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therealemotion · 2 years

Text

Twilight Suzuka by Antigone aka shelina chapman

Wednesday, March 3, 2021

8:21 AM

Chapter One: The fairytale character

My thoughts are to bleed like a mad soul in twine, I say to myself . The voices in my sczhorphrenic head are waging war with. God had told me, long before he gave me sczhorprenia, that I was the Holy Grail.

I could control my fears…but could I control Him? I try to. He only laughed. He would say my Holy Grail was of two naked women in a cup, meaning superficially, I was a Lesbian.--which I, at least to my virgin Knowledge was not.

I listen to Supermassive Black Hole by Muse from the Stephanie Meyer's inspired "Twilight" films. I never watch them, I only read. Reading is ALL I ever do…Either that, or sit around and do nothing but sleep in.

I but on a show in my room as I begin to drift in the world of Real Emotion. My thoughts are luminous. My feeling sore and defiled. I have no EMOTION, I tell myself. My emotions are just that bare a popsicle stick.

I do not watch television, however I do play games on the PlayStation 2 every now and then. My room was a mess, so I reluctantly decide to start cleaning it. My head then fills with the after effects of the amorphic gassy and fizzy feeling of medicinal lightheadedness from not taking my prescription for fears that I may be poison myself with the image of bilateral fusion with Piper and Picus. Piper an Picus are a sedative for making ends met. That is what the gods of Mt. Olympus keeping murmuring, not to me, but about me and me being able to hear the voices of the dead.

No one outside the animal world knows of me and the power vested within. And even that has its shortcomings. That is because the presence of good and evil are everywhere, not just within Man but within Nature. Take that as my experience with my imagination, calling itself Abolisk the Tormentor, or my menial term Imagination, and you get bitter sweet Choas.

I lead with my mind not with my heart.

I can speak to the animal, that is one of the abilities I have. I can shape change, however, I can only complete translation only under certain circumstances. Such things include the Heart judging, as if I would ever allow myself to lead up to that. The heart can fool me, and with a mind like mine, why base everything on love and beauty of your typical Ares woman? I lead with my mind not with my heart. I think a strong mind wields a stronger body and a mind is a terrible ting to waste.

I practice playing games to support myself in battling those mysterious shadows that prey on the weak-minded or the passive. It is the art of war using residual thinking, positive reinforcement, and learning and probability. I practice reviewing school interludes that I used to know before I had graduated before being affected with the mental illness sczhorprenia.

With my eyes wide shut, I would imagine whole new worlds of adventure I read about in books to the point my father thinks it does not do me any good. My imagination is so vivid, its self-aware and able to come to reality. That is when I find out not only I could stop time, but also move back and forth through it in sleep mode.

I call my intuitions "Memory", "Memory", "Melody", "Mnesesyne" or in assimilated order. I had built a time machine, in which Pegasus interrupted and took that away. I have invented time travel back to the Cretaceous Period where my dinosaur dream avatars would be only to discover that all my dreams are real by the message of Allah.

My dreams are amphitoads, now. They spiral out of control. I have dreams of the god of the Underworld as Edward Cullens, his own reincarnation

Edward was an underworld, fairy dream that I ran into in my soon-to-be nightmares while Hades, was my day-to-day reality. He rarely ever bothered Cerberus, the demon-dog of Hell as they walked side-by-side on the Earth saying that they ruled the Netherworld. Cerberus would be in the disguise of a normal animated, Labrador or a human musician.

He kept close to the ghost of Aaliyah and the figurine of Missy Elliot. His association with the canine world was unprecedented. He would really blow them away, especially Charlie Barkin and Elizabeth Taylor, two other angelic dogs caught up in the Netherworld.

I pause. Cerberus thinks to himself again. He understands everything I have been saying. He smiles in his dog-gone smirk that "…the chimney between us goes far as it is wide. Don't it??"

I listen to myself think again for a while. Maybe I can make a new platform hit of Death for Sailor Pluto's planet.

Cerberus thinks to himself again.

My eyes feel watery. I wipe them clean. I begin to think of a more innovative "death". I summon up the courage to challenge my of "life".

I hear Pluto say to himself, "the Garment Grid ain't what it used to be," and then mumble on.

As apparent as the legendary Darla Dimple would have said, "I'm not worthwhile." And that's only because Mary Magdalene poised a threat to her foundering youth.

I want to know about You, I tell myself. Then, I see her: my other self, my other Isabella Swan. Her name was Nadene, alias Christine Howard or Christine steward or whatever, and she looked exactly like myself even thought she was a complete stranger. I got along with her, yeah, uh-huh, but because I was Black and she was Pilipino, my dear Hades sided that white was right and began flirting with her.

He gives me a pat on the thigh and smiles, "I know what you're thinking….?"

"What?"

"You're hunting rabbits," he laughed.

I pretend to be Sailor Pluto from Sailor Moon and guard the invisible gate of Time found in my virgina. Amused, as always, my infrivoulous and infractilous admiration of Pluto goes ten-to-one, even if Isabella is there.

Morning rises, suns set.

The dead walk the earth.

Morning, noon, and night I

Pray, thou befoul my

Epidiifs Earth

Naked, cold, and wandering

A virgin lights a candle.

So black that she utters slurs that.

Transpire as the evening shadows.

Hearts are one, and seasons baring.

And she continues to count backwards.

Time moves on without her.

A high and mighty virgin

Sacrifice….

The cold is baring. The seasons are neigh.

I have no home but the Virgin Mary inside.

I make love to by virgin lover, whose eyes see

Nothing—hear nothing—knows all.

My pilgrimage is one and I am baring the fruits of

Heaven just as my forefathers have done.

Who am I? I am “Padme”.

Miracles are a thing that I have only known.

When I once loved Hades, I felt the world tremble.

---We both love Hades—that is what she said. The female

Goddess of Memory that would be my shadow….and me

Reincarnation. In about 3000 years, Hades and I shall meet again.

I shall be Isabella Swan and he shall be my Edward Cullens from the book

And the movie Twilight by Stephanie Meyers. I was a force bearer, a bearer of

Words and symbols, phrases, and metaphors.

Her name was Isabella Swan the exact Swan of the Final Fantasy.

This world is my world—a world of endless books and writing, a world of letters and dementia. I am author and narrator of the Story—the story being the Story and or stories of my own life or the lives of others. I am free and independent. I am an Ares woman. My real name is Shelina Denise Chapman, and I am an honorary 34-year-old virgin, African-American woman with sczhorprehenia. I can be driven to bouts of paranoia and hernia. My lips are red, and my fingers are forever busy typing new stories that my disease keep calling a Greek-Norse myth. I love to read and to write stories. I have been doing these habits and hobbies since I was in the first grade.

When I once loved Hades, I felt the world tremble.

Back when I was a teenager, it was much easier to write and read, otherwise go ahead a write by hand everything I needed Sometimes I would write in my diary and make it into a fantasy story; other times, when I was busy masturbating, I would write about the whole sexual impulse on screen. I have never had a companion; I have feeling morally applicable that I would not need one.

I keep hearing the supernatural, and have a hard time pinpointing my thoughts with my mind. I can hear them as I think, I can see them as I was—the walking dead. I like and I love to dream and imagine new possibilities and new ideas as well as some newly fabricated technologies and nurturing old ones. Like the telephone! I am the reason why the supernatural have telecommunications, let alone their own souls.

Deep into the passageways of fallen Roman warriors, stood the mighty Disney’s Hercules. His physical statue was otherworldly, with both nimble and grace along a pleasant night sheath. I am Disney’s Esmerelda from The Hunchback of Notre Dame animated film, and I am flabbergasted as to the virtue and maiden aura of this animated godly marvel. Why, oh, why, must I be the splendor one?

“Cupid’s arrows reach you Hades?” a voice familiar to me said from behind. It was Hermes, dressed in fine Latin-American clothing fit for the 21st century this is.

I shake my head to arouse suspicion, “Naw.” The curly -waxed figurine of the black-haired, middle-aged man comes to focus.

So, he is fat too, the Prophet said in her mind thinking from the safety of her own mind. Her name was simply Minerva Backster’s.

“Cupid couldn’t find me at 100% maximum,” he said as he nodded. He shook his head at the tall Roman figure, “Like to tower them nuts for the pack’s their worth.”

They laugh.

I find their flakiness disturbing and harmonic, a pertinence for the admiration yet conservativism of their homosexuality.

I am alone again. My head begins to hurt. I envision myself taking medicine for my needless-to-say sczhorprenia, as well as for the psychic anomaly I pose by strengthening it up. For an instance, I thought I saw Death; a shy smug figure of a Titan named Baby—Baby New Year.

Upon Me Again

Morning rises, suns set.

There are thoughts.

Which crossed my mind?

That fathom not suggestion

But the absence of Time==

Thoughts that are pending, thoughts

That are uplifting— ME.

I take a whisper of sand in my Holy Grail,

And call it Edith Blasphemy.

Such radiance designed by air.

Such vigor

I know not why nor where.

Am I the downfall?

Am I the anticipation?

No one knows why nor

Cares.

But here—But where?

But downfall. Down, down

The river bends a mermaid summoner.

Summoning up Elysian fields.

The mermaid listens—I pray.

Her fin turns to legs, and I ravish her.

She swears at me up and down.

I laugh.

I laugh…

“‘He and his shoulder blades were curving; a mixture of piper and Picus, They were.

Up against the dreariest place, I would imagine.

A ceinture of a void, seldom looked at and pronounced dead.’

Less time is available here, I begin to think to myself. And surely, if actions speak louder than words,

Then so do I-- The intelligence of the human Bible.

A short while later, my arms are wrapped in plenti. I have no mercy for the Lord whatsoever.

That is because my brain is made of Styrofoam, and my prayers are made of ice- cream bars.

I am Pluto—god Hades Pluto, ruler of the netherworld.

My sign is all I have to my name ever since Persephone reincarnated two- hundred, five years ago—and that was Plutonian time.

‘Mark my words, Galileo,’ I told Jesus one summer afternoon, ‘I’ll find the dame for me’

His pale-green eyes hit me like a love light. We made love that day. Passionate, huh? I take a moment to think back: Rome, Ancient. Babylonica. These things reap my mind. From dusk ‘til dawn, I pant like a lion’s head over this Minerva fluid. Jesus’s white ass touched me like that Falcon Furor Phoenix Flame exhibit Hesus likes to talk about so much. I remember myself moaning when suddenly an ebidimic spider came crashing down onto me. My sharp, demon eyes durn pale black and white as the scaled white dragon of Ra.

I give off an instant hiss, ot my lover’s dismay. It was that vision again. My eyes click. I maintain Biblical statues as my discography continues to merge one with me. The Scorpio within me tells me that Isabella Swan from Twilight, just struck down her creator. I give a hushed mouth to my dog Cerberus, faithful and true as always.

What could I say but to allow my own prejudices perceive me? I was in love with the goddess of Destiny herself and her would-be reincarnations….especially Isabella.

I grab my rod and satyr; ‘What a day I’ll be having.’

Isabella would look live and low at herself. My image was decimated…and on the floor? It was a bloody body wrapped in sheets; a mirror image of herself! Gasping, I awaken from the dream feeling a little bit flushed. Why would Isabella murder me? The image of the pickaxe’s admittivities to my forehead is staggering. I am Juno, the legendary Shelina Denise Chapman, personal narrator of the story herself.

I could feel her in my feet and bones—that warm September afternoon, as I envisioned the two of us inside a black spotted jeep, leaning back conquering the world of symbolisms. With my head held high, I begin to recall the primum opus of the magna carta. Every moment was dedicated to my esteem college Micheal Alexander Dimitrius Alleluia, my personification of myself living in the world of Dreams. My Uncle Randy, a middle-age elder man about the age of 47, was dark sinned brown and Spanish-speaking highlights as the African-American man always appealed to me as a strong sense of moral character and duty. That was not just beginning with his Scorpio sign, but his association with the Chronicles of Riddle Freddy Kreuger assigned to me. The antsy thoughts race across my mind about the Scorpio sign of my Uncle.

