#AND MY MOM DIDN'T CHECK MY COMMUNICATIONS GRADE

[koka-mi]

IT'S THE WEEKEND LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[violenteconomics]

as a prank, ace and epel start referring to their upperclassmen as members of their family rather than by name — when they're not actually talking to their upperclassmen, of course — just to see how long it will take them to notice. and after a while, the other freshmen start doing it, too.

ace is the first one to come up with this idea. he think it's a harmless little thing, a prank that'll cause plenty of mayhem but won't get him in any serious trouble. so he starts referring to cater and trey as his dad and mom respectively, and riddle as his uptight, no-nonsense older brother.

("one time i saw my brother try to put one of mom's tart into like a ziplock bag to save it for later, and when he took it out like two days afterwards, it fell apart immediately and he started bawling, ha ha! my dad got the whole thing on camera and shared it with me — i can show you if you want.")

he ropes epel in on the plan. epel is a little more hesitant, but seeing this as a way to get back at vil, even in a small way, he agrees to it. vil is now "ma" and rook is now "pa". people do start to wonder why he still uses he/him pronouns to refer to his supposed mother, but they decide not to question it too much.

("a few months ago, my pa told me a story about how one time my ma was trying to comb his hair, only for his comb to get stuck. so he got another comb to get the first one out, and that ended up getting stuck, too. five combs later, and peepaw had to rush him to the barber for an emergency haircut. it was pretty funny, but now i'm left wondering how pa even knew that story... hold on, i need to check my bathroom mirror for cameras, excuse me.")

surprisingly, deuce catches on pretty quickly, and he starts thinking maybe it's a new dorm policy. he doesn't know why, or why nobody else seems to be doing it, but ace seems pretty sure of himself, so he starts doing it, too, if a bit awkwardly.

("my brother always gets on my case for my bad grades. it's a little frustrating, but he only does it because he cares. my dad tutors me whenever he can, but he's not very good at studying, either. but whenever i do get good grades on my report card, my mom makes me egg tarts!")

yuu starts after they ask ace about it, and thinking it's a good prank, they decide to join in on a little mischief. so they start referring to all the teachers as their "dad". it makes people really confused, because they assume they only have one dad, two at most, but "dad" seems to change personalities every single time they talk about him.

("i was helping my dad do paperwork the other day, except we didn't get anything done and spent the entire evening playing solitaire and making dog puns."

"i was filling my dad's basketballs for him for his next game, whilst simultaneously helping him rework his pick-up lines that he's going to use on rsa's 'hot librarian' — his words, not mine. it was... a weird experience."

"i was feeding my dad's cat a couple of days ago, but i guess i fed him too much, because he's just a ball with limbs now. it's fine, though — it's not like my dad actually goes anywhere. too old for that, y'know?")

ortho is up next. idia's already ortho's brother, so he can't really do anything with that, but he really wants in on the average teenage experience of pranking your peers. so he starts referring to literally every upperclassmen he knows as his "brother". this is when everyone starts to realize that something's wrong, because some of things ortho says can not apply to idia in any reality.

("my brother is so talented! he's so good at talking to people, and making them sign contracts with him, and convincing them to invest in his restaurant... gosh, i wish i could be as good at communicating as him!")

jack is, unsurprisingly, very unamused when he figures out what the others are doing, but he doesn't try to stop them. but after a few weeks of exposure, and jack starts unconsciously doing it, too, which the others don't point out to him because they think it's absolutely hilarious.

("my brother didn't show up to morning practice, again, so my other brother and i went lookin' for him, and we ended up findin' him in a tree. obviously, my brother and i can't climb as well as my eldest bro can, so my brother just... threw a spelldrive disk at him. to get him out of the tree. and then we had to rush him to the infirmary because now he had a concussion. i don't... i don't know why he thought that would work.")

sebek is the last hold-over. not only is he unamused by this prank — and frankly very aghast when he realizes that jack has also been infected by it — but he's also really repressed and will do literally whatever it takes to not sully his image in the eyes of diasomnia. of course, with enough wear and tear, this doesn't last very long.

("ugh. my brother fell asleep on the road AGAIN! i swear, so many people have tripped over him, i'll be surprised if he hasn't broken any ribs yet.")

ace and epel think all of this is extremely funny, so they all keep trucking along with it with nobody noticing for a couple of weeks. it's all fine and dandy until the first-years are out on the town during the weekend, and deuce gets involved in a really bad carriage crash.

at the hospital, deuce starts deliriously asking for his older brother to take him home. but when the receptionist checks his familial records, they're really confused because deuce never even had a brother.

unfortunately, ace knows exactly who deuce is talking about, and awkwardly spends the next 30 minutes trying to get a hold of riddle over the phone.

the awkwardness doesn't end as riddle actually gets to the hospital, and the doctor smiles and says, "you must be mr spade's big brother."

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Vincent Van Babe-Magnet

Eddie Munson x f!reader

Description: You run into an old childhood crush, and Eddie befriends a family of very dapper rodents.

Warnings: None! Other than the fact that this is very silly.

Word Count: 1956

My Masterlist!

"Why does it feel like this is going to be way harder than we thought?" Staring at the giant canvas drop stretched across Stage B in the Hawkins Community Theater building, you sighed.

Though you never would have believed it possible, it seemed as though Eddie's deep rooted nerd nature had extended to Dustin even more so than it already had: he convinced the kid to go do tech for the theater's spring musical, a production of Sweeney Todd. 'Just check it out, see if you like it,' Eddie had said.

Turns out, Eddie had been correct in thinking Dustin would like it.

How that somehow meant you two had to get roped into it too is beyond you, but nevertheless, there you stood on this Saturday afternoon in your nicest-worst overalls, eyes scanning across the project in front of you. Eddie seemed ecstatic; he had been in the school's musicals as a freshman and sophomore, until his grades started to slip and the school stopped letting him audition. You, on the other hand, thought the idea of performing on stage in front of the entire school and everyone's grandma (so, really, half of the whole town) seemed downright horrifying.

"Guys! Hey!" you heard Dustin call from behind you. "Thanks for doing this, seriously. We are, like, majorly short-handed right now."

"No worries, dude," Eddie assured him. "It'll be fun!"

You nodded with enthusiasm,. though the very large and nearly blank canvas in front of you had you worrying. Dustin and Eddie started on one of their many semi-nonsense sounding conversations as you turned away to look for someone who seemed like they might be in charge. You quickly spotted a familiar face (or rather, familiar back-of-head), which alleviated some of your nervousness.

