sure right now.

Breakups are hard, especially when you know you loved (and still love) the other person so much. How do you get to 50 years or so with someone, like the couple on my flight, and still want to be with them and fight for the relationship every day? I remember with other guys I've dated in the past that I'd get annoyed at them being there too much.

As much as I enjoyed my time with James, I remember one fight we had where I finally told him that I needed him to go work somewhere else on Tuesdays and Wednesdays when I was off because he was in the way of me getting things done. It was kind of nice when he would venture out to play golf with his friends or take a weekend trip down to San Antonio to visit his parents.

Of course, I don't always talk about the shitty times with him, because I think in the end we like to see things with rose-colored glasses, but ironically, it was Halloween weekend that year when we got into a fight on our way to San Antonio to visit his parents. He wouldn't stop for breakfast tacos before leaving Dallas and I was so hungry. We stopped for gas and I was so mad that I said I didn't even want to go on the trip and he offered to turn around and go back home. We ended up going anyway and eventually stopped at Jersey Mike's in Waco. It turned out to be a great weekend but I probably would have enjoyed a weekend at home without him. The ironic part of this is that yes, I do get hangry when I want to eat and am denied food.

Even with Dan, we knew that we both needed space from time to time. We'd hang out with our own friends separately sometimes and it just worked for us.

This time felt different for me. I felt like even though we had the weekends, it was never enough. I hated when Monday came and I had to go home and be away from him for days again. I was really looking forward to moving back up there to be able to be with him more often. My whole week felt sad and lonely without him and I literally lived for Fridays. This Friday just feels extra sad and lonely.

Years ago, when I was hanging out with Joe (we weren't dating), I remember telling Dan about him and he was immediately like, "Nope nope nope. You deserve better. He's not good enough and he's too old." As it turned out, Dan was right. Joe was never someone I could be with and I wasn't even upset when we stopped hanging out because I just knew he was so self-absorbed. Sometimes, I wish Dan could call me on the phone and tell me those things again to make me feel better. He always wanted the best for me.

During the years after Dan and I broke up (and even the times between our relationships in college), we'd be texting or he would call me and he would say, "So, you're saying there's still a chance?" At the time, I laughed and told him absolutely not. Sometimes, I wish I had given him one more chance before he died because, after nearly 15 years, he was the one person who never gave up. Deep down, I know that it never would have worked with him, and sadly, the only way I was ever able to move on was because I had no other choice when he passed away. I had so much guilt and regret in my heart from letting go of someone who cared so much. We had been through a lot together but always forgave each other and realized that even if in the end, all we could be was friends, at least we knew that we had that one person in our lives who really knew us -- each other.

After he passed away, I felt like I'd never be able to even consider meeting anyone or putting myself out there again. The pain of losing him from this earth ripped my heart apart.

Nearly a full year after Dan died though, I thought I had finally found happiness again, and I was so sure that I did. While the love I had for Dan would never go away completely, the love I grew for this new person was something that just felt so much better and different. I felt like I had finally found my new best friend and every day felt better with them in it. I loved the good morning and goodnight texts and the check-ins throughout the day. I loved how he was there for me, made me laugh, and was always down to check out all of the new places and events that we found. I loved having that person for all of the adventures and was looking forward to so many more.

To say my heart is broken now is the understatement of the century.

I'm not sure if I've ever posted it here before but my favorite quote, by Erica Jong, which I actually made my high school yearbook quote was this:

Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.

I remember discovering that quote when I was younger, and clearly knew nothing about love. While I'm no love expert now, I still really believe in that quote. Love is hard work and it's a choice that you make every day. The couple on my flight clearly makes that choice every morning when they wake up and with whatever fights they may have.

The thing is, I know I made some mistakes and I think there was a lot of misunderstanding due to communication issues but I know I love him and I'd do anything to be able to fix it at this point. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more. I feel like not taking the risk of working through it at this point is the bigger risk. While losing Dan was hard, it's even harder to lose someone that's still here. Love is effort and commitment, and it is 100% hard work. What I wrote on Facebook may have been unintentionally hurtful, but I do believe that it's important to be with someone who means it when they say they love you. I don't know about him but I do know that I meant every word I said-- I did, and still do, love him.

Erica Jong was right-- if you don't take that risk for love, you risk even more.

xoxo

Annie

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dorefasolsido · 2 months

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41.

1~ What quality do you value most highly in others?

Definitely stuff like emotional intelligence and warmth because I struggle with this stuff myself. I have a very hard time connecting with people on that level and when I see someone do it so effortlessly (and genuinely), I'm always really impressed.

2~ Are you more aggressive or mellow?

Mellow. I'm very conflict-avoidant.

3~ Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you?

My parents, surely.

4~ Do you take any vitamins or medication?

Not really regularly, no.

5~ Do you want to grow old with someone?

Yes, with my best friend. I want us to stay like this forever. I don't care about growing old with a partner though, I don't think such a thing is for me at all.

6~ Do you treat others better or worse than yourself and why?

I think I treat others better because I'm one hell of a people pleaser sometimes, always worried that others might drop me if I don't try my best. But I can't technically drop myself, so...

7~ What sound is annoying you right now?

Nothing's really annoying me right now.

8~ Where was your last vacation to?

Transylvania, Dracula's castle.

9~ Where was your last car ride to?

To a restaurant earlier in the afternoon, we went for a family lunch.

10~ Where did you last walk to?

Uhh, upstairs to my bedroom.

11~ What gives you a peaceful feeling?

Driving down an empty straight road at night when there are barely any cars and no people on the streets. Only me, my music, and city lights.

12~ Are you a light sleeper?

So-so, it used to be worse.

13~ When you sleep next to someone who usually falls asleep first?

Usually the other person does, just because it takes me forever to fall asleep unless I'm really exhausted.

14~ How many people have a piece of your heart?

I don't know, a couple.

15~ What do your salt and pepper shakers look like?

We don't keep salt and pepper in shakers.

16~ When was the last time you hurt yourself?

I don’t remember.

**continued from who knows when :D**

17~ Would you rather live in the city, suburbs or the country?