“Go, Pluto

Do it, Pluto

Go Pluto, shake it, Pluto!”

Little did he know I was an Evangelion…or so it seemed….

I walk up to him one morning late last spring and begin thinking and digging deep into my thought about various obscure aborigines—mostly about feelings that my sczhorprenia missed placed or about thoughts and experiences I had in my early childhood. Here I am, a 35-year-old African American girl thinking about the past. Odd, isn’t it? Especially since my recently deceased, in that time, Uncle Martin—a different Uncle mind you, perished after taking a single needle into his arm. Suicide. My other Uncle Avery was a retired military man, however. Although kind-hearted, he was a little more than trifling when it comes to cooking. I would laugh whole-heartedly with not meaning and concurringly at him until the day I received the apparition of me embracing Squall Lionheart as Rinoa Heartilly when I feel headlong backwards in an African-American, wooden designed chair.

Back in those days, my mother, two brothers and myself were homeless, and, we surely would have need somewhere to go. Uncle Avery was the first to pick up the dresser and pull us off the streets.

I pick myself up off the ground and begin debating with myself. My lips between my legs are tight as a drum as always, I think to myself No one has ever been there but myself, my parents, and a few doctors. I wonder when I will begin to have my own first love? I will be wondering about this for some time now. That was when it occurred to me: I have not practiced my battle format yet. I could imagine my virgina’s transforming into an erectile penis. I begin to moan at the thought of masterbating with Tifa Lockheart and several other Final Fantasy characters throughout the ages. My breeeches were appearing wet and dry at the same time. My thoughts were aflutter. I begin to moan at the thought off the emptiness and begin to cry out infuror seduction. I was a boy again playing with his andromedin, just as easily as I have squared it.

Diablos, my kitten, began to follow it pursuit as the imaginary feline companion. His black fur and grey-white temples began to appeal to my sight of imagination a strange sort of fondness. I could hear him talk to me under his skin. His purrs began to echo in my ears. I began to see images of my feline companion very vividly over the radio speakers in my ears.

Tooth

Tooth, I feel you flowing in my ears

I hear the softness, streaming

Tooth…I feel you flowing through my ears--

A quickness I have only but persevered.

It is going down…Down…down…

The pelvic gland against my ears,

The inert-arachnid—the male womb—

Against my craven belly.

Its tooth of nails—the virgin woman—is but a man,

Yet a woman.

It is my bra strap, that transits reality—

A broadband horizon, a futile

Reality.

From <https://d.docs.live.net/025cb40a2a1fb452/Documents/poems.docx>

Excaliber.docx

Destiny fulfilled

“Looks like there’s no one home,” he said as he led me up the stair of the hotel called Lavenders’ Grave. His name was Boundary, Boundary Loins. He was a smoothed talking nigga-loving, pursuit of religion that had shown through his grey hair and cloudless, white, and green=spotted teeth.

I, Magnificent, guides him firmly in between my tusks, red blouse of sparkling red, grey, and white. “…These arms are yours,” I whispered as I was doomed to repeat it.

His fangs appear as his messages my neck with the tip of his tongue. He echoes slowly purrs of exultation. His black hair, and pale skin collide with my uterus as his suspends me in animation, roaring softly against paved stone.

He clicked his tongue and then fills my mouth with red, silken blood—my own. He was drinking me and fiercely ripping into my thighs with zero tolerance of cruelty.

My auburn hair began to sway as the nightmare began to creep in. I was bitten by a vampire-zombie, and I was licking my lips as he was doing it.

The school bells would begin to ring again, on one Sunday afternoon. Bible study would begin. My seat of raging hormones was filled with sweat as I continue reading a chapter of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. I had long since put away my cross when the study of the Egyptian mosque began to ring into my ears. My arms where testy, as the sultry bosom it provided for this 25-year-old body began to vibrate with Excalibur.

“Somewhere beyond the night….” I would say as I would look up at the sky and dream. “I will find you,” I say to the distant wonderland I would know as Event Horizon.

As busy as the day went by, my soul went spiraling; I have promises. My neck bracer of black and grey began to itch and pound my suggestions with Final Fantasy VII popularity. As soon as my arms where full, I gain momentum trusting back and forth inside my chair just narrowly escaping a fall.

“Lucifer, what are you doing?” my history teacher commanded. Her hair was somewhat grey pale. She had no eyes but could sense things, terrible things happing all around her. She wore a pale white and black peddler’s cloak and expected me to do the same. Her back was hunched over with swollen scared ruffles of ginger skin and white velvet culprit defray.

My eyes roll to the bottom of the classroom, “MY name is Lucifer only in name Mon Diez.”

She strikes me down with her clubbed hands.