"Mr. Jesperson," you greeted as you walked up behind the currently crouched over a small mountain of paint buckets. "I didn't know you'd be here!"

"Oh! Hey," he responded. He pushed himself off of the ground and was about to shake your hand, before he realized he had planted it right into a puddle of mucus green paint and pulled it back to wipe it across his jeans. They looked like they could be their own art piece, with how many paint smears and splatters littered the acid washed fabric. "Haven't seen ya in ages. Wouldn't'a pegged you as the performance arts type."

"I'm not, really. Eddie, he wanted to help, but I was coerced," you clarified and gestured to your boyfriend behind you, who seemed to have gotten into some kind of very dramatic debate with Dustin and another boy you hadn't met before. "Dustin said you guys really needed it."

"Yeah, that kid can be very persuasive," Mr. Jesperson said with a laugh.

"I'd say more like 'unendingly stubborn and mildly vindictive,' but yeah, persuasive works too."

Mr. Jesperson was one of the art teachers at Hawkins High. He'd only started during your sophomore year, but he quickly became a favorite among the student population. He was one of the youngest faculty members, he wasn't evil like his predecessor had been, and he was an out-of-towner. He had moved to Hawkins from Chicago to take care of his grandmother after his mom passed away unexpectedly, which meant he hadn't fallen prey to all of the gossip that spread through this town like wildfire: I.E. he never had it out for Eddie. In fact, he quite liked having your boyfriend in class, and Eddie actually liked being in them. He was, by far, the best teacher he had ever had.

Eddie and Dustin were done with their debate, and Eddie sidled up to you. He tossed an arm around your shoulders before pointing his attention towards your former teacher.

"Jesperson!" he exclaimed. He had a tendency to forget how loud he could be. "Dustin said you might be here."

"It's good to see ya, Eddie," Mr. Jesperson said with a nod. "How's the band going? Haven't heard anything bout you guys in a while."

"Jeff moved for school." Eddie said morosely. "Tried to figure it out, but it's looking pretty dead in the water."

"Aw, man. Sorry to hear that," Mr. Jespersen said as he crouched back down onto the black stage floor. "I'm sure you'll find something else, though. You've got more musical talent in your pinky than I have in my whole body."

"Eh, we'll see," Eddie did his best to deflect the compliment, but you could practically feel the blush inching its way towards his cheeks. You leaned just a little bit closer into him as you opened your mouth to ask how the two of you could help, before a crash in the wings interrupted you. Mr. Jesperson let out a sigh and brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. It left a little pink fingerprint right between his eyebrows.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “Let me go make sure no one died. Or destroyed any more of my props.”

“Any more?” you prodded.

“Yeah, you can ask your friend over there about that,” Mr. Jesperson stood back up again and shot a glance towards Dustin, who was paying zero attention to what was happening and seemed much more interested in the gadgets he was messing around with. You and Eddie shared a look and tried to stifle your giggles. “You guys get started on this. Everything’s already drawn, all you gotta do is fill in the colors.”

“What colors do you want?”

“All the sketches are over here, you can follow the ones on those if you want to, but they’re not set in stone or anything. I trust you two.” Mr. Jesperson turned away from you two in a rush, and you heard him call as he walked away, “Matthew, I swear to god, if I have to fix that chest again, I’m locking you in it overnight!”

You and Eddie weren’t able to contain your laughter much longer after that. 

“I’m finding Dustin after this and making him tell me what he broke,” you stated as you sifted through Mr. Jesperson’s sketches. “I bet it was something expensive.”

“Should I be worried about him?” Eddie asked with a smug grin. You met his gaze with confusion. 

“About Dustin?” you questioned. “What do you mean? Kid’s having the time of his life over there.”

“No, not Dustin,” he clarified. “About Mr. Dreamboat.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned with an eye roll. “I really wish I hadn’t told you about that!”

“You’re the one who's in love with him!” Eddie teased. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I get it, I really do, but I feel like I might need to be a little bit concerned!”

“I am not in love with him!” you defended yourself, the sinking weight of embarrassment settling itself in your gut.

“Tell that to 15 year old you,” he said with a laugh. “I bet you she’s in there somewhere, probably drooling over his paint stained clothes and muscley arms.”

“I’m going to actually kill you,” you said, wielding a paint brush as if it were a knife. 

“Nah, you won’t, you like me too much.” Eddie grabbed a paint tray and a few brushes, and planted himself at the bottom left corner of the canvas. He was quiet for a moment as he started spreading brown paint within the outline of a small family of rats tucked into the corner of the scene. “Not as much as you like Vincent Van Babe-Magnet, though.” 

You let out a groan, but joined him by his side with your own paint and brushes anyway. You knew he was just teasing you, that any jealousy you might pick up from him is all fabricated. Besides, you knew for a fact that he had been head over heels for his freshman English teacher in ninth grade. 

The pair of you worked on your own little sections in relative silence, eventually sharing your paint trays with each other and occasionally asking for the other’s input on the shading or details of whatever it was you were focused on. While you were making a pretty solid amount of progress, Eddie had been pouring all of his attention of the last hour into the rat family, which now all had little eighteenth century outfits, complete with tiny silk tophats and lace parasols. 

“Eddie, I don’t think the rats in seventeen-eighty-whatever London were going to the tailor,” you said to him. You had now moved a few feet down the canvas, but you still had a good view of Eddie’s rodent noblemen. 

“You don’t think they're handsome?” he asked you, feigning offense. 

“They’re a very stylish family of rats, I’m just not sure if they really fit into the story all that well.”

Eddie let out a dramatic gasp and clutched a hand to his chest. He leaned down closer to the canvas, speaking to the painted rodents as if they were real and also understood English. 

“Don’t listen to her, guys. You belong wherever you wanna be!” he less-than-quietly whispered into the still wet paint. He turned back to you with that mischievous glint in his eyes that you didn’t think you could ever stop adoring. “Apologize. Right now.”

“Eddie.” Any other day you would have absolutely played along, but it was starting to get late and your back was aching from being crouched down on the ground.

“Not to me,” Eddie said. “Apologize to Ralexander.”

“Ralexander?”

“Yeah, and his wife MargaRat, and their children Ratbitha and SebRatstian.”

“Oh, my god.”

“Ralexander is a member of Parliament.”

“Ralexander, I am truly sorry,” you said, though you could barely keep a straight face while you did. “MargaRat, may I say, you look beautiful tonight.”

Eddie brought his ear to the canvas and nodded along to the imaginary rats’ words.