I'm a city person, or at the very least suburbs. I grew up in a small town and can't imagine ever returning to one for good--not while I'm young anyway. There's really nothing to do there and every day looks exactly the same. I need some vibrancy, some activity, otherwise I feel like I'm suffocating.

18~ Have you ever built something?

Yes, houses in Sims.

19~ Are you more of a maker and giver, or a taker and user?

A little bit of both, I think.

20~ Do you take naps?

Not normally, unless I pull an all-nighter. I function on very few hours of sleep without much difficulty.

21~ Do you buy holiday gifts early or at the last minute?

Lol I never do anything early, it's something I've been struggling for years. Everything's always last minute.

22~ Do you laugh when there is no joke and dance when there is no music?

I'm sure it has happened before?

23~ If someone else were to describe you what would you hope they would say?

That I'm a meaningful person in their life who is fun and easy to talk to. I never feel like any of this is true, so of course, it would be nice to hear it from someone else. I might not really believe it, but still.

24~ What is the dirtiest habit you can think of?

Hmmmmmm nothing comes to mind right now.

25~ Do you ever need ‘quiet time’?

Yeah, and I get plenty of it, working from home and all. Thing is, I need quiet time for myself, which is something I haven't had much of lately. Like, it's quiet, but there's always 50 billion things to do. I hate adulthood ;-;

26~ Do you think it is harder for a parent to outlive their child or for the child to outlive their parent?

Probably the former, though I feel a pit in my stomach whenever I imagine my parents not being around.

27~ What was your best find from a flea market, garage sale, ebay or thrift?

Well I have been to flea markets before, but tbh I don't remember at all.

28~ What is one selfish thing you tend to do?

Eat the entire chocolate instead of leaving half for my sister when she's not at home.

29~ What kinds of people do you find intimidating?

Tbh, no one in particular. Like, people who really have their shit together can be a little unsettling, but then again, I probably come across like that to some people too and that's not the case at all.

30~ Out of everyone you know who has the most unique personality?

Chris hands down. I like to befriend unconventional people, but Chris is just, I don't know where to begin to describe his personality. Sometimes it feels like he genuinely just came to visit from Mars.

31~ When do you do your best thinking?

In the shower. Running water of any kind inspires me.

32~ What was a choice that you didn’t want to make but you had to?

Well, shutting out a certain someone from my life. It was a very hard choice at the time, but yeah, I had to.

33~ Have you ever written a letter to a soldier?

I don't know any soldiers.

34~ What does your favorite coffee mug look like?

Umm, it's black with some orange Halloween motif.

35~ What age do you think it is most difficult to be?

Well I haven't lived through all the ages yet, so it may be a little hard to tell, but so far teen years and mid-to-late twenties take the cake.

36~ Do you think you could handle a day in jail?

Yeah, it's a day. Even if it's absolutely dreadful, I could handle it.

37~ Who is the most overbearing person you know?

I'm actually not sure.

38~ Have you ever been on a trampoline?

Yup, not too long ago either.

39~ What do you use batteries for the most often?

Remotes.

40~ Would you prefer to wrap your own presents or have them all gift wrapped?

I like wrapping presents (tho we don't usually wrap them here anyway), but if there were many, I'd have them wrapped. I'm really slow with arts and crafts.

#personal #surveys

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marsmarvel02 · 2 months

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"What Manny Can't Fix" Review: Chapter 2

Welcome back to my review/roasting of a bizarrely long and quite bad Handy Manny fanfic I stumbled across one day!

Under the cut, we're covering the fic's second chapter, which starts... rather weirdly.

The first part of my review can be read here.

Chapter Management

Wha?

Edit Chapter

Huh?

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Was this copy-pasted from somewhere?

Turner woke up and yawned, as he stretched out his back. “That was a good nap.” He looked around and caught a glimpse of the clock: 2 PM.

Geez, how long did Turner stay up last night if he was tired enough to nap for that long?

“Huh. Mr Grover should’ve come back by now.” Turner said, slightly worried. Turner propped himself up and bounced over to where the toolbelt was laying earlier. “Hey guys, do you know where Mr Grover i-”

Turner stopped dead in his tracks. The toolbelt was gone. “Guys?” He hopped to the other end of the table. “Guys this isn’t funny, where are you!? Guys! Guys!”

He got off the table and kept looking around. “Plunker? Claspy? Bolt? Mr Grover? Where are you?”

TBLT vibes are rapidly rising. And Toy Story vibes too.

They… they didn’t leave without me, did they? Oh, don’t be silly Turner! How could they leave without you? You are their star tool after all. They’d be nothing without you!....Still…..

Turner headed over to the front door, peering out the glass pane. Outside he could see the road with a few cars parked on the side, but no sight of Mr Grover’s truck.

He sighed and leaned against the door. Well...they’ll realize they forgot me, right? Then they’ll come back. Yeah! They’ll come back! I just have to stay here… and wait….

As Turner stayed there, leaning against the door, his eyelids started to droop again. He yawned slightly and relaxed. I guess another little nap won’t hurt. Besides by the time I wake up, I’ll probably be nice and cozy in my toolbox again! Yep! Nothing to worry about.

Geez, did he get any sleep last night?!

Once again, Turner dozed off, while putting his full weight against the creaky old door.

Back at the workshop-

The tools thought it was oddly peaceful and quiet that day but hadn’t yet realized why.

- Mr Grover groaned as he slammed his toolbelt back on the table, waking up his tools.

So they were also up all last night?

He took another swig of his coffee before heading back to his workbench. “Maybe I’m just getting too old for this...It might be time to retire.”

“Retire!?” Plunker asked in shock, shimmying out of the toolbelt. “What do you mean retire!?”

Mr Grover set down the coffee cup and looked at Plunker, exhausted. He sighed, “Listen, Plunker. We’ve been doing this for 20 years, and I’m nearing 50. I don’t think I can keep up with the repairs….mentally and physically. I think it’s time to hang up the ol’ toolbelt and retire. Florida sounds nice.”

Fun fact: Before it was changed in 2008, the official state anthem of Florida was called “Old Folks At Home”.

“Florida?” Plunker asked. “But...that’s so far away from San Diego..:”

So this story is taking place in California?

“I know.” He sighed. “But I need to get away.”

Claspy and Bolt, hearing the arguing headed over.