My world is full of gray stars and vomit. “My head hurts,” I complain. In the blink of an eye, I see Hades’ scythe roll passed my eyes. I shudder and recover automatically shrieking, “What was that?”Wednesday, March 3, 20218:21 AMChapter One: The fairytale characterMy thoughts are to bleed like a mad soul in twine, I say to myself . The voices in my sczhorphrenic head are waging war with. God had told me, long before he gave me sczhorprenia, that I was the Holy Grail.I could control my fears…but could I control Him? I try to. He only laughed. He would say my Holy Grail was of two naked women in a cup, meaning superficially, I was a Lesbian.--which I, at least to my virgin Knowledge was not.I listen to Supermassive Black Hole by Muse from the Stephanie Meyer's inspired "Twilight" films. I never watch them, I only read. Reading is ALL I ever do…Either that, or sit around and do nothing but sleep in.I but on a show in my room as I begin to drift in the world of Real Emotion. My thoughts are luminous. My feeling sore and defiled. I have no EMOTION, I tell myself. My emotions are just that bare a popsicle stick.I do not watch television, however I do play games on the PlayStation 2 every now and then. My room was a mess, so I reluctantly decide to start cleaning it. My head then fills with the after effects of the amorphic gassy and fizzy feeling of medicinal lightheadedness from not taking my prescription for fears that I may be poison myself with the image of bilateral fusion with Piper and Picus. Piper an Picus are a sedative for making ends met. That is what the gods of Mt. Olympus keeping murmuring, not to me, but about me and me being able to hear the voices of the dead.No one outside the animal world knows of me and the power vested within. And even that has its shortcomings. That is because the presence of good and evil are everywhere, not just within Man but within Nature. Take that as my experience with my imagination, calling itself Abolisk the Tormentor, or my menial term Imagination, and you get bitter sweet Choas.I lead with my mind not with my heart.I can speak to the animal, that is one of the abilities I have. I can shape change, however, I can only complete translation only under certain circumstances. Such things include the Heart judging, as if I would ever allow myself to lead up to that. The heart can fool me, and with a mind like mine, why base everything on love and beauty of your typical Ares woman? I lead with my mind not with my heart. I think a strong mind wields a stronger body and a mind is a terrible ting to waste.I practice playing games to support myself in battling those mysterious shadows that prey on the weak-minded or the passive. It is the art of war using residual thinking, positive reinforcement, and learning and probability. I practice reviewing school interludes that I used to know before I had graduated before being affected with the mental illness sczhorprenia.With my eyes wide shut, I would imagine whole new worlds of adventure I read about in books to the point my father thinks it does not do me any good. My imagination is so vivid, its self-aware and able to come to reality. That is when I find out not only I could stop time, but also move back and forth through it in sleep mode.I call my intuitions "Memory", "Memory", "Melody", "Mnesesyne" or in assimilated order. I had built a time machine, in which Pegasus interrupted and took that away. I have invented time travel back to the Cretaceous Period where my dinosaur dream avatars would be only to discover that all my dreams are real by the message of Allah.My dreams are amphitoads, now. They spiral out of control. I have dreams of the god of the Underworld as Edward Cullens, his own reincarnationEdward was an underworld, fairy dream that I ran into in my soon-to-be nightmares while Hades, was my day-to-day reality. He rarely ever bothered Cerberus, the demon-dog of Hell as they walked side-by-side on the Earth saying that they ruled the Netherworld. Cerberus would be in the disguise of a normal animated, Labrador or a human musician.He kept close to the ghost of Aaliyah and the figurine of Missy Elliot. His association with the canine world was unprecedented. He would really blow them away, especially Charlie Barkin and Elizabeth Taylor, two other angelic dogs caught up in the Netherworld.I pause. Cerberus thinks to himself again. He understands everything I have been saying. He smiles in his dog-gone smirk that "…the chimney between us goes far as it is wide. Don't it??"I listen to myself think again for a while. Maybe I can make a new platform hit of Death for Sailor Pluto's planet.Cerberus thinks to himself again.My eyes feel watery. I wipe them clean. I begin to think of a more innovative "death". I summon up the courage to challenge my of "life".I hear Pluto say to himself, "the Garment Grid ain't what it used to be," and then mumble on.As apparent as the legendary Darla Dimple would have said, "I'm not worthwhile." And that's only because Mary Magdalene poised a threat to her foundering youth.I want to know about You, I tell myself. Then, I see her: my other self, my other Isabella Swan. Her name was Nadene, alias Christine Howard or Christine steward or whatever, and she looked exactly like myself even thought she was a complete stranger. I got along with her, yeah, uh-huh, but because I was Black and she was Pilipino, my dear Hades sided that white was right and began flirting with her.He gives me a pat on the thigh and smiles, "I know what you're thinking….?""What?""You're hunting rabbits," he laughed.I pretend to be Sailor Pluto from Sailor Moon and guard the invisible gate of Time found in my virgina. Amused, as always, my infrivoulous and infractilous admiration of Pluto goes ten-to-one, even if Isabella is there.Morning rises, suns set.The dead walk the earth.Morning, noon, and night IPray, thou befoul myEpidiifs EarthNaked, cold, and wanderingA virgin lights a candle.So black that she utters slurs that.Transpire as the evening shadows.Hearts are one, and seasons baring.And she continues to count backwards.Time moves on without her.A high and mighty virginSacrifice….The cold is baring. The seasons are neigh.I have no home but the Virgin Mary inside.I make love to by virgin lover, whose eyes seeNothing—hear nothing—knows all.My pilgrimage is one and I am baring the fruits ofHeaven just as my forefathers have done.Who am I? I am “Padme”.Miracles are a thing that I have only known.When I once loved Hades, I felt the world tremble.---We both love Hades—that is what she said. The femaleGoddess of Memory that would be my shadow….and meReincarnation. In about 3000 years, Hades and I shall meet again.I shall be Isabella Swan and he shall be my Edward Cullens from the bookAnd the movie Twilight by Stephanie Meyers. I was a force bearer, a bearer ofWords and symbols, phrases, and metaphors.Her name was Isabella Swan the exact Swan of the Final Fantasy.This world is my world—a world of endless books and writing, a world of letters and dementia. I am author and narrator of the Story—the story being the Story and or stories of my own life or the lives of others. I am free and independent. I am an Ares woman. My real name is Shelina Denise Chapman, and I am an honorary 34-year-old virgin, African-American woman with sczhorprehenia. I can be driven to bouts of paranoia and hernia. My lips are red, and my fingers are forever busy typing new stories that my disease keep calling a Greek-Norse myth. I love to read and to write stories. I have been doing these habits and hobbies since I was in the first grade.When I once loved Hades, I felt the world tremble.Back when I was a teenager, it was much easier to write and read, otherwise go ahead a write by hand everything I needed Sometimes I would write in my diary and make it into a fantasy story; other times, when I was busy masturbating, I would write about the whole sexual impulse on screen. I have never had a companion; I have feeling morally applicable that I would not need one.I keep hearing the supernatural, and have a hard time pinpointing my thoughts with my mind. I can hear them as I think, I can see them as I was—the walking dead. I like and I love to dream and imagine new possibilities and new ideas as well as some newly fabricated technologies and nurturing old ones. Like the telephone! I am the reason why the supernatural have telecommunications, let alone their own souls.Deep into the passageways of fallen Roman warriors, stood the mighty Disney’s Hercules. His physical statue was otherworldly, with both nimble and grace along a pleasant night sheath. I am Disney’s Esmerelda from The Hunchback of Notre Dame animated film, and I am flabbergasted as to the virtue and maiden aura of this animated godly marvel. Why, oh, why, must I be the splendor one?“Cupid’s arrows reach you Hades?” a voice familiar to me said from behind. It was Hermes, dressed in fine Latin-American clothing fit for the 21st century this is.I shake my head to arouse suspicion, “Naw.” The curly -waxed figurine of the black-haired, middle-aged man comes to focus.So, he is fat too, the Prophet said in her mind thinking from the safety of her own mind. Her name was simply Minerva Backster’s.“Cupid couldn’t find me at 100% maximum,” he said as he nodded. He shook his head at the tall Roman figure, “Like to tower them nuts for the pack’s their worth.”They laugh.I find their flakiness disturbing and harmonic, a pertinence for the admiration yet conservativism of their homosexuality.I am alone again. My head begins to hurt. I envision myself taking medicine for my needless-to-say sczhorprenia, as well as for the psychic anomaly I pose by strengthening it up. For an instance, I thought I saw Death; a shy smug figure of a Titan named Baby—Baby New Year.Upon Me AgainMorning rises, suns set.There are thoughts.Which crossed my mind?That fathom not suggestionBut the absence of Time==Thoughts that are pending, thoughtsThat are uplifting— ME.I take a whisper of sand in my Holy Grail,And call it Edith Blasphemy.Such radiance designed by air.Such vigorI know not why nor where.Am I the downfall?Am I the anticipation?No one knows why norCares.But here—But where?But downfall. Down, downThe river bends a mermaid summoner.Summoning up Elysian fields.The mermaid listens—I pray.Her fin turns to legs, and I ravish her.She swears at me up and down.I laugh.I laugh…“‘He and his shoulder blades were curving; a mixture of piper and Picus, They were.Up against the dreariest place, I would imagine.A ceinture of a void, seldom looked at and pronounced dead.’Less time is available here, I begin to think to myself. And surely, if actions speak louder than words,Then so do I-- The intelligence of the human Bible.A short while later, my arms are wrapped in plenti. I have no mercy for the Lord whatsoever.That is because my brain is made of Styrofoam, and my prayers are made of ice- cream bars.I am Pluto—god Hades Pluto, ruler of the netherworld.My sign is all I have to my name ever since Persephone reincarnated two- hundred, five years ago—and that was Plutonian time.‘Mark my words, Galileo,’ I told Jesus one summer afternoon, ‘I’ll find the dame for me’His pale-green eyes hit me like a love light. We made love that day. Passionate, huh? I take a moment to think back: Rome, Ancient. Babylonica. These things reap my mind. From dusk ‘til dawn, I pant like a lion’s head over this Minerva fluid. Jesus’s white ass touched me like that Falcon Furor Phoenix Flame exhibit Hesus likes to talk about so much. I remember myself moaning when suddenly an ebidimic spider came crashing down onto me. My sharp, demon eyes durn pale black and white as the scaled white dragon of Ra.I give off an instant hiss, ot my lover’s dismay. It was that vision again. My eyes click. I maintain Biblical statues as my discography continues to merge one with me. The Scorpio within me tells me that Isabella Swan from Twilight, just struck down her creator. I give a hushed mouth to my dog Cerberus, faithful and true as always.What could I say but to allow my own prejudices perceive me? I was in love with the goddess of Destiny herself and her would-be reincarnations….especially Isabella.I grab my rod and satyr; ‘What a day I’ll be having.’Isabella would look live and low at herself. My image was decimated…and on the floor? It was a bloody body wrapped in sheets; a mirror image of herself! Gasping, I awaken from the dream feeling a little bit flushed. Why would Isabella murder me? The image of the pickaxe’s admittivities to my forehead is staggering. I am Juno, the legendary Shelina Denise Chapman, personal narrator of the story herself.I could feel her in my feet and bones—that warm September afternoon, as I envisioned the two of us inside a black spotted jeep, leaning back conquering the world of symbolisms. With my head held high, I begin to recall the primum opus of the magna carta. Every moment was dedicated to my esteem college Micheal Alexander Dimitrius Alleluia, my personification of myself living in the world of Dreams. My Uncle Randy, a middle-age elder man about the age of 47, was dark sinned brown and Spanish-speaking highlights as the African-American man always appealed to me as a strong sense of moral character and duty. That was not just beginning with his Scorpio sign, but his association with the Chronicles of Riddle Freddy Kreuger assigned to me. The antsy thoughts race across my mind about the Scorpio sign of my Uncle.“Go, PlutoDo it, PlutoGo Pluto, shake it, Pluto!”Little did he know I was an Evangelion…or so it seemed….I walk up to him one morning late last spring and begin thinking and digging deep into my thought about various obscure aborigines—mostly about feelings that my sczhorprenia missed placed or about thoughts and experiences I had in my early childhood. Here I am, a 35-year-old African American girl thinking about the past. Odd, isn’t it? Especially since my recently deceased, in that time, Uncle Martin—a different Uncle mind you, perished after taking a single needle into his arm. Suicide. My other Uncle Avery was a retired military man, however. Although kind-hearted, he was a little more than trifling when it comes to cooking. I would laugh whole-heartedly with not meaning and concurringly at him until the day I received the apparition of me embracing Squall Lionheart as Rinoa Heartilly when I feel headlong backwards in an African-American, wooden designed chair.Back in those days, my mother, two brothers and myself were homeless, and, we surely would have need somewhere to go. Uncle Avery was the first to pick up the dresser and pull us off the streets.I pick myself up off the ground and begin debating with myself. My lips between my legs are tight as a drum as always, I think to myself No one has ever been there but myself, my parents, and a few doctors. I wonder when I will begin to have my own first love? I will be wondering about this for some time now. That was when it occurred to me: I have not practiced my battle format yet. I could imagine my virgina’s transforming into an erectile penis. I begin to moan at the thought of masterbating with Tifa Lockheart and several other Final Fantasy characters throughout the ages. My breeeches were appearing wet and dry at the same time. My thoughts were aflutter. I begin to moan at the thought off the emptiness and begin to cry out infuror seduction. I was a boy again playing with his andromedin, just as easily as I have squared it.Diablos, my kitten, began to follow it pursuit as the imaginary feline companion. His black fur and grey-white temples began to appeal to my sight of imagination a strange sort of fondness. I could hear him talk to me under his skin. His purrs began to echo in my ears. I began to see images of my feline companion very vividly over the radio speakers in my ears.ToothTooth, I feel you flowing in my earsI hear the softness, streamingTooth…I feel you flowing through my ears--A quickness I have only but persevered.It is going down…Down…down…The pelvic gland against my ears,The inert-arachnid—the male womb—Against my craven belly.Its tooth of nails—the virgin woman—is but a man,Yet a woman.It is my bra strap, that transits reality—A broadband horizon, a futileReality.From <https://d.docs.live.net/025cb40a2a1fb452/Documents/poems.docx>Excaliber.docxDestiny fulfilled“Looks like there’s no one home,” he said as he led me up the stair of the hotel called Lavenders’ Grave. His name was Boundary, Boundary Loins. He was a smoothed talking nigga-loving, pursuit of religion that had shown through his grey hair and cloudless, white, and green=spotted teeth.I, Magnificent, guides him firmly in between my tusks, red blouse of sparkling red, grey, and white. “…These arms are yours,” I whispered as I was doomed to repeat it.His fangs appear as his messages my neck with the tip of his tongue. He echoes slowly purrs of exultation. His black hair, and pale skin collide with my uterus as his suspends me in animation, roaring softly against paved stone.He clicked his tongue and then fills my mouth with red, silken blood—my own. He was drinking me and fiercely ripping into my thighs with zero tolerance of cruelty.My auburn hair began to sway as the nightmare began to creep in. I was bitten by a vampire-zombie, and I was licking my lips as he was doing it.The school bells would begin to ring again, on one Sunday afternoon. Bible study would begin. My seat of raging hormones was filled with sweat as I continue reading a chapter of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. I had long since put away my cross when the study of the Egyptian mosque began to ring into my ears. My arms where testy, as the sultry bosom it provided for this 25-year-old body began to vibrate with Excalibur.“Somewhere beyond the night….” I would say as I would look up at the sky and dream. “I will find you,” I say to the distant wonderland I would know as Event Horizon.As busy as the day went by, my soul went spiraling; I have promises. My neck bracer of black and grey began to itch and pound my suggestions with Final Fantasy VII popularity. As soon as my arms where full, I gain momentum trusting back and forth inside my chair just narrowly escaping a fall.“Lucifer, what are you doing?” my history teacher commanded. Her hair was somewhat grey pale. She had no eyes but could sense things, terrible things happing all around her. She wore a pale white and black peddler’s cloak and expected me to do the same. Her back was hunched over with swollen scared ruffles of ginger skin and white velvet culprit defray.My eyes roll to the bottom of the classroom, “MY name is Lucifer only in name Mon Diez.”She strikes me down with her clubbed hands. My world is full of gray stars and vomit. “My head hurts,” I complain. In the blink of an eye, I see Hades’ scythe roll passed my eyes. I shudder and recover automatically shrieking, “What was that?”

The religious, through and through never amused me. I would picture them on the Himalayas stripping bare naked like a Jay bird’s egg. I wonder what else awaits me today as I topple over mountains of pre-owned novels and other valuables amonst the middle of the Ares Ram zodiac sign.

#Twilight Suzuka by Antigone aka Shelina Denise Chapman

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rendevousz · 3 years

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little hacker

avengers x fem!teen!reader

characters: brief clint barton, tony stark, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, peter parker

summary: you hacked into tony's systems and he, along with the team, track you down.

warnings: mentions of death and a car crash, hacking written by someone who has no idea how it works

word count: 3241

note: hi um this is my first oneshot on tumblr i hope you like it!!

you were 14 when you first met the avengers. your family had gotten into a tragic car accident and you were the only one who made it out alive, leaving you in excessive guilt and burden; guilt because you were the only one granted a second chance at life and burden because you had to live your life, barely scraping by as you were dropped the responsibility of taking care of your sick grandmother.

at 11, where all that the kids your age had to worry about was whether their pocket money was enough to get themselves an after-school snack, you worried whether or not the money left to your name was enough to survive.

at 11, where girls worried about their changing bodies and asked their mothers about it, you had to figure it all out yourself and with the help of your trusty laptop, the only gadget you had, one that your dad had gifted to you after you had gotten 100s for all your tests at age 8. he thought you were his little prodigy and figured a laptop would treat you well. you took care of it well because while you didn't want to spend the last of your money left, —that was specifically set aside for your grandmother's hospital bills— you wanted to hold on to the laptop for as long as you could, as a reminder of your loving father, as well as the memories the item held, after you've watched movies with pretty much all of your passed family members on that laptop at different points in your life. that was why whenever the thing lagged due to how much you've been using it, you almost always figure out how to fix it until it was good as new.

at 12, while your classmates had their parents to protect them when they were out at night, you feared for your life whenever you were out past dark. which led you to learning self defence from youtube videos. you learned them pretty quickly and with your sharp-wittedness, you no longer feared to be out at night. you even had the honours of trying out your skills when some men thought they could get you just because you were smaller than them.

at 12, where kids your age were having fun, enjoying their childhood, you had no choice but to be mature and think for the good of yourself and your sick grandmother. you were forced to grow up and you were probably more mature and intelligent than the rest of your classmates combined.

and at 13, you realised that money wasn't going to grow on trees and the money you were left with wasn't going to last forever. it had to last until you were old enough to work. but with your grandmother's condition getting worse and worse, you were forced to drop out of school. you were upset because you loved it. you loved knowledge. but family came first and the only thing that your knowledge increased on was on computers.

which led to you being able to hack into tony stark's bank account at only 14. you had no other choice than to steal money and who better to steal it from than a guy whose pocket change could probably last you another five years or so? you knew who tony stark was, the whole world knows who he is. and you thought that maybe he would be too preoccupied with his alter ego saving the whole world, along with his group of earth's mightiest heroes that he wouldn't notice the tiny bit of money you'd stolen from him.

of course the billionaire had been alerted immediately by his AI when you'd accessed into his systems. "security breach?" he exclaimed, immediately dropping the tool he was tinkering his suit with in his lab.

he spent about 3 minutes, that was how long you took touring around in his systems, observing what you did in it. he watched as you did nothing about the highly confidential information he had and instead, stole....5 grand from his bank account? that was barely a scratch to his account. what was going on?

he had requested FRIDAY to track down the hacker, mainly because he was perplexed that someone had hacked into his well protected system just to steal a tiny bit of money but it seems that even FRIDAY couldn't track down where it came from.

he told the team and it was then that everyone worried how dangerous the hacker could possibly be.