“MargaRat says thank you, but Ralexander feels as though you’re trying to make a pass at his wife.”

“Eddie, I love you, but can we please go home?” you asked. Eddie stood up and stretched with a face splitting yawn. the tiniest sliver of his tummy peeked through the gap left between his waistband and ripped up t-shirt.

“Yeah, I think I’m starting to go a little bit insane,” Eddie said.

“Starting?”

“Ha, ha.”

You helped clean up and said a few goodbyes (turns out Dustin knocked over and shattered a lamp on the second day he was there), including a very awkward interaction with Mr. Jesperson in which Eddie kept hinting towards you childhood crush, though thankfully it seemed as though your former teacher remained oblivious. 

 The pair of you were just five or so minutes into the drive back to your shared apartment when you started to nod off in the passenger seat. You were trying as hard as you could to keep your attention to what Eddie was saying, but it was late and you could feel the exhaustion slowly overtaking you.

“Dustin said they’re gonna do Rocky Horror for Halloween,” Eddie told you. You were much too sleepy to respond beyond a hum. “I kinda wanna audition.”

“You should,” you mumbled.

“I bet ya if we moved to L.A. I would make a great movie star,” Eddie stated.

“We’re not moving to L.A.,” you grumbled. “We don’t have any money and L.A. is expensive.”

“Well, my mad acting skills and rugged good looks would make up for our lack of funds,” he explained, as if it would be that simple. “I’d star in some blockbuster action-horror flick and make us millions.”

You were barely awake when you mumbled out an agreement, almost drowned out by the hum of the van's engine and the quiet music playing through the speakers.

“Yeah, you would."

[anarchywoofwoof]

It's funny about the homeschooling thing: I had friends who were homeschooled and I cannot express how badly many of us wish our parents had the means to do so.

I was sick so often (bad immune system, endometriosis before they had a term for it) we had to go to court to defend ourselves for "truancy." I had straight A's. When I was there, I swept the tests. But they want you there in person, or else.

To not have had to wait in the cold or blazing heat without gear because poor and our parents had to be at work at 6am......

I know there are plenty of parents not cut out for it or who weren't trained and would give a subpar education, but wouldn't it be great if as humans we had so much time on our hands that we COULD?

Like every adult had so much time they could educate themselves on at least one or two subjects until a little human comes around and then Get Excited to tell them!! About the thing they learned!! Some adults really like space, some love crochet or woodworking - to see all your teachers (adults in your community) passionate about subjects and to have the freedom to express your own like or dislike or take breaks when you need to without judgement? To work at your own pace?? God I want for that future. Also tech can cut down on infections/flu and illness spreading because idiot schools INSIST on keeping 100's of students locked into tiny rooms with poor ventilation. Our school wouldn't let us open the windows during the heat of summer. Because reasons?? Note, we didn't have air conditioning.

thanks for sharing this.

so here's the thing: although i was homeschooled (really, more "no schooled" than anything), i was able to teach myself on the internet. when i was growing up, the internet was just really taking off (jesus christ i feel old saying that) and it enabled me to really just kind of teach myself whatever i wanted. so as i grew older, i grew more resourceful, more digitally literate and crafted my own education.

now the downside to this is that if you want to go into a highly-skilled field or something like science, mathematics, etc. that kind of thing is hard to pull off in a home setting.

for instance, i had absolutely no science "classes" during my school life because the amount of equipment and knowledge needed is far surpassed what my truck driver father and leasing agent mother could provide

keep in mind, i didn't have tutors. i didn't have in-house teachers. it was my fucking dad teaching me between his time working from 3 PM to 1 AM and my mom checking my homework when she remembered and after she got home from work at 5 PM. most days, i didn't have "school." i slept in and did whatever i wanted throughout the rest of the day. luckily, i was addicted to knowledge regardless, so it all worked out for me.

i'm not opposed to the idea of homeschooling, i should stress this. i won't necessarily go to the extremes of calling it child abuse or something like that. but i do think it's wise to remember that a school has entire staff dedicated to teaching your child and that perhaps it takes some hubris to assume you can fulfill your kids learning needs the same way that a staff of (hopefully) trained professionals can.

i think homeschooling is more possible than ever in the current digital world that we occupy. but my parents definitely didn't have the time, money, patience or any other of the valuable resources that you need to teach a kid from 1st grade to their senior year of high school. especially in the late 90's, early 00's, which is when i grew up.

and the problem is often that most parents don't actually have these resources, but still think that they're more than capable of meeting all of those needs that i mentioned before. unfortunately, this ends up hurting their kid the most when they go out into the world with absolutely no clue how to function in it socially.

[to-be-a-rose]

Age 4 (?): I can't read yet but I make a book out of paper and tell my mom what to write on the pages. It's about the tooth fairy or something. When people talk about their relationship with writing they always reference childhood stories like these, and they usually say they "started writing as soon as they could hold a pen," or they "picked up a pen one day and never put it down again," something like that, it always involves a pen, and a precocious vocation for storytelling. I was never too impressed because every kid has the instinct to make up stories, it doesn't mean you're a born writer. (But secretly I think yeah well, I started writing BEFORE I could hold a pen. The pen didn't factor into it at all actually.)

Age 8: I enter a writing contest where the prize is getting your story made into a real book. I wrote a story about a sentient flower in a pot because I had never read a story from the point of view of a flower. I don't win.

Age 10: I love reading even more after I get diagnosed with clinical depression, which feels like when your grandpa died and for the first time you fathom the foreverness of death while standing beside his casket, only all the time. I don't really understand why my brain broke but I do know if I'm reading then it's like it's fixed, as long as I get really sucked into the book. I decide I'll cure myself by reading every single moment I'm awake. It works!

Age 12: Another writing contest, this time everyone in the sixth grade is required to enter. We have to write a short piece (300 words) encouraging people to join the priesthood or be a nun or something (Catholic school). Every middle school in the Archdioceses enters, and I win first prize and have to read my entry in front of all-school mass. I'm given a plaque and a check. My essay goes pretty hard even though I hate church and religion. I wonder if anyone joined the priesthood because of what I wrote, about vocations, a word I only just learned. That would be hilarious.

Age 16: I'm in highschool and writing is my "thing." Everyone pays me to write papers and book reports for them, about $20 a pop depending on the length and subject matter. My motto is "at least a B or your money back!" I brag a lot because I don't have to read the book to do a decent book report. I'm in college level English and French but I'm not getting college credit because I can't pay the fee, so I'm just in there writing people's papers. I love that people think I'm deep and smart because I can write (this is what I think they think of me) even though I don't really read as much as I used to.