“What’s going on?” Claspy asked.

“Mr Grover’s thinking of retiring.” Plunker said.

“And you didn’t think to ask us how we felt about that!?” Claspy snapped.

Mr Grover groaned, grabbing his forehead. “I was only thinking about it out loud. I don’t even know if I’m going to retire yet or not!”

Yeah, right.

“I’m sure hot shot wouldn’t like suddenly being thrown off his throne.” Claspy said, rolling her eyes. “Would you?”

She turned around, but was surprised to see Turner wasn’t there. “Hot Shot?”

Claspy turned to Bolt and Plunker. “Where’s Hot Shot?”

“I dunno.” Bolt said. “Isn’t he in the toolbelt?”

“No.” Claspy shook her head.

“Did you check?” Bolt asked.

“No, but…”

“Then go check!”

Claspy groaned. “No. I know he’s not in there! He wasn’t in there before and he isn’t going to be in there now!”

Huh?

“Turner’s gone!?” Plunker gasped. She headed over to the toolbelt to check for herself. “Turner! Turner!”

As she’d feared, the toolbelt was empty. Plunker hurried back over to the others. “Mr Grover! Turner’s gone! I think he got left behind!”

Mr Grover exhaled deeply. “Of all the things going on today….my screwdriver had to get left behind too? Great….just great…”

“We need to get him!” Plunker said, clearly worried.

“Why?” Claspy asked. “We can just get a less rude one...that is if Mr Grover doesn’t retire…”

CLASPY!

(Just like that weird OOC scene with Radio in TBLT2…)

Plunker leaned down the pliers level.-

Missing apostrophe!

- “We can’t just abandon him! He’s part of our team!” She stood up and faced her owner. “Right, Mr Grover?”

He scratched his chin, avoiding eye contact with Plunker. “Well….she does have a point.”

So, this fanfic is trying to pull a TBLT plot that doesn’t work since the humans know about the tools’ sentience by making everyone a jerk.

“Mr Grover!” Plunker yelled. “We can’t leave him there all alone! We need to get him back!”

Except Plunker.

“All right, all right! If you’ll stop yelling then, fine !” He groaned, grabbing his toolbelt. “Come on, let's get back to the shop before it gets dark out.”

And lemme guess: By the time they get there, Turner will have given up waiting and set out for the repair shop on his own.

Plunker hopped in, but the other two stayed on the countertop.

“Aren’t you coming?” Plunker asked.

“Nah.” Bolt said.

“Yeah, Hot Shot’s gonna babble on and on about how we “abandoned” him or something like that.” Claspy said. “I don’t wanna have to sit through that.”

Plunker sighed slightly. “Fine….” She looked at Mr Grover. “We better hurry.”

Mr Grover headed to his truck and drove off, back in the direction of the store.

This chapter is short enough that I considered having this post contain Chapter 3 as well, but Chapter 3 is long in terms of the amount of text and even longer in terms of how much it seems to drag on, so that one definitely needs its own post, which you can now read.

#marsmarvel02 does a review #review #fanfiction review #bad fanfic review #handy manny #what manny can't fix review

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dreamerwriternstargazer · 2 months

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Okay so I’ve been going through mental hell the entire day

I fell asleep after getting home because I just

Wasn’t capable of watching something yet

Since waking up I’ve prayed and managed to eat Iftar and then prayed Magrib

And since then I have been stuck sitting on my bed and I think maybe I need to vent this out

Tw: PTSD symptoms/trauma and mental health discussion

Okay!

So this is what I mean when I say PTSD is a physical disability (and this is my experience it’s probably mixed somewhat with whatever other issues I have)

No sleep! Lack of sleep!

Mental noise

(Wait it gets worse)

Flashbacks to traumatic events

Can’t stand or walk

Can’t breathe (I’m literally having to remind myself right now every 20 seconds to BREATHE)

Throwing up

Cold symptoms! Yes you can work your entire body into a faux fever doing this! Currently I’m shivering shaking and rocking while it feels like my veins are turning into fire

Headaches

Can’t think due to mental noise - hence can’t function

I’ve attempted to eat but that has a 50/50 chance of coming back up as I mentioned before and typically you lose your appetite anyway!

A LOT of crying (only I am such a repressed person I get an overdose of the other symptoms and no crying)

Hallucinations!

Extreme exhaustion (read: nap earlier)

How are these disabling? In case you haven’t figured it out

You can’t do ANYTHING while dealing with the slew of symptoms here and these can crop up on their own unprompted by environment! I cannot stand breathe or walk, I can’t socialise so I can’t seek help! I can’t go to friends and ask for help! I can’t work! I can’t study! Clean! Can’t take care of my house and space! I can’t speak (somehow I’m managing to write this purely because it’s venting and also text is easier but it’s a lot like screaming inside your own head) I cannot do basic acts of self care all I can do

Is lie here

And scream inside my head :D

I could scream outside of it, the house is empty except for me, but pfft did I mention the repression?

Okay so why am I making this post?

Because I went 22 years before seeing a therapist and have them confirm what I was too polite and repressed to check which is whether I have ptsd or not

I can’t give you a formal diagnosis, hell even my therapist can’t give me one, that comes from a psychiatrist which can mean going through hell and high water

I’m telling you this so that you can know 1. You don’t need a formal diagnosis to get help and 2. If you fit all of these categories and have these symptoms and you DON’T have PTSD, you have some other mental disability?

Screw it it’s still a disability which means you’re still suffering which means you deserve to know YES THAT IS A BROKEN SOMETHING YOU’RE WALKING ON AND YES YOU SHOULD BE SCREAMING SHOUTING AND KICKING IT’S COMPLETELY OKAY AND NORMAL TO RESPOND TO PAIN THAT WAY

You are disabled

Give yourself a break

And I’m writing this for myself a little bit but I’m a stubborn idiot so I don’t listen but I’m hoping if Future Me sees this she remembers it for a future meltdown.

Anyway

If you’re feeling like this if you have any of these symptoms I’m really sorry and here’s a list of things that sort of could possibly help:

Focusing on breathing (in for 6 secs, hold for 7, out for 8)

If you can move, change into your cosiest clothes immediately and get into bed.