"who steals just 5 grand after hacking into a billionaire's bank account?" clint frowned after tony had explained the whole situation. "i mean, if i managed to hack into your systems, i'd do way more than just steal a couple bucks."

"exactly. and who knows? they might just be waiting for the right moment to install dangerous malware into the system and until we find the culprit, they're roaming somewhere out there with all our confidential information right at the tip of their fingers. if they decide to use it against us..." tony trailed off, for once having a worried expression on his otherwise nonchalant face. he's never been this clueless about what to do with any sort of technical issues concerning the avengers or himself.

you on the other hand, after getting complacent that you weren't caught, kept doing so for the next couple months or so. you had no ill intentions, just trying to scrape by. the whole situation puzzled tony. he didn't care how much you've taken from him in total now, you were right; it was merely pocket change to him. but you were still considered a threat since you had free access to his systems and he didn't even know who you were or where you were.

that was until you made a tiny mistake, one that if tony wasn't spending every waking moment trying to track you down he wouldn't have noticed. and though it was a small mistake, it certainly was going to change how things ran from then on.

that afternoon, after having just gotten back from visiting your grandmother at the hospital, you were planning to get more money from the billionaire's bank account at the comfort of your own home. god, hospital bills were expensive. once you had had a little snack, you settled down on the couch and opened your laptop. but being the quick-witted person you were, before the screen in front of you lit up, you saw movement from behind you.

your heart raced. you could handle fighting people but those usually happened in alleys at nighttime. this was in your home, your safe place. you made sure to lock the doors and there weren't fire escapes outside your windows so how did the intruder get in?

you could tell they were trying to be inconspicuous to get to you and so you let them. you let the person think that they were going to get you without a fight but when they were right behind you, you swiftly turned your body around and jumped over the couch. the masked intruder let out a surprised yelp and the two of you fought for a bit. before you knew it, you had them pinned under you in just ten seconds.

"wha– how– what?" it sounded like a boy. you looked down at him and noticed his red and blue spandex suit. you frowned. wasn't this the friendly neighbourhood spiderman guy or something? why was a superhero breaking into your home?

he was coughing from your knee pressing down onto his chest and you lifted it slightly, enough for him to breathe but not enough to escape. he seemed grateful though because he muttered a seemingly embarrassed 'thanks'.

"get off the kid or i'll blast you off of him myself."

you look up and saw the iron man repulsor aimed right at you, and obviously iron man himself was standing right there in the middle of your small apartment. behind him stood a redhead, who you knew as the black widow, aiming a pistol at you, and a man with a shield, captain america. the spiderboy must've come in through the window and unlocked the door for them.

when you made eye contact with steve, he frowned in confusion. you looked way too young to be the culprit they had expected. he muttered a quiet 'wait, what?' before tony stark revealed himself, his iron man faceplate opening.

"um...kid? where are your parents? or guardian? we need to see them because there's been some highly illegal activity coming from this address." the man in the suit spoke. you stayed still, knee still pressing against the boy under you, frowning at the adults in the room. they noticed your apprehensiveness and slowly lowered their weapons. "we're not here to hurt you, you can release the boy now," steve told you gently.

you usually weren't one to trust easily but since these people were known superheroes, you reluctantly stood up, still anxious of the possibilities of what they could do to you. the spiderboy got up too and dusted his back, before going to stand next to steve. you were confused as to why these heroes were breaking in your home until you remembered what you had been up to for the past weeks. how could you forget when that was the only reason you were still surviving?

your eyes widened with fear when they met tony's soft ones. he looked at you with such care and worry that you were reminded of your late dad. the man in front of you wasn't the arrogant man you've watched on youtube. you felt bad for stealing from him now. you used to think that he deserved it, despite how little you took compared to how much he had. the man knelt down before you so he didn't appear so big in front of you, seeing your frightened expression. little did he know you were frightened for a totally different reason.

"anyone else living here, kid? because i tracked down this address and someone has been stealing money from me. i might need to have a little talk with them." he explained, looking around the house. you fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously, scared of what would come once you came clean about your actions. you were scared you were going to be taken in for juvenile crime but you were also scared of the consequences of lying straight to their faces. so you took a deep breath before deciding to just tell the truth.

"t–that would be me, sir." you admitted in a small voice, avoiding eye contact with the billionaire you had been stealing from. a few shocked looks from the team and an incredulous 'what?' from tony had you biting the inside of your cheeks in fear.

"i'm truly sorry about that, sir. i..." you trailed off, debating whether or not to justify your actions because you thought that he might not even want to listen to it. "i had to pay off my grandmother's hospital bills because she is very sick. my family died a few years ago in a car crash and i was the only one who made it. i was left some money to my name but having to survive on that along with paying off nana's bills, it was bound to run out. i...i thought that since you were a billionaire, stealing a few thousands wouldn't matter to you...i'm so sorry, sir. i– i'll start working to pay you back.." you stuttered out, holding your hands together so it would minimise the shaking.

tony's mouth opened and closed, like fish out of water, not knowing what to say to you. he stood up and you were on the verge of breaking down right then and there, feeling as small as you did before he knelt before you. "p–please don't report me, sir. i– i don't know what would happen to my nana if you do.. i swear to you that i didn't mess with your other files. i only accessed the system for your bank account and that was it. i have no ill intentions, please don't report me.." you were now the one kneeling down in front of him, begging.

the team were flabbergasted at the scene unfolding before them and tony was quick to get you off your knees, which scared you even more because the death grip of his metal hands on your forearms had your mind running wild at the millions of possibilities of what he would do to you. was he going to kill you and leave you somewhere that people were never going to find your body? or was he going to dispose of you and use his power to remove you permanently from the system so no one came looking for you? he had the power to ruin your life and you feared that.

snapping you out of your mental breakdown, he spoke softly. "hey, it's okay." and that was when you realised the 'death grip' he had on your forearms had only been your paranoia getting the best of you. he was barely even touching you. your teary eyes looked up at his soft, brown ones in fear.

then he smiled at you.

"it's okay. i understand the reason why you did what you did. you're a good kid, your nana is so lucky to have you. what's your name?" he knelt down before you once again, knowing that him standing tall in his iron man suit terrified you. "y/n." you responded timidly.

"how old are you, y/n?" this time, it was steve who asked. you had forgotten that there were other people in the room, too consumed by your fear for your life a few moments ago. "i'm fourteen, mr america, sir." you whispered out, the sight of captain america in person intimidating you until you saw a kind smile on his face.

"you're pretty young to be doing what you've been doing, y/n. are you aware that you're the first person to be able to hack into my heavily protected, supposedly impenetrable network? many have tried to do so and failed, and they were really smart people too. have you been doing this for a while?" tony asked.

"um...my father gifted me this laptop when i was 8 because i did exceptionally well in school. he believed i was a child prodigy and let me have a laptop since he knew my studies wouldn't be affected by the distraction of entertainment. i used to only hack into games to cheat my way up the ranks but only recently i tried something else since i had nothing better to do and i've been out of school for a while now. i knew you were a billionaire so i tried just for the heck of it and surprised myself when i got in on the first try. and then i saw your bank account details and i really needed money so i stole some... again, i'm so sorry about that." you apologised, looking down at your feet.

he couldn't believe it. you were just messing around and you managed to get into his system? you, a mere fourteen year old who was out of school, managed to single handedly do what geniuses around the world had failed to do?

he was initially just going to have a talk with the hacker, and in case they were dangerous and had backup, he brought his own. but bringing steve, natasha and peter proved to be unnecessary when the culprit turned out to be you.

"where did you learn those moves?" natasha stepped closer towards you. you looked up at the redhead, noticing the glare she had on you when she aimed her pistols at you was replaced with curiosity.

you fiddled with the hem of your shirt even more, embarrassed to tell her that you learned to fight from a couple of youtube videos when she had gotten years of actual training. you were pathetic compared to her. "i, um, i learned them from some youtube videos."

her eyebrows raised in surprise at the revelation. you hadn't gotten professional training yet you moved like you had. peter had superhuman strength, agility and endurance yet you took him down in under ten seconds. sure it may have been a disadvantage to peter because he was caught off guard but he should've been able to take you down still.

now was tony going to let the chance of a lifetime slip by? no, of course he was immediately thinking of recruiting you. your dad had been right about you being a prodigy. you adapted to new skills quickly and you were perfect for recruitment.

"hey kid, wanna be an avenger?"

your eyes widened and your jaw dropped in shock. steve immediately turned to him, an incredulous look on his face as he glared dangerously at the billionaire. "stark, you wanna think about this for a minute?"

"thank about what, cap? you saw what she did to the spiderling. and she successfully hacked into my system on her first try and we took weeks to trace her. romanoff back me up here," he saw how impressed natasha was by you and he knew the redhead wasn't going to disagree. "stark's right, steve. she's only fourteen and she's capable of so much already. we need someone like her."

"exactly! she's only fourteen! this life is dangerous for her!" steve argued. peter then tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "hey, mr rogers, i'm a sixteen-year-old avenger and she took me down easily. not gonna lie, it hurt my pride, also my back when you flipped me over your shoulder," he turned to you but you didn't say anything because you couldn't see his facial expression. "but i think she's going to be okay, sir."

steve sighed before turning to you, the defeated expression on his face softening when you looked up at him with your doe eyes and a small smile. you didn't answer to tony just yet since it seemed that steve had a say in it as well but you were dying to say yes. not only were you not going to be reported for your crimes but to be recruited by iron man himself to be an avenger? who could say no to that? not you, at least, since you had nothing better to do with your life at the moment.

"well, what do you say, kid?"

your smile grew and you nodded happily. the team couldn't help but crack a smile at how happy you looked for the first time since they've encountered you.

"well, you should go pack your important stuff so we can go back to the tower. you're going to be moving in if you're an official member of the avengers." tony told you and you nodded, walking towards your room to start packing while the team sat on the couch to wait for you.

"wait, what's going to happen to my nana?" you turned back towards them, worry etched onto you face. "don't worry about it, kid. you can give me the details later and i'll settle it. she'll be in good hands." he assured. "okay." you mumbled in response.

you were actually going to be an avenger. "awesome.." you grinned to yourself as you packed.

#avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #tony stark x teen!reader #captain america x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #teen!reader #peter parker x reader #marvel #marvel x reader

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jessikahathaway · 3 years

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Ambrosia - Prologue

Park Jimin (Aphrodite) X Reader

Genre: GreekGod!AU, Genderbent Aphrodite!AU, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn and Smut (Future)

Warnings: Mentions of terminal illness, Jimin in a SUIT, Namjoon being a lil nosy, profanity (if I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 3.1k (YA GIRL PROCRASTINATED TOO LONG AND DIDN'T GET THE FULL CHAPTER DONE SO WE'RE DOING A PROLOGUE. K? K.)

Summary: Cast out of Olympus with the task to find his one true love, Aphrodite is certain his match will come to him. But as the years drag on, what happens when the God of Love, gives up?

Days in a flower shop in the middle of a decent sized town can pass by fast or slow. There can be days with what feels like hundreds of orders coming through the tiny store, and then there are the days where the employees just wind up looking at their phones the whole time and not one soul passes through the door.

But on special days, all it takes is one person to walk through those doors and everything changes.

This is a story of one of those days.

Tuesdays could seriously go fuck off for all you cared. This particular Tuesday was proving to be a test on every ounce of your patience and every single time you heard that door bell ring as the gates of hell opened, your shoulders sagged a little more. Something about their flowers wasn’t right. The blue wasn’t like the sky but like the sea and that’s an issue. The flowers look wilted. Always something.

But, like you did every day you turned to the customer and gave them a huge smile, ready to help them with whatever they needed. Even if it meant losing your sanity little by little.

The day passed this way, going on and the clock didn’t seem to be moving at your desired pace. So, you sat on the chair behind the desk at the front and gazed out the window.

It was a warmer spring day.

The trees were budding and life was returning after a long winter. You loved this time of the year. Everything becoming new again, alive and welcoming. But, it also means more work for you. It’s never been a problem, but this past year has been particularly hard.

Your younger sister passed away.

She’d been fighting a long illness, one with a poor prognosis. At a young age you and Sana were placed in the foster system, living with a decent enough upbringing. The foster parents were never mean or cruel, but they weren’t your parents. Whom you barely remembered now. So when you turned eighteen you asked if you could become her legal guardian. Your foster parents had agreed, wishing you and her the best of luck...

But luck had never been on you or your sister’s side.

Her illness started to rapidly progress, causing more and more doctor’s visits and more money being pulled from your measly savings. It wasn’t enough. You were having to take out loans and everything just to keep the lights on in your apartment.

Sana, however, kept her spirits high no matter the situation. She was the positive one. The bright one that everyone gravitated towards in school. She was your light. And now your life is duller. Your sister loved to go through the streets in her wheelchair, looking at the budding leaves and flowers that were growing on the trees.

“Look Y/N!” she’d squeak. “They’re so beautiful. I want to open a flower shop, and I’m going to sell the most beautiful flowers to people.”

As her birthday present you decided to open the flower shop.

It was her last one.

Looking out at the spring blooming in front of you it was hard to be happy, knowing how much your sweet Sana would’ve loved it. Life often wasn’t fair, but you hadn’t expected it to be so. You weren’t a bad person, but bad things had happened. But you were alive, and had a life to keep living.

As much as the flower shop was Sana’s dream, you couldn’t sell it when she died. It had become your safe haven. A little place to call your own. Even if it was Sana’s dream, you had made it real. Real enough for the both of you, and now you gotta keep it going. Even if the loan to open it made your wallet want to cry, it was enough. Plenty.

Because it was yours.

A single tear fell down your cheek as you thought of your beloved sister, and her cute cheeks and beautiful eyes that never held an ounce of fear or regret. A few petals fell from the blossoming tree outside in the wind and fell to the ground in a swirl of pastel hues that made you smile.

More tears moved down your cheeks and you wiped them away in frustration. She wouldn’t want you to be upset, she’d want you to be happy and to continue with your life. Keep going and make something of yourself.

Sana used to say that you were always Y/N the big sister and never just... Y/N. And you knew it was true. You were supposed to take care of her, but now that she’s gone... T-There was no one to care for but yourself.

You’d have to be enough.

Suddenly, the bell above your door ran proudly, making your teary eyes refocus on the person entering the store. Those tears were quickly replaced with a look of wonder.

A man walked through the door, head held high and his eyes scanned the area like he was inspecting it. Wiping your already sweaty palms on your apron you approached him with a gentle smile.

“Welcome to Sana’s flowers, how can I assist you?” you asked, coming towards him. The man took in your appearance and a calm expression steeled over his face.

“Hi, are you Sana?” he asked, referring to the name.

“No, Sana was my sister,” you said, swallowing hard. The man seemed to understand.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to impose,” he said, bowing lightly.

“You’re fine, no worries. How can I help you?” you asked, looking at his apparel.

He was dressed in a fine suit, tailored to his every inch, must’ve been expensive as hell. You could probably open a whole new section of your shop with the money he was dripping in.

You weren’t known for having an upper class clientele, not that the occasional businessman came in and asked for a bouquet of your finest flowers. Sometimes two... Shaking your head you focused on the man in front of you as best as you could. But, his features were so striking it was hard to keep your eyes from wander...

“Park Jimin,” he introduced, holding his hand out politely.

“Y/N,” you said, extending your own hand and taking his in yours. Shaking gently he gave a smile that could rival the very stars in the sky. This man was more breathtaking the longer you looked, making your palms start to sweat even more.

“A pleasure, Y/N,” he said. “I’m having an event to celebrate my family's company. It’s the 125 year of it’s business and we are looking to source from the local populace instead of corporations to provide a more intimate setting for the investors and other members of the company,” Jimin said, rambling off a lot of information for your sleep deprived brain.

“I see, so you’re looking for floral arrangements?” You asked, heading towards your book of options. Jimin followed you over, leaning towards you so close you could smell his cologne. A spicy scent that wasn’t overpowering but more... alluring? Inviting?

Shaking your head you pulled up your options of centerpieces and the like, showing him what styles you had available and Jimin paid close attention to each set. Asking questions about what flowers would look good in what vases and if they did better in foam or water.

“For events I prefer the foam personally. Less likelihood of someone knocking a vase over and water getting everywhere. But the flowers are more mobile in the water, so it’s about what you’re looking for in regards to the feel,” you said.

Jimin seemed to weigh his options for a moment. “I like the traditional styles you showed me. The simple little flowers decorating around the larger arrangements, it looks classy and provides the color I’m looking for,” he said, nodding.

Making a note you grabbed a notepad to start writing all the information down.

“So when is your event? A month, two?” You said, throwing out a few different times.

“Two weeks,” he said. You froze, swallowing hard.

“Ah, I see,” you said, biting your lip.

“Is that a problem?” He asked, looking up at your pained expression.

“It’s just, the flowers might take a minute to get here. And I arrange everything by hand, so it takes me a little longer. How many tables were you going to have and the garlands for the stairways as well?” You asked.

“Well as for tables I have 150 dinner tables, 50 cocktail tables and 8 large banquet tables. There are two main stairwells that wrap around to the main area so there will be about 400ft worth of garland necessary,” he calculated slowly.

“Okay,” you said, rubbing your temples slowly.

“How many people do you have on your payroll?” He asked, looking around and noticing the empty space.

“Just me. My friend Namjoon likes to come and help sometimes but he’s a full time nurse so,” you shrugged.

“Would you be able to do this in two weeks with just by yourself?” He asked, raising a brow.

“I can always try,” you said, giving a gentle smile.

“How much would it cost?” He asked.

“Depends on the flowers you want, you already picked the style so one second,” you said, grabbing your calculator and running the numbers really quick. “I can do expedited shipping on the flowers to get them here faster but then you run the risk of stems getting broken and not having enough. But I can order more to compensate but then that’s more money,” you said.

Finally you had a total and you frowned.

“It would be around $2,156 if we did the expedited shipping and ordered more flowers to compensate for the potential broken ones,” you said, biting your lip. That was a lot of money to spend on flowers for a simple dinner event. You knew it, but with everything he wanted and the time frame it was the best you could do... You didn’t even charge him for the probability of Namjoon helping. Because then it would jump up to the 3,000 dollar mark and you weren’t going to push your luck.

After a few moments, Jimin pulled out his checkbook and started writing the check out. Your eyes bulged when he pushed the piece of paper towards you, his pen clicking with a sense of finality.

“What kind of flowers should we get?” He said, a smile on his face. You looked down and almost flung the check right back at him.

$5,500

This man had just dropped over five thousand dollars without blinking.

“Th-This is too much,” you said, trying to push it back towards him.

“You charged me for base flowers, and it’s super short notice. Take the extra as a tip,” he smiled.

“I-I can’t accept over two thousand dollars as a tip. If I get audited I’ll be screwed,” you said.

“No you won’t, it’ll be fine. Please, take it,” he encouraged, placing the check back in front of you.

You swallowed thickly, trying to keep yourself from panicking. You did have a large loan payment coming up, and this would lessen that blow significantly...

But wasn’t it wrong?

“Alright...” you trailed off, taking the check and stamping it before putting it in your deposit bag.

“What type of flowers do you recommend using?” He asked, looking at you with a gentle gleam in his bright eyes.

“Peonies and hydrangeas are a great combo with complementary color palettes. I always love doing grass pieces as a nice natural moment but, baby's breath is a classic and more traditional if that’s what you’re looking for,” you said.

“Can we do the soft blue hydrangeas and white peonies?” He asked, looking at the sample photos you had.

“Yes, the white peonies would bring a nice fullness and the hydrangeas can add the color,” you explained.

“Perfect, let’s do that then,” he said, nodding.

“Okay! I’ll get the order to go in and get the expedited shipping and we should get them by the end of the week. They’ll go into the fridge and that should help keep them fresh,” you said.

“Here.”

You turned around to see a small card placed on the table in front of you.

“What’s this?” You asked, lifting the small thing to your eyes.

“My number,” he said, grinning. “Message me when the flowers come in.”

“O-Okay, absolutely!”

Jimin smiled then, a bright dazzle expression that had your mouth drying in longing.

“I look forward to hearing from you, Y/N,” he said.

“I look forward to it as well, Mr. Park,” you said politely. Jimin tutted and shook his head.

“No, Jimin will do just fine. Have a great day Y/N,” he waved, turning on his heel and heading out the door.

You looked at the numbers and sighed.

God you were so fucked.

—

“So, let me get this straight,” Namjoon said over the phone. “Hot guy in a suit comes in and orders a fuck ton of flowers you know you can’t do yourself and you agree because he dropped an extra few grand in the check? Y/N! You can’t do that, I’ll only be able to help you arrange the bouquets the day of. So you’ll have to put them all together yourself! When will you sleep? Eat? Poop!?!” He yelped.

“Firstly, my bowel movements are none of your concern,” you stated. “And second of all, I can’t refuse that kind of money! The next loan payment is going to fuck me over if I don’t have this padding. Please Joonie, tell me you can help me at least the night before,” you pleaded.

“I really can't Y/N, I’m working night rotation. So, I could maybe stop by in the morning but then the flowers have to sit longer,” he reasoned.

“Yeah I know... Can you switch?” You said, a soft voice replacing your whining.

“I wish I could, but there’s hardly any staff that night as it is. And we’re all pulling hours we don’t like. I can’t ask them to do more. Poor Taehyung has already covered me this month and I would rather throw myself in front of a car than ask again,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re busy and I’m desperate, but... I’ll figure it out,” you said, rubbing your face in exhaustion.

“What kind of asshat doesn’t come in until last minute to order a huge ass amount of floral arrangements?” Namjoon asked.

“An asshat named Park Jimin apparently,” you said, twisting the stem of a flower in front of you.

“You-You mean the Park Jimin?” Namjoon stuttered.

“I don’t know how many of them there are, Namjoon. I just know what this one looked like,” you said.