Age 20: It turns out I'm a terrible student. Putting words in an attractive sequence isn't so impressive; everyone knows how to do it now. Writing nice papers might help me if I wrote the papers, and went to class. So I'm on academic probation for like five years and trying not to lose my student aid. As soon as I arrived at college the fear of God went through me and I abandoned all notions of being an author. I need to do like, business. Marketing. I'm not going to be one of those chumps with an English degree, no. I'm going to get a degree in Communication! Communication is kind of like writing. It's really broad, I tell everyone, so it applies to lots of fields. They say, what do you want to do with it? I say that's the beauty of it, I can do anything. Marketing. Business. Public Relations. They say, but like what job? What job do you want? I say oh man, the sky's the limit. The future is bright. I'm gonna have my pick of jobs, you'll see.

Age 21: I get it in my head that I want to be a literary sort of writer. Confessional, feminist, slam poetry style writing is very en vogue, especially on Tumblr, so I imitate that. You do a lot of writing in second person perspective because it's provocative. It's all about dragging out my traumas for everyone to consume and it's all a claustrophobic examination of myself. I am the most fascinating person in the world. Nevermind that I never, ever edit anything I write. Nevermind that I don't spend any time reading or examining my craft, because I don't even know what that means. People are gonna read about how I did weight watchers when I was twelve and they're going to love it! I'm basically Lena Dunham but all of the cringe and none of the talent.

Age 22: I have an online job ghostwriting blog posts for law firms, a job I didn't even know existed, and that I don't think does anymore. It's just a side gig really, I'm assigned a few blogs per week for several different law firms, about 500 words, and $8 per blog. They give me topics like Divorce Law and Carseat Recalls and I churn out content. Boring as hell but a pretty sweet gig, and not unlike what I did in highschool. I got the job by submitting a writing sample, an essay I wrote about a Frida Kahlo's Henry Ford Hospital, a painting where she is laying naked in a bloody bed contemplating her miscarriage. My employer said of the writing sample, "the content you write for us will be...different."

Everything is all wrong. I'm very concerned with Being a Writer and not at all concerned about writing. I submit writing to magazines because I desperately want to be published but I never edit any piece, I never try to become better at writing, because I think it's a born-in thing and I was born with it, baby. I never like anything I write. I don't even know what I write about; confessional think pieces that hit all the beats they should but don't actually say anything. I'm putting words in an order I think people will like. I want to be published, I want to be a writer, I want the cool girls in the English department who work at the lit mag and go to poetry readings at the book shop to think I'm cool, too. (There's a huge poetry phase in here too, good God, the poetry. I do a lot of comparing men to cigarettes.)

Age 25: I live at my mom's and I quit my job at the vintage store where I've been working for three years. I took a break from school and haven't graduated. I got a job at the hockey stadium and I quit after two days. I got a job at a bakery and I quit after one. I break down crying to my mom that I just turned 25, I have no job, no degree, and I've done nothing. Something was supposed to happen by this point. Everyone thought I was so smart.

Age 26: I wonder when writing became synonymous with literary and memoir, for me. I wonder when I decided I couldn't be an author anymore. I didn't even try. I never even fucking tried, and I never asked myself what I wanted to write. And I never asked WHY I wanted to write. It's very exciting to realize this. I admit that I fucking hate writing about myself, and about the real world, and all the other imitation vagina monologues schlock I was half heartedly writing.

I dive into my interests and it's an exciting time. I'm going to write a book. As soon as I decide I'm going to be a fantasy author everything makes sense again, it all feels right and momentous. I'm fine, mom, sorry about crying earlier, I was so young then. I get on Tumblr which I abandoned a couple years ago and find a whole new community called writeblr. I start to amass writing friends and pictures of castles and writing tips and advice. I draft a YA fantasy novel about a girl who goes to a boarding school that has been infiltrated by faeries.

Age 27: I've written a book. I scrapped the YA somewhere in the first edit but I'm impressed I even did that; wrote it, and then contentedly put it away. I worked so hard for 120k word that I would never show to anyone, and I was happy because it made me a better writer. A year's worth of craft work. I think it's the first time I've ever worked hard on something, and I wish I was kidding. And it was fun. But I scrap it because I am possessed by a second idea, an adult fantasy novel. Oh yeah, and I go back to school and finish my degree. School doesn't seem as hard now that I found out how to work at something. I get my degree in Communication even though by now I know that I'd rather die than work in public or human relations, or business, or marketing. But the great thing is I get a job at the library and when I'm not showing old people how to use the computer, I read and brainstorm my novel all day long.

Age 28: I've written the adult novel, and rewritten it. I'm basically writing the same book over and over again nearly from scratch. It doesn't seem like this is how I'm supposed to do it but I can't fathom a better way. Now I've definitely worked harder than I've ever worked in my life. I've never been so certain that my writing is dogshit, and trying to make it not dogshit is so fun its like being high. At least half of the time I want to tear my hair out and sob but I'm almost certain that it's going to pay off, and pay off soon.

Age 29: Holy shit, I'm still going. Every time I think it can't get any better, it does, and every time I think it might be kinda good, I blink, and it's shit again. I've written the same book over and over, but now I'm at the point where I'm not rewriting, I'm keeping most of it and editing on the micro level. I say cool shit now like "micro level." Sometimes I get so frustrated I cry, but I'm starting to kind of love my writing.

Age 30: On Thanksgiving day, 2022 I turn 30 years old. It's a big thing, a big birthday, the big three-oh. I have a really magnanimous feeling like I need to reflect and commemorate and mourn my twenties. I figure since it's my writing blog I should do that through the lens of writing, which has been a presence in my life the whole time, some might say, since before I picked up a pen. And I figure it's my blog and big birthday, so why shouldn't I make a long self-mythologizing post in the style of how I wrote in my twenties?

My adult fantasy novel is just about done, and I'm going to give it to someone to read, and then I'll query it. Four years ago if you would have told me I would write intensively for four years to get one functional novel I wouldn't have believed that was a good thing, but now I'm just proud that I'm mature enough to try and hone the craft before rushing to get recognition for it. I do want the validation of publishing, and I want the paycheck even more, but I had no idea it was possible to feel so content in a process. Just looking inward and fucking with something until it makes you happy (that's writing in it's bare bones, fucking with it until it makes you happy.) Writing is continually becoming; when you force your life into a narrative you start saying shit like that so it all seems so prescient and profound, and then the essay can end. I don't think I can get there. There's something in there about vocations and pens that I should use to put a neat bow on this but I can't. I'm just excited. I think I'm going to be okay.