Turn on something you love to watch. You don’t need to watch it it just needs to be on, replace the mental noise

Have art or images to look at to help relax, save them for days like this

Huddle up in your bed. Don’t touch the phone, scrolling can only numb or distract but it can’t help you move through the pain

I personally have some physical habits? I don’t know if this works for everyone but I drum my fingers on my temples or I lightly knock on my temples, both sides, while rocking

If you have a stim or some physical habit that soothes, go for it

Try to avoid active self harm, passive (not eating or caring for yourself) is not good but it’s not horrible, you can self care after you reach the other side of the war zone.

Have a code word to text to a trusted friend or family member so they know without much explanation that you are sick (because you are! You are very very sick and it’s amazing you’re still standing and I’m super proud of you for staying alive!)

Remember the self harm tip? If you’re in a way worse position and considering something worse, self harm is fine as suicide prevention. This is a weird and risky thing to say but while it’s not a good coping mechanism and last resort, it is still one and it’s better than ending everything. Please try to exhaust every option before reaching this one

Call in sick. No really, call in sick this is worse than a cold, your own brain is turning against you. If you don’t have the privilege of calling in sick as I so often don’t, make sure someone you trust knows how sick you are (either at work or outside of it) to support you and help you through your day

If you live with family then they take on what you can’t. Cooking, cleaning, if you trust them enough then ask them to take care of you too

Hallucinations? Play something grounding, sleep with the lights on or keep all the lights on, have someone you trust with you (online, irl, family or friend) to ground you. Think Peeta in The Hunger Games, you need your Katniss and Finnick to tell you “real or not real”.

Yes it is horrible and yes some of this can feel humiliating and scary especially being so vulnerable and needing so much help, that’s the sucky part of the disability thing, it’s chronic it’s continuous and I’m sorry babes but we’ve just gotta deal with it and you WILL survive this I promise it’s just gonna hurt a hell of a lot first

#ptsd #ptsd recovery #depression #mental health #disability #disabled #(idk if it counts as recovery but it’s definitely how to cope)

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monday3econlive · 1 year

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Trade-Offs & Opportunity Cost In my Daily Life

Marvin Mendiola

Discussion: Monday 3:00-3:50

Student ID: 46984860

What is opportunity cost?

Opportunity cost is the expense of giving up the next best option while making a choice. In other words, it is the price associated with selecting one option over another and sacrificing the possible advantages of the alternative option.

Example: Making the choice to buy a new car rather than investing your money in stocks is an example of opportunity cost. The potential earnings you could have made on the stock market in this scenario if you had invested your money rather than using it to buy a car is known as the opportunity cost. Instead, the opportunity cost would be the pleasure and convenience you would have received from investing your money in the stock market rather than owning a new car.

How is opportunity cost present in my everyday life?

Everyone in the world faces opportunity costs in their everyday life even if it’s choosing what to eat or deciding whether or not you want to take a nap. I myself face opportunity costs as soon as I wake up in the morning as I have to decide whether or not to wake up to my alarm or sleep in some more. As a result of making this decision I could give up one option and have a different outcome. For instance, if I decide to wake up on time I could be productive with the time and get some homework done, or pretty much anything else I want to do with that time. However, if I decide to ignore my alarm and keep sleeping I give up that time I could’ve spent doing something productive which is the opportunity cost.

After I wake up I get ready and make even more decisions such as what I’m going to wear or even smaller things like what cologne I will use. These are all opportunity costs that are created as I have the opportunity to choose between different options. Following my morning shower I can choose to go eat breakfast at the Anteatery or do some work before I head to my mandatory discussion at 11am. The discussion is mandatory for points so the opportunity cost for this decision has a lot of impact. The opportunity cost of not attending the discussion is losing points which will affect my grade negatively and I will not have knowledge of what was discussed during the discussion. Due to this trade off it is very obvious what decision I make, which is go to class, because if I don’t I’m affected negatively.

After my 11am discussion I start walking back to mesa court to get lunch for the day. During lunch I have many decisions to make and opportunity costs that go along with eating such as what I’m going to eat and how much. I could choose to eat a healthy meal and track my calories which will benefit my body positively or eat whatever I want to without tracking leading to me gaining weight. After lunch I usually head to the gym for about two hours. Here I have the decision of getting ready and going to workout at the arc, or staying at my dorm and taking a nap. The opportunity cost of staying in and taking a nap, is losing fitness progress that could’ve been made if I want to workout. After I come back from the gym which is usually around 6pm I go to the anteatery again for dinner and I pretty much make the same decisions with the same opportunity costs as I did for breakfast/lunch. The time I have after dinner is pretty much my free time so I could choose what I want to do with that time and make decisions that involve different tradeoffs. I could decide to study for classes and catch up on my homework, or I could enjoy the free time and pleasure of doing something such as watching a movie/hanging out with friends. I also have to make the decision of what time I go to sleep which involves several opportunity costs. Say I decide to go to sleep rather early, I wake up in the morning with more energy and most likely earlier. However, if I decide to sleep late like let’s say around 3am, I only get 6 hours of sleep causing me to wake up tired in the morning.

Opportunity Cost Poem

Every morning when I wake,

Opportunities I have to make.

To hit snooze or get up on time,

To be productive or press rewind.

Each choice I make has a cost,

A trade-off, a line I've crossed.

To skip breakfast or track my meals,

To hit the gym or catch some feels.

At every turn, there's a choice,

To listen to my inner voice.

To study hard or have some fun,

To go to bed or stay up 'til dawn.

Each opportunity comes with a price,

A decision made, a roll of the dice.

To gain or lose, to win or fail,

To choose my path or hit the rail.

So every day, I weigh my options,

And choose a path that's free of toxins.

To live my life with purpose and care,

And make the most of the time I share.