“Doesn’t he have like, neon pink hair or something?” He asked.

“Um, no? It was blonde-ish when he was in here,” you said.

“Plump lips?”

“Yeah?”

“Eyes that command the panties of women to drop?” He asked.

“Sir, my panties stayed firmly in place so I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about,” you huffed.

“For now, Y/N, for now. Anyways,” he said dismissively. “If this is the Park Jimin we’re talking about you need to be very careful.”

“What? What are you talking about,” you whispered.

“He’s like a sex God or something. He’s got game better than Jordan, okay? But he never commits to anyone,” he said, seriously.

You rolled your eyes, even though the man couldn’t see you.

“My heart isn’t in danger here, Namjoon. We’ll be fine. I can handle an attractive businessman,” you said.

“Yeah, but can your cum thirsty twat handle it?”

“Sir, I’m gonna hang up,” you warned.

“As a nurse I demand to know the last time you got laid,” he said. “It’s for you health of course.”

“That should be a HIPPA violation,” you complained.

“Yeah, not a friendship violation though. Tell me when was the last time you were left boneless between the sheets my guy,” he said.

“I don’t see how this has to do with floral arrangements,” you sighed. “But since your bitch ass needs to know it was about a year ago.”

“Well, maybe it is time to get back in the ring,” he reasoned.

“Namjoon, there’s no need to get me a suitor. You’re not my dad trying to get another cow on the farm or something,” you joked.

“Do you think Park Jimin would give me a cow if I gave him you?” He asked, sounding too serious for your liking.

“I’m really gonna hang up now,” you said, pulling your phone away from your face.

“Just, be safe Y/N! Don’t work too hard, I love you!” You heard screamed from the receiver.

“Yeah love you too Joonbug,” you said, hanging up and looking at the clock. The numbers glared back at you like they were judging you for being up this late. But you simply shrugged and went and took a much needed shower.

That man had you sweating like a sinner in church.

As you bathed you tried to think of your next plan of attack, but the water was too warm and soon you found yourself relaxing into the stream happily. Once you were done you cracked open a can of beer and sat down in your living room ready to start the night right, when a message floated across your screen.

Joonbug: IS THIS THE CULPRIT?!? Jpg.1013

You stared at the screen with an unamused face, but picked up your device anyway. Namjoon had sent you the picture and you could tell the fucker picked the first one off of google images like the lame hoe he was, but you looked regardless.

And, surprisingly, it was him.

The cherubic cheeks and wide smile, bright eyes and an alluring body. You sighed and texted him back.

Y/N: Yea, that’s him.

Joonbug: OH REAAALLLLYYYY???

Y/N: I hate you so much.

Joonbug: You can’t resist. THIS.

Y/N: I’ve resisted your rat poison for years, I think I got it.

Joonbug: EXcUSE MEEEE??? I am at least some kind of like, sexy poison???

Y/N: I’m dying either way, why do I care if it’s sexy or not?

Joonbug: :((((((

You left the conversation at that, but your mind began to wander. How were you going to finish this order and not embarrass yourself in front of a multimillionaire?

Maybe you bit off more than you can chew...

#ficswithluv #ksmutclub #Jimin X Reader #Greek Gods #Jimin as Aphrodite #BTS Greek Gods #Jimin X Reader smut #Jimin Smut #Slow burn #Future Smut #Namjoon is a nurse #BTS #Bangtan #BTS Fanfic #BTS Fanfiction #BTS smut

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probably-haven · 3 years

Text

How Visions Work(Theory)

genshin spoilers

there’s a lot of headcanons about the effect of visions on the body temperature of the characters with pyro or cryo visions but a lot of them stop there an i want to propose we take it one step further

so the general agreement is that pyro users run hot and cryo characters run cold but imma take a moment to talk about the science of that real quick.

if something feels warm, its because the object is expelling heat from itself to its outside environment(itself losing warmth) if something feels cold, its because it’s absorbing and taking the heat from the outside environment into itself(itself gaining warmth)

which actually matches up pretty well with how i believe their visions work which ill cover before getting into what i think that means

pyro visions work by absorbing the users body heat and before then expelling it into the environment when they wish to use it. When the vision reaches what is essentially its max storage capacity, it resumes working at normal, absorbing heat from the user until it’s used, but at this point it stabilizes, because the pyro energy built up within begins overflowing into the nearby environment, a majority of it returning to the user to keep their body temperature from getting too dangerously out of wack. But by passing through the vision, the body heat is converted into pyro energy and made more intense, so the surplus tends to linger around the user, hence the heat that can be felt when touching or around them. the user can then use their powers with either the pyro energy stored in the vision, or that which still lingers around them.

cryo visions on the other hand work in a bit more of a complicated manor. like pyro visions and other visions, most of the energy that they get is from interaction with the user, in this instance, steadily taking heat from the environment that would have naturally have been observed by the vision had it been any other inanimate object and passing in through the vision and into the user, the process creating of the heat leaving the vision creating cryo energy, a sort of anti-heat vaccuum-like substance, which once it reaches it’s max, overflows in a way similar to the pyro vision, leaking into the nearby environment, helping to balance the user’s body temperature while the remainder lingers around them, absorbing heat from the environment. the user can then use the energy stored in the vision(less than pyro because more steps means less room) or that which still lingers around them (more because less room means more over flow), plus they need more surplus in order to balance cuz their temperature is more volatile

visions do however possess the ability to begin expelling energy early should the user’s body temperature become too dangerous, an ability that is missing from delusions of the corresponding element

this leads me to have a few headcanons that i really like because im obsessed with angst

1. contrary to what you might believe, after using a significant amount of their powers, Pyro users are are absolutely cold to the touch(cuz the lack of surplus energy leaves nothing to disguise or raise their low body temperature as the constantly absorbing heat to refuel) and Cryo users feel hot (the lack of surplus energy doing nothing to disguise or lower their high body temperature as the vision is constantly having to expel surrounding heat into the user in order to refuel cryo energy)

2. however during this state they are also the least likely to leave behind traces of elemental energy(like those that can be seen with elemental sight)

3. this cycling of energy actually makes a vision behave more like a part of the user that also serves its own role in maintaining homeostasis (makes it so losing a vision is quite literally comparable to losing an organ)

4. until the vision has enough stored energy for surplus to linger, Cryo users are prone to over heating and Pyro users are prone to the opposite

5. this rapid and common changing of internal body temperature also tends to weaken their immune systems

6. the lingering surplus of energy is also more easy to manipulate than the stored energy, so while it lingers, it has a tendency to be easily influenced by the user’s emotions.

7. yes this means accidentally freezing and setting things on fire during emotional extremes, or more subtle effects for those that are less extreme

8. in dragonspine, Cyro users are actually weaker but healthier. The lack of heat to cycle through their vision and body means less cryo energy is created, but less heat is there to build up in their bodies

9. Pyro users on the other hand- are in real big danger, unless they made sure to have large amounts of elemental energy before hand. They take longer at the torches they like because they need every bit of heat to raise their naturally low temperature and to make more pyro energy to both light the next torch, and to constantly have enough surplus that it doesn’t just steadily drain all the pyro they have.

10. a lot of the pyro users are overly energetic and active and move around alot, which is known to raise body temperature, and whould help with this, then there’s hu tao who while energetic is not all that active, but i think her job of “guarding the border” makes her more tolerant of the low body temperature. similar to yanfei’s constitution as an adeptus. Bennet is energetic but doesn’t move around quite as much and all, but... his luck is bad enough that he just thinks everyone feels like/has to deal with that. and Diluc- we’ve all seen the fluffy jacket. Klee constantly setting grass on fire and otherwise being hyper. Amber, gliding champion of mondstad, “i feel like running” Amber. Yoimiya is pretty active and works around fire. I dont have Xinyan so i dont know for sure in her case but i assume it fits the bill.

11. as for cryo characters- Qiqi is a zombie and Ganyu is half adeptus, different constitution. A lot of the characters are or try to be more calm and level headed, known for being kind of “slackers” to use kaeya’s words, though by this i mean they dont do excessive physical activity outside of training and that which is necessary. Diona is a bartender, often staying in one place, the opposite of pyro, keeping her body temperature down. Ayaka rarely leaves the kamisato estate. Chongyun is complicated- more on him later. Rosaria known for shirking her church duties and being basically lazy, the same as Kaeya. And Eula- i actually dont have an explanation- maybe just... the training to endure- like that one test where you have to walk through dragonspine all fancy without being thrown off.

now as for Chongyun

him with his popsicles and yang energy, needing to maintain a cool body temperature at all times as a result of his constitution

i mentioned a failsafe of visions, where should their users’ body temperature lean to dangerously to any one extreme, the vision will begin releasing the stored elemental energy early.

Chongyun’s however doesn’t store energy at all, instead immediately expelling all cryo energy it makes as soon as it forms so it can immediately absorb any dangerous body heat that Chongyun was exposed to in it’s making. This means that the surplus energy(the type more likely to be accidentally manipulated by emotions) around Chongyun is more than most other cryo users would have.

however, the balance is really fragile because his temperature is kept from getting out of hand almost entirely by his vision so external factors are extremely dangerous, as there is a still a cooldown between the transfer of heat the release of cryo energy- so unexpected sources of heat can cause a rapid rise in already fragile temperature that runs its course and wreaks havoc on the childe before the cryo energy is able to balance it out- and the problem is- with the surplus being easily manipulated by emotions, the sudden rise in temperature has a tendency to activate it, using it up and leaving him without a source of temperature regulation, which only worsens the problem. at which point the vision probably begins storing cryo energy until theres enough built up to reset his body temperature in one go- which usually ends with him passed out.

anyways i had a lot more planned to write but if i kept going i fear how long it’d get- i just think it has potential to evolve into a lot of cool things and theories for how the world works, and reflect the archons..... let me explain that-

so assuming anemo energy is created bey absorbing and then renewing the oxygen in the user’s blood, as opposed to dangerous body temperatures, it tends to have an anemic affect on their wielders, hence why all the anemo vision users have this tired air to them, Xiao’s... Xiao-ness- he just looks exhausted, Jean’s constant exhaustion that totally isnt made any better by her workload, Kazuha’s general calm relaxed disposition, and sucrose’s general demeanor- idk i just think anemo vision wielders give off anemic vibes, until they have enough surplus for the taken oxygen to replenish

except for venti- who doesn’t actually use a vision, who is literally a wind sprite, made of air- always running around and being all energetic- because he doesn’t face these problems- if anything he has extra energy and air to use. He’s basically the opposite. (windrise may have some weight in this-)

which means other archons may model this-

im not sure about geo but with electro

assuming that the constant transfer of electricity through the user’s body would eventually have a frying effect that shortens their lifespan over time(an idea largely inspired by Lisa’s voice line on visions and other theories on it) then Baal’s steady eternity serves as another opposite to this and yet pursuing eternity it becomes odd that she would give visions at all, so i feel archons must get some benefit from giving visions or she wouldn’t have done it-

but anyways imma stop now- hopefully someone found this interesting and runs with it, but if not it makes sense too

... actually geo might have something to do with an erosion-like metaphor, similar to what was brought up in the azdaha fight

still thinking about hydro tho, and im not even gonna bother with dendro

....

..... can you tell that I kin Sucrose and Albedo yet? It’s not even funny istg it’s becoming a problem .... actually scratch that i have a dark sense of humor, its kinda pretty funny

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madfantasy · 3 years

Note

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

#ask #text #diary #personal #my art #miss

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maggyoutthere · 3 years

Text

This "Everywhere At The End Of Time" thing has been showing up on my recommendations list on youtube. What even is this thing-

I mean it sounds neat. I'm like half an hour in and I like it :/ it's so nostalgic with the static and record scratches. I'm a sucker for ambient music and these sound neat

Edit:

Reached Stage 2

What is happening why is this triggering something in me. Like I can clearly tell something's wrong. You can still hear the music but the static and record scratches are louder.