[crvstybowlofcereal]

(hey moots, this one's gonna get a little personal about me, avert your eyeballs)

Dear 13 year olds (and surrounding ages, ie 12-15 or whatever)

Being your age IS hard, and I'm so sorry people try to brush it off and say you "don't know anything about adult problems and stress"

They just Forgot what it's like to be your age.

12-15 was the Worst time in my life, and no one took me seriously.

From 11-14 I was bullied and I couldn't even figure out why. It was like the entire school (minus like a handful of people) were out to get me and my friends.

When I was 13 I was being cyberstalked by pedophiles.

When I was 13/14 one of my friends tried to pressure me into dating him (despite knowing I'm gay), he told many many lies, and even tried to threaten suicide.

I had friends going in and out of the mental hospital during middle school, and we didn't have reliable communication so they would just be gone from school and I didn't know if they were okay.

Puberty caused me a lot of problems, including but not limited to gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, and my sensory disorder severely worsening (I couldn't make it through the day without a meltdown, and God forbid you melt down in front of middle schoolers, so i would hold it in all day and go home and SOB)

I had my heart broken at 12, but who takes it serious when you're that young?

My grades fell from As for the first time ever when I got to middle school, and my parents got mad at me for it (today they would deny that statement, but I carried it with me)

From 12-16 I was in the depths of an eating disorder

I had so many loved ones in my life passing away, and no one really checked up on me.

The one opportunity I had to see a therapist, my mom wanted us to talk about my "anger issues"

Your peers expect you to have independence and expensive things like clothes (at least mine did) while you have no license and no job. God forbid you grow up poor I guess.

You're becoming aware of the world for the first time, the social and political climate, the push to be perfect in every way, and you really become aware of all the ways you don't fit in, or aren't "good enough"

At this age especially they want you to act like an adult while being treated like a child.

So I am so sorry you're having to deal with so much and people think it's funny when you say so. You are always welcome to vent to me if you need a shoulder to cry on. Because i Remember being your age. You are not alone.

[suniverseastro]

Okay thansk you sm for answering❤️

Well my boyfriend of 18 months and I recently got into astrology and thought it'd be fun to check our composite chart, however we feel limited because we're not sure of his rising sign so we don't know our house placements. We have three gueses which is Saggitaruis( same rising as me ), libra or Taraus rising but we wanted an opinion from someone more experienced to maybe help us narrow it down based on his face since it's the Asc.

For some context; we know each other from high school (he's a year below me but we're the same age because he started school later), and we met through my friend was in his class that year ( she wouldn't stop telling me about him and how he had a crush on me for almost the whole year so i told her to give him my number because i found him attractive). He only text me towards the end of exams because he was scared I'd reject him because he's in a lower grade and also because he takes his results extremely seriously 😭🤞🏼(he's always no. 1 in his year from the top 10 students in school). I don't know if these will help but he does Mathematics, physical science, civil construction and Engineering graphics & design (he likes working with his hands and being practical). He really loves his family especially his mom & He has an older brother (they have different moms) and two younger siblings. I'd describe our relationship as comfortable, it feels so easy to communicate to him even if at first i feel scared to communicate something, we're goofy and we tease one another(im a bit sensitive so you can imagine how sour i get afterwards sometimes😂), he likes scaring me and i like babying him, we share alottt of jokes and flirt... especially him.(it makes me shy🥲). At first when we started talking I thought he didn't like me because I couldn't always tell what he's feeling even though he was being obvious (i think it's because his venus falls into my 12th H - i read it from lilmajorshawty synastry observations) and he said very early into the relationship that I made him feel comfortable so quickly and I felt the same. And he was very blunt from the beginning that he wanted us to get to know each other because he wanted us to be together... and he always reassures &validates my questions and concerns straightforwardly.

Here's some pictures of him(i apologize if any are a bit inappropriate) and his general birth chart without his birth time.

And...Here's my chart just incase,

Thank you for your time and energy ❤️🤗. Also I'm sorry if I'm oversharing😭 I'm just not sure on what would help or what you need😊.

I received your ask and my opinion about his rising is Libra ( because the vibe like someone has Libra ASC I've met) and it just my guess

I read your detail and story of you, it's so sweet and the chart of you and bf make me smile one more time bc you and he have a lot thing compatible with each others 🧚🏼‍♀️🌸

#guess rising

[whalelover64]

👪family for both Aster and Amber!

My apologies for the delay! Thank you Doll! :D 

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

Aster:

Aster's family is a unique one. He's an only child with a loving mom and dad named Remedy and Orville. Aster’s whole family lineage are plague doctors, or doctors of any kind, but mostly plague doctors. 

His father’s side has been more focused on modern day medical treatments such as in hospitals or laboratories. Orville is a master surgeon plague doctor, so he would be able to do any emergency surgery up to the last minute. Aster’s uncle is a field researcher who goes around different towns, samples sick people, and brings it back to a lab to find any new diseases to combat against.

His mother’s side are mostly traditional plague doctors. They would work as local plague doctors for small town folk. Regular check ups and treatments are be free and are paid by the government. They’re not just traditional in medical treatments, but also in family life styles, too. Remedy felt like she was the only person in her family who had a normal outlook on life rather than stick with the past and stay traditional. 

Aster has a really close relationship with his mom and dad. They love him dearly and vise versa. He is also close to his uncle William/Bill (Orville’s brother) as he would have visits often and treats Aster as his own son. His uncle is also the reason why he loves hybridizing flowers. On his mother’s side, he’s not too fond of. They are family so he does go every once in a while to keep in touch, but does keep a distance from them. 

Amber:

This is a tough one. Amber's mom and dad went missing when she as 4 years old, and she wasn't claimed by any other family member. So it's safe to say that Amber doesn't have any blood-related family alive that she knows of. But I'll talk about her parents.

Amber's dad was named Ashton Graves. He was a skilled wizard and passed his college years with ease. However, he really wanted to be a children's show host. He dreamed of teaching little witches and wizards fun spells on television in a wacky fun way. When Amber was very little, he would practice with her as they play together. He was a wholesome dad.

Amber's mom was named Abigail Graves. She was more mild mannered, but had a clever side to her as well. She was the top student in her classes and graduated college with an S rank, the highest grade possible and most honorable rank to achieve. She didn't have much of a direction in life, but wanted to be part of a community coven who offers magical services in their local area.