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marcholasmoth · 1 year

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OSRR: 3089

i'm gonna have so much to catch up i when i finally watch for the future.

in the meantime, i went to work today! it was nice to be out and doing something. plus i got to see my work friends and socialize a little.

but first, i stopped at starbucks to pick up sustenance. then i went to work and waited and just was chillin for a while. kendall showed up a little late but we got to work on prob and stats for a while, and immediately after that i was whisked away by two friends to go to lunch. we went to blake's because they're closing on saturday, which is really sad, but it's been a long time coming. a local establishment and icon, blake's restaurant in manchester looks like the 70s refurbished the 50s, right down to the restroom sign. thankfully, they'll continue to make and sell their ice cream, but the restaurant location, the last brick-and-mortar store, will close for good on saturday. it's sad, but it's expected. the location in milford closed years ago, which was where i had a lot of memories from my childhood which can never be recreated or relived. (i feel like i kind of went essay mode for a little bit there. but that's how i usually write papers and stuff, that's the tone i use.)

i'm sad about it. oh boy. grief coming out of the recesses of my mind to give me grief. great.

anyway, after lunch we went back to work with enough time for me to pack my things up and leave to go work with the kiddos. i ended up waiting for a little while, so i pulled out my sweatshirt and closed my eyes as i leaned on it against the window. i must've been asleep for ten minutes but i woke up at the exact moment nancy and the kids pulled in the driveway.

i ended up mostly working on things with nancy and creating invoices that look official and shit, but i'm definitely gonna need to change the spacing of some of it. but they're official looking. enough for my tastes, anyway.

i also helped one of the kids with clocks because she's learning analog clocks and those are hard. they took me a long time to get. like, until high school. i could never see them right. now that i think about it, it might've been my eyesight or the untreated adhd that prevented me from reading it clearly. it could've been a lot of things. but i understand where she's coming from. she just needs practice. gotta pay attention to the details and practice. on a related note, i'm fairly certain she's got adhd and her sister is dyslexic. they're doing great, but that's because i know how to help them. i'd do anything for those kids.

after that i came back to joel's and took a goddamn nap. i deserved it. i texted joel saying i was gonna nap for an hour and that i'd set an alarm, and after that text i spent maybe two minutes awake and then i was out like a light, despite talking and light. i needed it badly. earlier in the day before checking how much i slept i could've sworn i'd gotten six or seven hours of sleep and that i only woke up once or twice.

nope.

3 hours 48 minutes. i counted 18 times i woke up.

no wonder i was so fucking exhausted.

anyway, we had our twilight: 2000 game tonight, which is always really fun. i was half paying attention, but my character, named callum cross (after callum from the dragon prince and cross because it was an alliteration) was digging a well. that's what he did. he dug a hole for a couple days. i checked the weather in poland for august of 2000, which is when we are in the game, and the weather was rather temperate but humid as fuck. i don't know if you've ever dug a hole in heat and humidity, but that shit is prime for heatstroke and heat exhaustion. been there, done that. it was a bad time.

anyway, i also bought a few cones of chenille yarn so i have materials for a project i wanna do. i'd like to make a blanket that's miraculous ladybug themed but pastel. i got the colors for it, so that's good, and i got them on sale. that'll be fun.

i also got word today that my diploma will be coming in relatively soon! i'm very excited.

and i decided "why not" to opening my hours for the semester a day early, and within the hour someone had booked an appointment with me for tomorrow around 1pm. i have a doctors appointment for my hand first thing, so i figured i might as well have my day open tomorrow to work, which is why i opened it up early.

anyway, all that being said, i couldn't stop making puns during game tonight and joel was having none of it. it's hilarious how much he hates puns, but then he'll go and make some himself. but only when i'm around. i'm grateful my influence has been this. if getting people to make puns is the only thing i'll ever do, it's been a life-well lived.

so far, so good. it's time for bed now because that appointment is early as fuck.

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #3000s #3080s #sunshine boy

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dzpenumbra · 1 year

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12/31/22

What a weird day. I got woken up really early, like 5 hours of sleep, by a super loud bang from the floor above me. I got up and Max was insisting on getting her food early, so I got her fed and went to refill my water bottle and it smelled like mildew. -_- I hate that, I guess I don't wash it often enough. It's a solid metal water bottle and my genius-ass decided my best course of action - because I couldn't really foresee getting a sponge in there - was to fill it halfway with boiling water. Got a nice burn on my hand from that.

I got a little nap after that, so it wasn't so bad. But I've just been spacey as fuck all day. I think the temp change might be part of it, it was like 50F today. It was 11 last week. Guess this is the "new normal" everyone's talkin about.

I played a bunch of Session today, which was fun. It's been a while, and I noticed I've gotten much better at it, especially compared to my clips from October that I edited earlier this week.

I cleaned up a piece of quartz that I found in a roadcut by my old house. It was one of the more impressive natural points that I've found in the wild. I ended up putting it in my display case coffee table thing I have. Welcome to my life, I have a glass-top coffee table with a sick mineral collection in it, but no seating, no TV, nothing but unpacked boxes on that side of the room. And I've been here for like... well over 2 weeks, I don't even know anymore, time is so fucked for me. Like a month now? I legit can't even estimate.

So, since I'm on that... the big thing from today - besides a bunch of scattered work on stone and jewelry pieces that may never actually be made... - the big thing was that I was super goddamn scattered today. Like... I was all over the place. Like... this is a snapshot of my day. When I got my cat dinner, I noticed that the compost was getting moldy and I really should bring it out. The compost bins are probably... 50 yards out the side door, the side door is like... 30 yards from my apartment. So it's a super quick run out behind the maintenance shed to get it done. And I go... "oh, I can do the trash too, and the cat litter, because that's overdue, it's on the way." And this is as I was making my cat dinner. It took me like... 3 hours to take that compost out. I legit do not have any aversion to the act of taking it out, I just kept getting distracted and sucked into things. "I need to figure out dinner for me", "oh, I need to figure out groceries", "I should work on this art project over here", "I need a shower", "I should probably shower first", "should I cook or get delivery for the 4th night in a row?", "should I order groceries to be delivered?", "I need to do the cat litter first". It was just absolute chaos, one thing after the other. And then I'd just find myself in my computer chair polishing a rock and go "nope, come on, how did you even get here?! You need to go take the compost out, it just takes a minute." And any time I'd go do an intermediate task like cleaning the litterbox, it would like... reset my attention or something. I don't know. It's just been really, really difficult all day.