I'm kinda scared though. As much as I love listening to music I can tell when something is just more than your typical summer hit or even mental health PSA. What is this-

Edit 2

K so apparently this is an album representing various stages of dementia. That's a tricky thing to do but I have faith in music. It's a great way to express stuff so I'm very curious to what this is gonna turn out like.

Edit 3

Idk if I like where this is going.

"I still feel as though I am me" broke me a little for some reason. Idk why but it just stood out differently to me. I am very very hesitant to jump some tracks to get to hear the other stages still today. Most of these tracks transmit the same idea but I didn't want to leave out anything.

Also no I hate rb stuff to make those threads. Have the consecutive edits of this thing.

Edit 4

STAGE 3 YOU CAN'T JUST CUT OFF LIKE THAT WHAT THE HELL-

Little heart attack I just had aside, I'm liking it so far. It's starting to get very uneasy but I think that's the point of it. Goodness gracious Stage 3 scared the absolute crap out of me. It cut just like that. So abruptly and caught me off guard. Not even a fade out, damn.

Edit 5

I had to skip some tracks from the second half of Stage 3 and

oh no

Edit 6

Reached Stage 4

I am having some very visceral reactions to this. It is incredibly unnerving but I want to keep listening to it so much. I love how it’s not even music anymore, it’s just... noise. Lots of different noises all crumbled up together, unified by some vely loud static.

Might have to skip some bits here because all Stage 4 songs are 30 min long each.

Edit 7

MOMS COME PICK ME UP OH FUCK OH GOD NO NO NO NO

I HATE IT HERE BUT I LOVE IT BUT AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It’s so hard to put down what this is doing. I’m not even sorry for rambling just take this post for what it is idfk if people are even reading this but holy fuck.

The 30 minute ones are killing me from the inside out. I’m very sensitive to audio and sounds (probably because of autism) and this is just pulling all the levers in my brain. It’s so- i have no idea what to call it. Sensory triggering?? I guess???

Edit 8

Stage 5.

Oh... god.

Edit 9

Reached Stage 6

This has no description, both in the video and in my head. The sheer nothingness something so loud can transmit; the void where something should be but you can't remember what. Blessed were the minutes when I was still listening to the first track; there was music at least. Now there's just this emptiness, this absolutely deafening silence.

The worst is that you know exactly what's going on.

Edit 10

Listening to the last track: Stage 6 - Place in the World fades away

Everywhere At The End Of Time is a series exploring dementia, its advancement and its totality.

I cannot put to words what an absolute masterpiece this is. To tackle such a serious mental illness like this one is already an incredibly hard thing to do; to make art out of it is risky, to make it work is nothing short of a miracle.

The Caretaker (pseudonym of the composer) is an absolute master of his craft. To use something so carefully constructed as music and sound to make sense of something that makes someone not make sense is a challenge to say the least. How do you even go about it? In music there are bound to be rhythms and leitmotifs and patterns: there is bound to be organization.

This is where EATEOT absolutely excels in. I don't know if this could be called of music but I'll surely call it of art; the genius of these tracks are in their editing rather than in their composition. The first 2 stages are pretty much just songs with static noises and record scratches layered on top. It gets the message across: there is still memory, it's just blurry, washed out. It's there but it's hard to see.

From then on out, everything changes. Stage 3 keeps the background noise going, now repeating certain parts of the songs or even reverberating them. The memories themselves are starting to change, not just getting difficult to access. Stage 4 sees the absolute fear and horror of realizing such thing is happening. The grasping at anything in pure terror of forgetting everything. There is no such thing as music now. It's unnerving, it's uneasing, and rightfully so. This does not sugarcoat things and I personally like that.

Stage 5 hits us with a certain calmness after the storm. Things aren't better of course, they're just quieter. Memories are starting to dissapear completely and now there is mostly only the background noises.

Then comes Stage 6. It's desolated, it's deserted, it's nothing. It's gut wrenching. I'd like to touch on the last song because I particularly liked this one. "Place in the World fades away" is, in my opinion, divided into 2 parts. In the 1st half you have static and noise. There is nothing in there. The occasional crescendo almost scares you because of how hollow the mind seems to be at this point, but it leads nowhere. Then there's the 2nd half. You start to hear music. Actual music this time. A choir of voices, still echoing from somewhere else remind you of how it first started: with the music. It puts things into perspective and signals you towards the first of this 6-part series, how far we've come. Then, as if telling what must be told, the music fades away, leaving you with a whole minute of absolute silence. No static, no record scratches, literally a whole minute of dead silence.

I found myself continuously going back to this tumblr post and to the comment section of the video; I didn't want to feel like I was experiencing this alone, and I was glad to see people in the comment section helping eachother out, talking and venting, so that was heartwarming.

I know I'm not usually very serious about things but I wanted to try and do it for this absolute magnum opus. I like to critique stuff as much as the next guy, but to be able to analyze something like this is unique. If you want something to challenge you emotionally, something to make you think and reflect on things, this is an absolute must.

Tl;dr: Everywhere At The End Of Time is a haunting representation of dementia, both in its advancement and in its totality. It's really profound and definitely worth a try if you have some free hours.

#everywhere at the end of time #the caretaker #eateot #music #soundart #art #analysis #reaction #maggy moment #tw mental instability #tw mental health #tw mental disorders #tw dementia #tw memory loss #tw sensory overload

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

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🕯Anon said: just wanna say I adore your writing and how you write Reiner and the kids and the other warriors is my favourite thing ever !! I just wanna give them all hugs :) do u have any hcs for the types of jobs you see them all doing in modernverse ?🕯

The types of jobs they have in modern au

{Annie, Bertolt, Colt, Marcel, Pieck, Porco, Reiner, Zeke, }

{Implied Reiner x reader}

{ "Porto" 1935 by Renato Natali 1883-1979 }

Annie is an Animal rescue worker.

Having had experience as a dog trainer before, it wasn't hard to find a full time job at her local shelter after graduating high school, having volunteered there before.

With time, effort and a lot of energy she made her way into the position of "animal control officer" now she spends her days busting animal's abusers doors and rescuing injured or neglected pets.

With long shifts and a high maintenance job, her time was all poured into her work. Usually she'd be exhausted after a long day.

Despite that, she's fulfilled and satisfied with her job. Not having to deal with a lot of people is a plus too, it's a hard job yes but she prefers it this way.

Her friends are bumped about not being able to see her a lot but they understand, plus she keeps in touch with them by lurking in the group chat only to send a snarky remark to stir the pot every now and then.

Bertolt sees her everyday because they work at the same animal shelter, even if their jobs are different they still walk home together, she also met some different people like Hitch and Marco at her job.

The kids love her job, they think it's badass, especially Gabi and Udo. Gabi because Annie gets to kick people in the face and Udo because he genuinely cares about animals.

She'd never tell anyone this, but part of the reason she wanted the job was because she felt guilty for her past self and wanted to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves.

Bertolt is a veterinarian.

Having changed his mind post graduation and going to college instead of with Reiner, he graduated after 4 years of studying and is currently working with Annie at the local shelter while also planning to open his own clinic one day.

He takes some animals under his personal care for weeks or months even till they get adopted, he fears something bad will happen to the weak or ill ones if left at the shelter overnight.

Just like Annie, the job takes a lot of his time, not to mention caring for animals off of work. So he's in the same situation as her, but for the sake of his best friend he still finds time to visit and hang out once a week.

Reiner and him still text daily, it's mostly pictures Bertolt took of the animals, Annie on her break, interesting plants he finds along the way. And Reiner replies with pictures of the kids.

They still find time to play basketball together, they try to keep it a secret from Annie because she will kick their ass in it.

Bertolt is comfortable with his job, he feels like he belongs and likes being needed. Yes the long hours are a con but seeing the fruits of his labour grow and get better day by day makes it all worth it.

The kids like visiting his house because there usually will be a new dog or some animal in there every month or so, Reiner makes sure they don't bother the animals.

Something he's never told anyone is a big part of the reason he changed his mind last minute was because Animals feel much safer and secure for him to work with than humans.

Colt is a college student working part time.

He's majoring in nursing, being a four years degree he's trying to balance his studies with work and taking care of Falco.

Zeke offered him to work full time after graduation at his clinic, since he's been working part time there for a while and the pay is good, plus it's really convenientnal.

He has worked different part time jobs in the past like a barista, flower shop assistant, tutor, kindergarten teacher, etc.

Between all his responsibilities he barely has time for himself, his courses end right before his work starts and the small bits in-between is spent on Falco and his friends. Zeke and Pieck try to take some of his responsibility but he refuses saying it's the least he could do to Falco.

He's really good at his job like multitasking, reading people, gaining their trust and having high stamina that he could stay for night shifts even.

He relies on coffee a lot.

Falco sees him as a real life superhero, they weren't that close before but after the incident he really started appreciating his big brother.

Something he keeps inside is that despite pursuing this job because he genuinely wanted to make a difference in people's lives and help the sick, he also felt a crushing guilt after his parents passed away, and so he's trying to save other people's lives now instead.

Marcel is a pilot.

It's a dream he always had since middle school, soon after graduation he joined the military to gain enough flying hours and experience to apply to a commercial airline after taking some mathematics, aviation and some general flying courses.

He was officially hired as a pilot after getting his first class medical certificate to check his health.

His work isn't measured by hours to him but by days, he needs to be available 24/7 in case of an emergency call. Now he's working overseas and far away from his friends.

You've actually never met Marcel, only seen pictures of him and received letters. The person he keeps in touch with the most is Porco.

He likes his work, it's his dream. He doesn't like the work hours and being so absent from his friends and brother, he misses them so much at times.

Pieck is a tattoo artist.

Her shop is actually her old flower shop after she decided to change her career. She's always been good with plants and taking care of them, at that time Colt worked as her assistant.

It wasn't till later after some years of practice and training under other artists that she was confident enough about her skills to start the project

Her art is full of life, mesmerising and beautiful. She puts her soul in every piece and has gained a good reputation because of it, plus having really high ratings and strict hygiene rules, no health inspector could ever challenge her.

Having her own independent work meant that she has a very flexible schedule, being mostly free ment she could pursue other hobbies like gardening.

A peaceful and simple life where she can indulge in her art and be happy is all she ever wanted

Porco is a frequent customer of hers that gets a family discount, Zeke came once before and later sent his friend, a really tall and blonde woman who became her most frequent customer.

Zofia thinks her work is really cool and wants to go and just watch her do her thing, but it's frowned upon to have a kid just sitting at a tattoo shop.

Despite changing into this career, the town people still think of her as the sweet flower shop lady.

Porco is a bartender.

That job came to him by accident more than anything, he was working part time as a bouncer in a local bar but a slot was open after the old bartender suddenly quit and he gave it a chance.

He didn't expect to love it so much, neither did he know about his hidden talent in mixing drinks. So he took it as full time and changed to better bars after gaining the experience he needed.

Being naturally charismatic and good at influencing people, while also multitasking in making drinks and keeping a conversation going, he was instantly a hit in whatever place he worked at.

Working the night shift ment he's mostly free in the morning, he tries to help Pieck with her gardening and is actually attempting to grow some plants at his house.

Naturally whenever there's a gathering, he's the one mixing drinks and being the self assigned bartender who openly judges his friends for their choice in drinks. The charismatic persona being thrown out the window and replaced by a no mouth filter.

He genuinely cares tho, he's the one taking care of someone when they drink more they can handle. It's mostly Colt who underestimates his drinks and is left clinging to Porco who drives him home.

Because of his line of work, tattoos and general brash personality, the kids' parents don't like him even one bit. They're suspicious of him no matter how many times Reiner assures them he's trustworthy.