Everything all changed when Ashton and Abigail went missing. Amber had to grow up in an orphanage where she was forbidden to learn magic at all, thanks to the strict headmaster. Now that Amber is in college, she pretty much made her own family with Aster, Faela, and Liza.

[catrakomtrikru]

You know, since I'm on the topic of personal trauma and music saving me have another post. This is going to be a long one.

When I was in my mid 20s my mom got sick and went to the hospital. She almost died. And it might not be shocking after my last post but dad and his side of the family were no help. They didn't even want to take me and my brother to see her. I wasn't working yet and couldn't drive. And my brother has some mental health problems that make it hard for him to do either.

Well fast forward and she comes home but we ended up moving to a cheaper place because now money is tight. One night I'm at work, I was doing security at some apartments and I get a call. It's mom saying she got thrown in jail because the tags on the car were out. We end getting the bail money a few days later but now we have no car. Which makes it harder for me and mom to get to work. We mostly ate of my brother's ssi money. And guess what? We end up losing the house too.

So now we're staying with this other family in a falling apart house that smells like dog shit. We knew them because I went to first grade with the older daughter and mom and her mom stayed friends. While there we had no privacy, people were having sex where everyone could see and one night the mom's boyfriend attacked me.

The next day my older brother and his family drive three hours to come get us. This was in 2020. I'm still living with them, and I don't plan on moving. I did end up going through a shitty break up and I git sexually and otherwise harassed by a coworker. And after everything that happened it was a lot on my mental health. I felt like I'd never get better.

So to help with the feelings one day I'm just on YouTube listening to music and this cover of misery business shows up. I check it out and it's really good. I took up the singer and it turned out she was in a band, and they're local.

So April of 2023 I go see this band play at pop punk nite and I get to meet the girl, her name is Chaney. She was so sweet and she's still sweet to me now. We stayed in touch over Instagram and have seen each other several times since meeting last year.

Through her I've made sooo many other amazing friends too. I'm pretty much friends with all the local bands in the scene now, they all hug me and sometimes give me free staff. I had one guy message me asking for the videos I took at his show the other night and posted one on Instagram. And they always dm me asking me to go to shows.

The first House parties, Chaney's band went on tour I went when they had their hometown show and she literally ran to me, jumped on me, and threw her arms around my neck. I caught her and hugged her back. She also recommended the shop I got my most recent tattoo at.

But yeah, this community saved me and gave me a family I needed. I love them ❤️

Here's some pics of me and some of my favorite people.

Photo credits in case you want to check the bands out.

1. Me and Chaney from House parties

2. Me, Jarrett and Zak from offended by everything.

3. Me and Colton from waiting 4 April

(I'll check for typos tomorrow)

[novadreii]

How did you *know* you were definitely done, like what is the exact cut off point? Is it just when you recognize prior patterns of abuse? I struggle so hard with this because I want to believe that people are capable of change. And I myself have struggled with my own baggage and abusive behaviour, so I want to give people the benefit of the doubt that I wish for. Hope this isn't weird to ask.

hey, not weird at all.

primarily, i felt like they employed certain tactics to punish me when i wasn't "behaving" the way they wanted me to. they usually liked to stonewall, gaslight, ignore me, invalidate me, and straight up play dumb whenever i tried to voice any kind of emotional distress. my mom would do all of these + rage and hit me, so it took me a while to make the connection between my ex and my mom just because he didn't physically abuse me. but they are both deeply emotionally childish and have narcissistic tendencies.

there was simply no love, guidance or tenderness emanating from him anymore, where those things once flowed from him in spades. it was very clear that he didn't deem me worthy of any basic respect once i lost romantic value to him.

i was ultimately done when:

i realized he had zero intention of changing of fixing anything because he refused to communicate a specific plan to do so. he would claim he loved me (words) but fail to back it up with action. so it wasn't just a temporary problem that he was trying in good faith to fix like i was doing with my issues. he was just LIKE this and it was understood i would have to deal with it.

i realized he had never issued me any kind of remorseful apology and didn't intend to. he hated accountability and apologies with a fucking vengeance. i've never seen anyone besides my mother so averse to apologizing. red fucking flag. this man watched me suffer at his hands for months, knew i was suffering from immense and debilitating anxiety that i was doing everything in my power to control, offered NO assistance, curiosity or care (didn't ask me ONCE in the last few months of our relationship a simple "how are you?"), and never sincerely apologized for it. i actually did get one written peudo-apology ("IF you feel i have wronged you, then i am sorry" everyone learned in the 5th grade that qualifiers have no place in a true apology) and one verbal one ("okay, i'm sorry!" in the exact tone that a petulant teenager uses when not having done his homework and he is not sorry one little bit for it) and they obviously did not count at all. there was no feeling behind it. no empathy. no remorse. just...annoyance? like ugh, this needy bitch demanding that i coddle her again, gross. let me shut her up.

subsequent to the above point, he felt JUSTIFIED in his treatment of me and would never truly feel sorry because of that. he was very performatively moral - this is a guy who goes to a climate rally once every few years and thinks he is the reincarnation of christ striking down capitalism with the radical left because of it. he sees himself as the quintessential Good GuyTM, always TALKS about how good and nice he is, and i came to realize that this identity is rock solid in his eyes---he believes so resolutely in his innate goodness that i know he will never be able to truly introspect and realize that actually, he is capable of harm. we ALL are. we all possess light and dark and it's our responsibility to keep the dark in check, not just try to convince people we are all light. but he cannot and will not conceive of himself as capable of hurting others, so he will continue to do so.

we tried to be friends after breaking up, but he actually continued treating me with the same disdain afterwards. especially with the use of ignoring and talking down to me like i was a fucking child when he didn't like something i said or did, instead of just like. communicating. like an adult. he continued just evading and shutting me down instead of giving me any kind of explanation or closure that i felt i was reasonably due after wasting nearly 3 years of my life and moving to the other side of the country for him.