So, I didn't eat dinner until like 9:30, I just said fuck it and made ramen, which was my backup to my backup for dinner. I originally settled for a quesadilla but my cheese was moldy, a bit more than I was comfortable with. And I tried to get a grocery order in, but like... that was fucking tough. I just can't think straight and I don't have anything planned out at all, my whole list is like a chain of impulse buys. I feel like no matter how hard I try to focus, I just draw a blank when it comes to "what do I want to eat, what do I want to cook, what meals do I want." I think I'm just overloaded, overwhelmed. Or exhausted. Or both. Probably both. It just hasn't been this bad in a long ass time. I shit you not, I was standing in the kitchen doing an Instacart grocery order on my phone with my cat talking to me for at least an hour. And then I got to erase things off my whiteboard list on the fridge, which is a cool feeling. Then I started doodling on the whiteboard for like 20 minutes with my phone in my left hand the whole time. And I was like "dude, okay, you were doing groceries, remember?"

And this is fucking every day. And on tough days like today, I can get so overwhelmed or just... mentally-blocked from everyday tasks that I end up barely even eating, or going a whole day without drinking water. I'll forget that I have to go to the bathroom for like 2 hours and be squirming in my seat without even noticing it. It's a problem. And, to be honest, it makes me feel like a shitty adult. I'm 36. And a lot of these problems feel like problems people have with children or something. I don't know, I'm stopping myself right now because this is not fair to me, I was just super judgmental of myself right there. I'm not doing this shit intentionally, I didn't make this shit this hard for myself. I'm not choosing this path, and the only one who suffers from it is me. So beating myself up over something that's happening to me is a dumb idea, just gonna be blunt on that.

I've been giving people on r/ptsd this advice, it's about time I give it to myself. "Try to be a bit more gentle with yourself."

I know it's the voices of other people in my past just echoing through my head. And I know their voice is probably just an echo of shitty people in their lives, too. It just sucks.

I'm just really hoping this apartment doesn't turn into my last house. Like... ultra-super messy. I haven't vacuumed yet. I put a Swiffer wetmop thing on my grocery order, so I'm setting the stage for it, but like... okay, here's the deal. My shit is still in boxes, man. I don't have furniture. So... I really just need to take a trip to Goodwill or a second-hand furniture store and get whatever I can fit in my rental car. A bookcase, a sturdy work table, a futon, a TV table... a TV... I have a big comfy beanbag chair coming in the mail and I'm insanely stoked about that. I just need to get my shit out of boxes, off the floor and into some form of home... then I can vacuum without running a goddamn obstacle course, and it will feel more natural.

And it would help a lot if I had some kind of perception of time, at least day of the week, so I can have some kind of rhythm around cleaning - rather than noticing shit on the carpet and going "oh fuck, this got bad." I just really need to find a system that works. Because my whole "schedule my day" app thing I was using, that disappeared real quick. And my yoga... that one makes me sad, I loved my yoga time at sunset. I haven't done yoga in like 3 days. All because my former "best friend" who is now a homeless fentanyl trafficker and mother of 5 decided to call me looking for a ride one night, when I thought she was in jail. Now my life is just... kinda starting to stabilize a bit? Little by little?

So yeah, I dunno, I just wanted to get that out of my system and kinda describe what my day-to-day is like, because I kept that shit secret out of shame and guilt for a long ass time. How flighty and messy and disorganized I am, how chaotic my life is. Seriously, it's just absolute chaos most of the time, just like cat food twice a day, caffeine in the morning, sleep ritual of some kind at night, the rest is just... like I'm a leaf riding down whitewater rapids of my thoughts and attention.

My right forearm is hurting, it's because I type wrong, and I type all this every night. It's taking its toll on my arm, especially when I use my mouse a lot during the day too, and/or when I sand stones. The combination is rough. Like the inside half of my pointer finger is numb. I need to do some typing exercises and re-learn how to type properly. But for right now, I'm gonna tap out and go take a bath or something, try to chill before bed.

Oh, the 30 day yoga thing I was gonna do starts on January 1st, so that's a thing. Maybe that will help me find structure. I'll pull that up and try to keep track of it. Glad I remembered that. On that note, happy New Year and all that, if you're celebrating please be safe and don't be stupid like a lot of people I've known throughout my life. I hope we all find a bit more peace, love and compassion this coming year, the world could always use more of that.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts #mental health

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preyforthewicked · 1 year

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Appendix I: Journal Entries

November 19, 2010

2:52 Right now, I just feel like screaming and crying and yelling and hitting something. I don’t feel like myself. God.

3:08 Why does it seem like nothing is going for me today? Nothing particularly bad has happened. I just feel so…strange.

November 22, 2010

7:58 Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

8:49 "Tears streamed down Alexandra's face, but Jay felt no sympathy. He hardly felt feelings for anything anymore."

December 28, 2010

9:21 Wooooooow. I woke up feeling so disoriented this morning. Like, I almost didn’t remember where I was, kind of disoriented. Oh man. Phew, but it’s all better now I suppose. I still feel kind of weird. I’m almost positive it’s because of the dream I had, but for the life of me I can’t remember it ): Ah well.

*Sigh* Time to jump back on this horse, I guess. Grammar and Comp, here I come! *trips and falls into puddle of mud*

12:23 That disoriented feeling I was talking about earlier? Yeah. Still here. I feel like I’m in a limbo-funk or something. I seriously do not know what to feel. Or even what I might be feeling. I’m not majorly pissed, or sad, or happy, or anything. It’s really like…listless. Just uninterested in everything. :/

I feel like lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling until I fall asleep. Or don’t.

February 22, 2012

12:37 Nothing is real. Nothing is permanent.

February 26, 2012

12:01 I’m slipping through the cracks in the sidewalk of my mind.

3:28 I feel empty all of the sudden.

Waking up in four hours or so. Woo.

6:19 Why can’t I fall asleep? I can see the sun rising :l What is wrong with me?