It's actually only Colt who trusts Falco with him, and maybe Zofia's mom who is at the bar every weekend.

Reiner is a firefighter.

With his mother pushing him into this line of work, he applied for the physical and psychological exams after graduation before getting accepted. He wasn't unprepared per say but actually being in that line of work was more than he could ever prepare for.

It instantly took a great hit at his mental health, so much in fact that he was thankful Bertolt changed his mind last minute and didn't follow him in this job.

It was both everything he ever wanted, like saving people, helping children, animals and knowing it's him who saved them even if it means putting his own life at risk.

But also everything he hated, like the hunting faces and screams of the people who were far too gone for him to save, the recurring nightmares and constant guilt paired with imposter syndrome.

He works a 24/72 shift, meaning he works for a whole day before getting 3 days off. Approximately only working 7-8 days a month, not to mention unpaid leave, sick days and holidays.

So it both gave him a really tight schedule on some days and on others more free time than he knows what to do with, that's why he naturally took the main role of being the kid's caretaker. Looking after his little cousins genuinely helped him and he liked playing the big brother role.

Especially to Gabi, he was the only stable adult in her life. It's common knowledge that you call Reiner first for anything concerning her before her parents because he's more likely to answer and be available.

After meeting you, his life improved to the better as you moved in and became a trustworthy person in his life, someone he can depend on to take care of his little cousins on the days he works.

Not to mention that after you persuaded him to see a therapist, his mental health began improving too.

Gabi may or may have not committed arson at one point, she still wants to be a firefighter despite that and follow in Reiner's footsteps.

He hasn't told anyone beside you this, but he really fears for her, but doesn't have the heart to tell her no.

Zeke is a doctor.

Previously he worked in a hospital but was able to open his own clinic afterwards, Colt was a great help to him at that time when he was getting on his own feet and even worked a lot of unpaid hours.

After that he insisted Colt works an official part time job there with a much higher pay, till he graduates at least. Plus the experience will greatly improve his resume.

Zeke is brilliant at his job, he'd be a perfect doctor wasn't it for the fact he's a huge hypocrite who doesn't follow the advice he gives his patients.

He does a side job in his free time that honestly no one of his friends know what it is, but they know it gained him a lot of connections and made new friends.

Something he always keeps buried inside was that he really never expected himself to become a doctor especially after what his dad did to his mother, and yet here he is. In some way it's like his own personal stepping stone to prove he's a better man than his father ever was.

Bonus:

Falco: middle schooler

He does volunteer work on the weekends, sometimes Udo joins him.

Doesn't want Gabi becoming a firefighter.

Likes all videogames , just all types.

Likes watching cartoons and medical shows with Colt who covers Falco eyes whenever an adult scene is on

His favourite food is chicken nuggets

Wants to try coffee

Is good at PE

Reads comic books

Likes yellow and blue

Gabi: middle schooler

Takes self defence classes and really wants to go to summer camp

Wants to be like Reiner, aspires to be as strong too.

Likes shooter videogames or really hard ones.

Likes watching Anime and cartoons

Her favourite food is Pizza

Wants to try energy drinks

Is also really good at PE and surprisingly good at puzzles.

Likes red and pink

Udo: middle schooler

Takes music classes at the weekend, wants to go to science camp

Kinda wants to be like Reiner or an astronaut.

Likes calming videogames

Likes watching anime and Minecraft let's play

His favourite food is mac and cheese

His favourite drink is strawberry milk

Is good at language classes and creative writing, he also just likes animals a lot.

Likes green and black

Zofia: middle schooler (could've been in a special program)

Takes music classes with Udo

Wants to be a lawyer

Likes co-op Videogames

Likes watching true crime and youtubers drama

Her favourite food is Donuts

She likes strawberry milk and ice tea

Is good at all classes

Likes white and purple

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void-galaxy-shenanigans · 3 years

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Infodump/Long Post: Caffeine, Sugar, Dopamine, & ADHD

Hi. I’m Nico. I don’t usually infodump on here but Aiden did before & fellow neurodivergent people seemed to enjoy seeing nd centered content, & people gave him a lot of attention, so…

Here goes I guess. I hope y’all like it.

It’s gonna be a bit long but I found it fascinating so—

So first important thing is, this is based on research studies I found & theories I know, as well as my own observations, & may not be absolutely perfect because of that. But for the purpose of sharing information I’m going to tell you the theories & findings & build from there. Just bear in mind these aren’t set in stone & knowledge could change in the future - this is based on recent/current findings & understanding.

((& I don't want any arguing about the theories, the existence of ADHD, the addictive nature of caffeine/sugar (that's not the central topic here), or the way I formatted this in replies/reblogs please))

——

So many of you may know that ADHDers are affected differently by caffeine (coffee) than non-ADHDers (& neurotypicals). It’s actually been so consistent that I can tell if someone is ADHD or not based on their reaction to coffee - even before they’re diagnosed. It’s generally accepted that stimulants affect ADHDers differently. Coffee/caffeine usually puts ADHDers to sleep, or makes them drowsy, or makes them very focused, & it’s sometimes baffling as an ADHDer that some people can drink coffee to feel energized & jittery (it feels like a lie sometimes). That’s not to say that people who aren’t put to sleep by caffeine can’t have ADHD, but it’s very common to be put to sleep/calmed down by coffee.

Based on my personal experience with coffee, I’ve had a 20 ounce black coffee put me to sleep for four hours. I also, just yesterday, had a 20oz sugared latte & ended up hyperfocusing on this (topic of infodump), rewriting an intro template we made around a year ago, & writing stories (a special interest of mine) for around 6-8 hours total.

Now I think I might know why.

So I suspected the other day that maybe it had something to do with dopamine, & I did some research on how caffeine affects the brain. But because I also know sugared coffee (e.g. syrup-flavoured lattes, which is what I prefer) seem to have a different affect (especially depending on how much sugar you use), I looked into how sugar affects the brain too.

——

This is gonna use a few technical terms so I’ll explain them first for anyone who doesn’t know—

Adrenaline/Epinephrine: “A hormone your body can release (especially when you’re under stress) that increases blood circulation rate (quickens heart beat, strengthens force of heart’s contractions), breathing speed, & carbohydrate metabolism, & prepares your muscles to be used. It’s part of the human ‘fight or flight’ response to fear, panic, or perceived threat. An adrenaline rush can feel like anxiousness, nervousness, or pure excitement as your body & mind prepare for an event.”

Adrenaline Simplified - It gives you heightened energy, excitement, strength, & alertness, & a lot of it will make you jittery, anxious, or panicky.

Serotonin: A neurotransmitter compound which constricts the blood vessels and acts as a neurotransmitter. It’s responsible for influencing/stabilizing mood, feelings of well-being & happiness, cognition, reward, learning, memory, & numerous physiological processes (nausea & vasoconstriction (narrowing (constriction) of blood vessels by small muscles in their walls to slow blood flow)).

Serotonin Simplified - reduces depression, regulates anxiety, heals wounds, stimulates nausea, maintains bone health, helps with sleeping, eating, & digesting, & regulates happiness, well-being, & mood stability; it’s a soother & a happy chemical. A lot of it will make you extremely energetic & jittery.

Dopamine: “A neurotransmitter compound. When dopamine is released in large amounts, it creates feelings of pleasure (happiness, achievement) & reward, which motivates you to repeat specific behaviours; low levels of dopamine are linked to reduced motivation & decreased enthusiasm for things that would excite most people. It controls mental & emotional responses but also motor (physical) reactions. Known for being the “happy hormone”; responsible for the experience of happiness. The anticipation of most types of rewards typically increases the level of dopamine in the brain (anticipatory pleasure), & then you get a larger dose later when you get the reward.”

Dopamine Simplified - It’s your happiness/pleasure response to achievements, rewards, praise, etc. It functions as both motivation & reward, & when it’s functioning properly it’s what keeps you focused on tasks until they’re done.

Residual Dopamine: Dopamine that’s “floating” around in your brain, ready to be deployed as needed to motivate you & help you get through less fun tasks.

Temporary Dopamine: Dopamine that you get as a reward from things like beating a level in a video game, winning the lottery, etc. (accomplishments); is released after an accomplishment or event is over.

Note that typically, these chemicals (dopamine, serotonin, & adrenaline) are supposed to be balanced, & they’re supposed to be generally not very difficult to get. In mentally ill or some neurodivergent brains, however, these chemicals are imbalanced.

——

Now that the technical stuff is out of the way -

Caffeine lowers your serotonin levels, majorly increases dopamine, & releases adrenaline.

Sugar raises all three - serotonin, dopamine, AND adrenaline.

So sugared coffee will raise serotonin, dopamine, & adrenaline levels.

So how does that make them affect ADHDers differently?

——

This part is based on something called Low Arousal Theory (& no that’s not sexual).

Basically, the theory states that what makes an ADHDer appear inattentive or hyperactive has to do with dopamine in the brain - both how much we have & how easy it is to get it.

ADHDers, according to this theory, have lower residual dopamine. This causes an imbalance between dopamine and other neurotransmitter compounds/hormones.

Because of this, then, ADHDers have to rely on temporary hits of dopamine, both to focus & to boost their mood. There are often less ways we can get enough dopamine, since our brain doesn’t pre-produce enough & we thus need more dopamine total to be able to focus. So we end up hyperfocusing on anything that automatically gives large doses of dopamine - which usually ends up being things like TV shows (binge watching), video games (blackout hyperfocus where you play for hours & lose time), & social media (like, scroll, comment, scroll, lots of feedback/reward).

——

(Note in this case sugared coffee can mean coffee with sugar cubes/physical sugar added, coffee with sugary creamer added, coffee with milk added coffee with sugar syrup added, coffee with flavoured sugar syrup added, & coffee with any combination of those added (because those will all add at least a little sugar); & black coffee means coffee/espresso with not even milk added)

So if black coffee raises your dopamine levels, that means, for non-ADHDers, that it makes them energized, jittery, anxious, motivated and alert. Sugared coffee has a more significant/amplified, but similar, affect & this often shows up as shakiness & inattentiveness.

Non-ADHDers will get an artificial imbalance & a whole lot of dopamine, adrenaline, &/or serotonin. Since they already have enough dopamine naturally, this spike causes hyperactive/inattentiveness.

For ADHDers, however, their dopamine levels are low, so black coffee will cause an artificial imbalance but will leave the ADHDer with enough dopamine (higher levels of dopamine) to be motivated to do tasks & focus, & this usually causes focused drowsiness in small doses. Large doses (usually 20+ ounces of black coffee) will put the ADHD brain to sleep.

Sugared coffee though, for an ADHD brain, will cause an artificial balance with higher levels of dopamine, so this usually creates either blackout hyperfocus (medium dose of sugar + medium (16-20oz) coffee), calm focus (large coffee (20-32oz) + some sugar), or amplified hyperactivity (small coffee (8-16oz) + a lot of sugar or large coffee (20-32oz) + a lot of sugar; jittery, jumpiness, running around).

((Note the oz are an estimate & will vary depending on your personal tolerance for caffeine & sugar))

Essentially, sugared coffee could have a similar affect to prescription meds for ADHDers who don’t trust meds, get bad side effects from meds, or aren’t allowed meds? (I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it or say anyone should ditch their meds to try it, especially since coffee can be addictive, but I found it fascinating either way (since it explained (potentially) why black coffee could put me & other ADHDers to sleep).)

It also means being put to sleep by coffee, or suddenly able to Do The Thing™ because of coffee, is ADHD culture. (/lighthearted)

~Nico

#adhd #infodump #low arousal theory #LAT #coffee #caffeine #sugar #adrenaline #dopamine #serotonin #epinephrine #psychology #actually adhd #adhd adult #adhd post #undiagnosed adhd #adhd culture

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