SO. i actually pulled a rather brilliant manipulation tactic on him towards the end that i don't think he was even cognizant of. he always considered himself rather superior to others and like a chess wizard moving the people in his life around like pawns on a board, which was a huge ick to me lol, but i took a leaf out of his book for once.

i explained to him that in order to be friends, i needed him to really, properly apologize to me, something i was 99.999999% he would never ever do even if he lived to be 1000 years old. if he didn't, we couldn't be friends. this had a 3-fold purpose:

for me, getting an apology is not about my ego. i couldn't care less about being groveled to. it's a test of someone's character. my abusive mother never ONCE apologized for her abuse of our entire family; she hated apologies just as much as he did. apologies demonstrate to me 4 vital traits that i consider to be MUSTS for anyone in my inner circle: maturity, humility, bravery, and integrity. apologies are humbling and hard and they feel like shit especially when you know you are fucking wrong. but truly decent people with backbones know when they are in the wrong, they know the value in making reparations, and they aren't scared to do so. their moral compass exceeds their cowardice.

i was pretty confident that the person he'd revealed himself to be didn't truly posses any of the above 4 traits. but i wasn't sure. i had seen him be so kind and decent on so many occasions that my judgment felt clouded. if he didn't have those traits, then his pride/ego/cowardice would never let him actually apologize, and i would be absolved of having someone like that in my life because he did me a favour and removed himself from it.

BUT on the chance that i was wrong about him and he DID sincerely apologize and make things right, then i would know i had judged him too harshly, or maybe he'd gone to therapy and did some DEEP inner work on himself. this is the only point at which i would be comfortable calling this person a friend.

i consider this brilliant because it ultimately left the decision regarding the nature of our relationship in his hands. friends or strangers? i was so tired of trying to ascertain for myself what kind of person he was and getting mixed signals because of how hot and cold he ran all the time (one of his manipulations). i left it completely in his hands because i was just exhausted. i didn't want the cold, indifferent, aloof version of him in my life. i wanted the soft, kind, vulnerable, brave version that i honestly don't think was ever more than a facade at this point. if it was a facade, then he would never try to make amends. the person i thought i knew would make this right.

i know what you mean. we want to treat others like we want to be treated. all i know is i know my own heart and intention better than anyone. i was also problematic and at times abusive during our relationship. i have PLENTY of my own issues. BUT i never dodged accountability, i apologized sincerely more times than i can count. i FELT deeply terrible. hurting someone i love feels like i'm skinning myself alive, tbh. i went--am still going--to therapy. i know in my heart i genuinely and in good faith did everything i believe was right even when it was hard, even when the shame felt like it would swallow me whole. i sincerely wasn't trying to evade working on my issues like i had in the past. i wanted to do right by this person, and make things right, and this was not reciprocated in the slightest. he was only concerned with himself and what felt good to him, which seemed to include punishing me often.

so no, i don't feel bad, because i gave him every opportunity to self-reflect, go to therapy, and improve things on his end like i was doing on mine. i hung in there way past the point that was healthy for me; i was a pile of shot nerves by the end. but i couldn't carry it for both of us. it was too heavy, and i shouldn't have to. you can give the benefit of the doubt, but when it becomes clear the person is not treating you with equity, respect or good faith, and doesn't ever intend to again, you must believe them.

you cannot suffer indefinitely (or under the illusion that the suffering will be indefinite) for anybody. nobody is perfect, this is what my ex failed to understand. i didn't judge him for being shitty or having trauma or problems. what i couldn't abide was the unwillingness to introspect, take accountability, and grow. that is the only thing that separates "safe" and "unsafe" people to me. the willingness to heal. i have boatloads of trauma myself. but the difference between him and i is that i really want to change in ways that FEEL deeply unsafe and uncomfortable (but are ultimately important) so that i don't hurt people. i know i am capable of being and have been a shitty human and i really don't want to be anymore. i want to do the right thing even when it's hard and doesn't come easily, not just in performative showy ways that don't take much effort.

my ex, who is so entrenched in his copium identity of being someone who is Good and can never do any wrong, just sees me, all of his exes and any friend he's ever lost as The Problem. i remember foolishly believing him, believing that he just had terrrrrrible luck with people! it's easier for him to think this way, because if he was able to actually introspect, think critically about himself and come to terms with the downright dehumanizing ways he has treated others throughout his life, he would feel some icky feelings he doesn't want to feel. he would realize it plays some major part into why he cannot maintain any long-term connections romantic OR platonic, in the loneliness he feels. it's funny because one of his most cherished values is critical thinking; he just prefers to apply it to political analysis (the external) instead of himself (the internal).

to heal, we all have to confront the parts of ourselves we are deeply ashamed of. it feels like ass! and he just isn't ready to do that the way i am. so our paths must diverge, and it was ultimately his decision. my decision was finally enacting a standard for how i will let him--anyone--treat me.

i am sad somtimes, i do miss this person on occasion (or rather, who he led me to believe he was) and i cherish the good memories we had together the best i can. but i know i can no longer withstand neglect, disrespect and cruelty from people close to me anymore. my mind can withstand it more easily than my body can. i feel like i've aged 20 years in this relationship. i feared for my health and had to realize that while i cannot force anyone to change how they treat me, i can remove myself now. i am not a powerless child the way i was with my mother.

it's weird, because i initially started therapy to save my relationship, but therapy is what armed me with the self-love and self-respect to leave it. this irony will never be lost on me.

[shazuiashan]

Hi everyone! My name is Shanly Rose Tiro Casuna; call me "Shan" for short. I am 18 years old. I live in Purok Beauty in the Sky, Timpolok Babag 2, and Lapu-Lapu City. Do you want to know what my life is like? (Chismosa! Char!)) 

So here's the story of my life! Throwback: When I was 6 months old, my papa died because he had leukemia stage 4. He never told anyone that he was sick, not until he always felt that his head was always aching and that all of his body had a lot of black dots, and that was the symptom of his illness. All of my uncle's brothers rushed him to the hospital. When they arrived at the hospital, the doctor checked him and found out that my father has leukemia cancer stage 4, and it is too late to make him heal because it is already stage 4 cancer. All of my uncle's and mama's children cried because of my father's situation. After a week, my father decides to go home because he doesn't want to die at the hospital because there's no chance to live long, he said.

My grandma didn't agree with my father's decisions, but that's what he wanted. My grandma told the doctor that they wanted to go home, and when they got home, my mama always cried because she didn't want to see that my father was suffering. My father loses hope because he says that he will no longer live. My father's situations became more difficult, and he said he wanted to rest because he was tired, but before he died, he told my mom and my uncle's to take care of me, never let anyone hurt me, and love me like their own daughter. After my father said that, he had already closed his eyes. Everyone is crying except me because I don't even know what's happening because I'm just a 6-month-old baby.

Fast forward: after 3 years, my mother found another guy, who is my mother's husband right now. When my mama and her husband lived together in the same house, my life became miserable. My mother's attention was always on her husband. Her husband doesn't want my mother to take care of me; he always says that my tita will take care of me because he wants my mother's attention.