9:41 So apparently I fell asleep for around half an hour between 6:20 and 6:50 and continued to have trouble falling back asleep after that. Between 7 and 9:20 (when I was to wake up, which I did) I think I was worried I wouldn’t hear my alarm because I woke up every few chunks of minutes to check the time. It was especially focused and bad from around 8 to 9:20. This is a little ridiculous. So I got...three very interrupted hours of sleep last night. Great. Oh well. I knew there would be consequences, but I didn’t think I’d be having trouble falling asleep until 7 when the sun was pretty high already! Gar. My mind bothers me sometimes. I don’t even know what it was that was keeping me awake. I mean sure some of the movies we watched had scary bits in them, but I wasn’t afraid of that (see earlier journal post). Sigh. At least I’ll be tired enough to fall asleep nice and early tonight cause there’s no way I can get a nap in today.

3:06 Soooo...tired... But...must resist...complaining...

8:01 Can I just sleep forever?

March 9, 2012

2:32 Why am I feeling so gosh darn tired? I got 9 hours of sleep last night and more the nights before. Am I anemic? Or is this just some weird phase? Am I not sleeping well cause of weird dreams I’ve been having? (bleeding fingernails)

June 20, 2012

12:30 And thus begins day three of my days off. So what did I do? I started cleaning. On my boredom scale, that’s how you tell it’s really bad. When I simply start cleaning practically automatically, it’s bad. Just to occupy myself with something that is worth my time. But now that I’m done with what I’m not too lazy to do, I’m sitting here in front of my computer playing word games and feeling pretty low of myself. I don’t know and I don’t know why. I almost feel like a burden today. It’s days like these I wish I could sink into the shadows and disappear for a little while. For everyone to forget me for a bit and act as if I didn’t exist. Not that I died, however, but that I had merely never existed.

July 18, 2012

4:10 for some reason I can't really fall asleep. I watched Crazy Stupid Love and The Help. Good movies. But I'm still not tired.

In another life, I think I'd be an insecure, self-harming prostitute. That is, if I didn't have God or a great family that supports me.

In another life. Like an opposite reality.

Sometimes I really wish I could turn my mind off. I wish I had a sleep on switch and it could just slice through the connection between me and the world for a few hours. Leave me to my wanderings.

July 23, 2012

1:13 I just wrote my Last Will and Testament. And the songs I want them to play at my funeral. Does that make me sick or good for preparing? I mean, it could happen tomorrow.

Shrugs. It’s written. At least there will be something to go off of if it does happen within the year.

February 18, 2013

2:05 Maybe I should just stop talking altogether. Perhaps people would like me better.

February 25, 2013

12:21 Sometimes I wish I could replay memories in my head like VHS tapes. Whenever I want. And I can record over the bad ones with good memories, cause some don't deserve to be remembered.

March 7, 2013

4:37 No one should even be alive at this hour. So why am I?

4:40 It's times like these when I wonder how many people are out driving around. Maybe I should try it sometime. Just cruise around listening to music at the pre-crack of dawn.

March 12, 2013

12:46 Last night I woke up several times although I only remember three specific times: 3, 6, and 8. I knew it would happen and yet I still almost cried when 6 came around. Today was certainly trying. A few times during the afternoon all I wanted to do was take a nap. And now I'm wide-awake. Why you do this to me, body? Now that I can sleep, why won't I?

March 15, 2013

6:02 Everyone dies at the end of their own story.

7:50 Why is it when I want people to see me I feel I have to hurt myself to make that happen?

March 30, 2013

3:12 I can’t go on Facebook today because there are so many Peru posts and it hurts my heart. It makes me happy to see all those people going to change their lives, but the hurt outweighs the happiness…

April 12, 2013

1:11 feeling pretty low of myself right now, kind of for no reason. :l

Sometimes I wonder, am I bipolar?

August 10, 2013

2:35 LOTR obsessions. Yes.

School starts back up in two weeks. Crazy. Thirteen days till my birthday. Also crazy.

I feel weird today. Like a I just want to cry for no particular reason kind of weird. Hopefully hanging out with Rachel and Taylor tonight will help me be better.

December 15, 2013

5:55 It would probably be one of the worst ideas ever to leave me alone with alcohol, but isn’t that the case for everyone?

Isn’t it?

6:10 Dinner for one, tonight.

March 19, 2014

4:58 I hide my fears in the wrinkles hanging on the corners of your mouth,

hide the screams in the fingertips of your satin gloves;

I can never grow old.

I sewed my eyes shut with the threads I had used to create a memento for you, in order to block out the memories.

I forgot that they’re on the inside.

March 20, 2014

1:00 run me over, see if I care?

Fall out from beneath me, grate - what does it matter?

I like to hug the walls when I walk.

1:20 fall down the escalator - don't worry. It'll scrape you up at the bottom.

April 11, 2014

11:21 I haven't had one of these quiet worthless days in a while. I can't say I missed feeling this way.

April 19, 2014

10:15 What if I’m slowly losing myself? What if every day it gets worse and everyone thinks I’m just an asshole when this unknown disease inside is just killing me slowly?

July 2, 2014

2:11 Feels like falling down the up escalator.

July 5, 2014

5:03 Sometimes it doesn’t seem like my past ever actually happened to me. Sometimes, if I pretend hard enough, I can make myself believe that it didn’t, and that I read it in some book years ago. Opened, and shut. Begun and ended.

Finished.

August 3, 2014

8:17 Sometimes I wish I didn’t have my life. I wish I could float away like a leaf, land somewhere new, and start afresh. I suppose it’s cowardly to think something like that, when stuff gets complicated and tough or I’m having a particularly rough day and I Just want to run away from it for a bit.

September 6, 2014

11:53 You know what the worst part is? No one will ever be able to fully understand. No one. Ever. It’s such a specific situation, and one that’s so hard to explain in all the ways that it would need to be explained in order to be even remotely understood.

Most days I am strong, I know that my heart has healed and is healing due to God. But some days, some nights, it becomes a torment, the fractures in my heart. And I have no one to talk to about it. No one. It is all behind me, as far as anyone who kind of knows thinks. To admit that it’s presently tormenting me would mean I’ve been thinking about it and then that would mean trouble, blah blah…

God, I’ve prayed and prayed…take this burden away from me. I do not want it anymore. I do not. Want. It. It is a tumor, a parasite that latches onto my most painful wounds and sucks the joy away, leeching my happiness and well-being. I hate having these demons. I don’t want them. I don’t deserve them.

God…someone…please…

This is so awful, being in this place.

October 27, 2014

10:21 wake me up when the semester ends

November 21, 2014

3:24 I often get this recurring image of myself if I were to fall down the stairs or get hit by a car, or you know, something of the like, and I see myself simply lying there (obviously if I had been knocked out, this would be the case) silently in strange acceptance. Not attempting to get up, even if I was honestly more or less okay. A few days ago, I had this thought that I was walking through campus and stepped on a nail that went straight through the sole of my shoe and directly into my foot (this was brought on by the realization that the soles of my shoes were worn so incredibly thin they'd probably start busting open just by walking soon) and I just frowned deeply at the now-gushing wound, pulled out my cell to call campo, and told them quickly but calmly that I probably needed to be picked up and taken to the hospital. No tears. No curses. Just odd acceptance.

January 11, 2015

8:26 This morning I woke up and just felt wrong. I can’t say why. Perhaps it was a dream I had, but don’t remember.

March 18, 2015

11:52 My occasional

ponderance of suicide

is just Jesus

calling me home.

April 2, 2015

12:28 can I be a stranger for a day? I don't want to be me right now.

April 7, 2015

9:25

The Pit

Braid a rope of I-Love-You's,

fasten it to futility.

The streetlights don't reach down here -

neither does your hope.

June 21, 2015

12:54 I want to cry and vomit all at once.

July 2, 2015

3:34 She poured gasoline down her throat and set her lips aflame.

July 10, 2015

8:34 Railings on skyscrapers

contain me,

animal

suffocated skin wrap.

Can I breathe in the sky?

Can I jump for my life?

August 27, 2015

12:13 Sometimes I wish things could go back to being how they used to be, a long long time ago, because I'm afraid they'll never be that good again.

September 15, 2015

4:13 Sometimes I think

about suicide.

How would I do it?

Drowning, hanging,

fire – no.

maybe an overdose?

I don’t care if

you think me

a coward.

But if I'm gone

who will feed the dog?

October 1, 2015

10:16

Who am I?

Well,

Really,

It depends on who you ask.

My parents, cousins, friends

Would all say different things.

She's intelligent; sweet; funny; silly;

Hardworking; faithful; reliable.

Who is that person?

Surely that's not me?

They'd say much different things

If they could glimpse the pit

Of my mind.

She's cynical, they'd say.

She's awful, lonesome, and morbid.

Who wants to be me?

February 16, 2016

9:21 I run the water till it

prickles my finger skin pink,

pooling it in leather palms

to scald my face. Nails

curl under useless epidermis,

slough off cheeks, nose,

and flat lips. What’s etched

in the bone of my brow?

Loser?

February 17, 2016

11:18 Fling yourself from the highest window

Will you recognize your soul better in pieces?

Smile

at the blood

in your shoes

and know

they’ll never understand

where you’ve been.

September 27, 2016

12:38

Undiluted bleach purifies

or so it says.

Slug back a gulp -

no, two - on a prayer

that the convictions

coating your insides

will strip away.

Assess your sins anew -

vomit your guilts,

your lusts by the bowlful.

The cleansing burns

through your filth.

Will you become

refined? Or hope to God

it kills you first?

October 1, 2016

7:45

Never again will your fingers

press into the flesh of my hip

to mold me without permission.

My skin, living fabric fastened

taut over muscle and bone,

has shed the indelible impressions

of your fingerprints, the dead cells

of influence peppering my pores.

October 25, 2017

9:10 am

Jealousy

An atomic bomb in my gut

Nowhere for the gases

To escape, except to seep

Into my intestines.

An Adrenaline shot

In all four corners

Of my heart renders me

Trembling, an electrocuted

Trout left to gasp naked

And homeless beside you.

Reach out and conduct me.

Please

Conduct this from me

And slaughter it yourself

Before I kill me instead.

December 12, 2017

9:33 p

Nostalgia is

Three monsters wearing

Bunny masks and perfume

To cover over foul stench

And face. Two soothe,

Welcome me by way of

Lovely voices, while the third

Behind my back and just

Out of earshot grinds away at

The knife. Sometimes he

Leaves it dull. Sometimes

It is red hot sharp, ringing

Still from the stone. The

Funny thing is, I'm the one

Who offers up my arm

As he ready creeps close.

May 22, 2019

4:32 God, I feel so overwhelmed. I am so profoundly not satisfied with life

I hate feeling the way I do right now. I feel like I’m drowning and occasionally I latch on to something that keeps my head above the water for a minute – I distract myself, fall into Flow, talk to someone about non-existential things, cuddle deliberately with my cats, participate in Jiu Jitsu, play an engaging video game – but when that life raft disintegrates moments later, I am left to tread, already exhausted beyond my means. This is too much. I feel like a violently swinging trapeze artist, flinging themselves from one side of the circus to the other, high highs and lows so low as to plummet to the circus floor in an instant of slippery fingers. Is this what manic depression feels like? Is that what this is?

September 3, 2020

8:09

World Grows Dark

When I close my eyes

Then I understand

How the world grows dark

Again

And the shaking in my hands won’t stop

Everything is going wrong

The sun is out but I can’t see

All the gifts right in front of me

Please tell me where can I go from here

This journey’s lonely and there’s so much fear

My lying eyes aren’t on my side

And my mind has no place to hide

When I close my eyes

I wish I could feel

the warmth of a smile

Then maybe I’d be healed

For good

But When I close my eyes

I still understand

How the world grows dark

Again

Is this real or in my head?

Someone please stop me I think god’s

Dead

October 8, 2020

If I give me space to think

Then I think I probably

Shouldn't be alive

My suicide would be considerate.

I’d never do it, of course.

But if I did

Those who had to clean me up

Wouldn’t be bothered much.

No blood, fully clothed

Hopefully smiling

Though some things you can’t

Plan too hard for.

I want it to be freedom.

I want it to be that

Ultimate bliss.

That bliss I've had only once

In my waking life,

The day I met my husband.

But even that’s too much

To ask for

At the end.

At the end, then,

I can’t help but be

The burden I've always felt

I was.

December 11, 2020

11:19

My black hole welcomes me back

Once a month

vision narrows

Red lights abound

Next to nothing.

I’d rather just be

Nothing.

#preyforthewicked #sexualabuse #autobiography

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