When my mama's husband went abroad, I was very happy because my mama's attention was all mine, but I was wrong. Every time they always do "facetime," my mother's attention is always on her laptop, and mine? I'm just nothing. I always cry when mama and his husband are on "facetime." Every time my mama picks me up, his husband always says, "Put her down." My tita is always there for me, and she is very angry at my mother's new husband. Even though I'm just 3 years old, I already understand the situation.

When I was 6 years old, her husband got home from abroad on vacation for one month. My mama got pregnant for their first son, who is 15 years old now. When I was in 5th grade, I felt something wrong about my mother's husband—the way he stared at me—something was wrong, but I didn't mind it. Until I was in 6th grade, he harassed me. I've had trauma until now; anxiety has always attacked me. I don't want to communicate with others because I'm scared. I'm no longer going to explain this more because it's too complicated.

My childhood is not good; I don't have a lot of good memories of my childhood because I'm always at home, always do the housework, and at a very young age, a 5-year-old Shanly always does the dishes and cleans the house. They don't let me play outside if I can't finish the chores. I always think that it is unfair for me because other kids are playing outside while I'm just at the house. I don't have a lot of toys because they don't want to buy them for me, even Barbie. I always wanted to have a Barbie, but they always say that it's just a waste of money. They can afford to buy some remote controls and robots for my brother, but when it comes to me, it's just a waste of money.

Every time I see a kid like me who has a Barbie doll, I become jealous. How can they have a Barbie doll while I can't? How unfair is that? They have a lot of toys and can play outside, but I can't. But I always tell myself that it's okay; I can play with myself and make my own toys.

Now, I have two brothers, one 15 years old and one 7 years old. I am very grateful that I have them. And I am thankful that they never experienced what I did when I was a kid. Well, we all know that life is hard and challenging. Just always put your trust in Jesus Christ; everything will be alright, and everything will be fine in His name. He will always guide us.

Thank you for reading...

[ohtoburden]

thinking about my dad breaking down crying in the car while driving me to school when he and my mom were separated, and how he said he still loved her.

like, did he?

wouldn't he have listened to her when she talked about how his family was treating her badly? wouldn't he have stepped in? wouldn't he have taken her side in enforcing punishment for us kids when we did something wrong? being the sole bread winner, when you agreed to that dynamic before marriage, isn't enough.

mom had the qualifications to work, she could have done it. she wanted to do it but she thought that if it was with dad, she'd be happy to have kids and be a stay at home parent.

and she cheated on him, because she felt he wasn't there for her emotionally, after all those years. it's it cheating if you don't feel like the relationship is real anymore? if you feel abandoned in it?

i mean personally yeah, it's cheating. have it out with the man and leave him, christ. but also i sort of understand her.

i don't know what kind of love has you so absent from your relationship, so unable to communicate or change or compromise or discuss when possible are first brought up, but then somehow has you break down to your kid about years later.

also man, i don't know what an appropriate relationship with your parents is supposed to be like, but that moment was so baffling. i always thought my parents were ill-matched. that they got into fights all the time. i didn't understand why they'd married. and i was a teenager dealing with so many issues, it just felt so stupid.

like, why are you breaking down to me, 16, currently suicidal, traumatised by your and mom's parenting, engaging in self destruction behind closed bathroom and bedroom doors. what on earth are you doing. what was i supposed to do with that? what was i supposed to do about it? we were on the way to school, for christ's sake. i had just a normal full day of classes ahead. i was 16. what the hell.

and now later as an adult. after my parents finally fully separated. before my dad found someone new to see. him coming to my room at 3 in the morning to check on me, but i'm always awake at those hours, so we end up talking. and we talk about his life and mine but in such a way that i am somehow basically a therapist.

who opens up to their 23 year old about being bullied in grade school, and that they've never told literally anyone else. not his parents, not his siblings, not his friends. how am i the first person you tell about this? that's so sad for him, that it took me for him to finally find someone to open up to. it took me being me, but also him not having a Wife he could pretend everything was ok with. that his lofe was exactly where he wanted it to he.

because as soon as he started seeing his new partner the pseudo therapy sessions with me stopped, of course. as soon as he started seeing her he was fine! i can't remember if i told him about the issues he gave me before or after he started seeing her, but that talk was in the daytime. you know, like a normal conversation. jesus christ.

[hyenadon]

Sometimes I think "hmn, am I autistic or am I just fucking weird?" bc autism explains away a bunch of weird behaviors in my life. But also I just don't fit a lot of diagnostic criteria. In any case though I just remembered a couple cases of me being a Fucking Weird Kid

this is just a personal vent post idk

When I was a very young child (5-6, maybe 7) one of my favorite things to do was organize my family's book collection/library by my own personal like. Organization system. Which has been updated frequently to this day and I think about constantly. When I was v young it was just alphabetical by authors last name. Whatever subject it was, no matter, alphabetical by last name. I distinctly remember crying when family members would put things back on the bookshelf in the wrong place

Over the years this organization system HAS shifted into something more reasonable so when I was living w my parents again I reorganized their bookshelves (they have so many books. They have read 1/3 of them. I dream of that life) and my system was: Classics/books they will never read is top shelf alphabetical by last name. After that it's fiction alphabetical last name. Bottom shelves are reference books: one bookcase is cooking/food/wine, other one is home/garden/repair.

If I ever go home to my parents again I will immediately check those fucking bookcases bc they never put their books back where they goddamn belong. THERES A SYSTEM, GODDAMNIT

I have a very specific system I follow for my own personal library and it's not at all alphabetical by author but it's like. It's. There is a System. Okay. It's a system.

Another game I played was Dictionary. It was a game where I read the dictionary. I was very invested in this. I actually thought it was a fun game and not just me sitting in the corner reading the dictionary aloud to my parents. I loved the dictionary game. If I had a physical dictionary with me right now, I'd still love dictionary game. Maybe this is why I still sometimes read wikipedia articles to fall asleep? Mm, dictionary. My favorite of the A words was Abdicate.

not a childhood thing but when I started having friends that were openly autistic, about 6-7 years ago, I was open w my parents about it and described these friends struggles w communication, eye contact, etc, and my parents were like "...so that sounds a lot like you....do you think.......maybe....you might be autistic????"

oh brian oh sheila. I still have no idea if i am autistic but there is somethin fucked in my brain that shoulda been diagnosed when I was like, ten, at most. It's depression or adhd or autism or somethin the fuck else. But y'all. You missed out on your kid having some serious mental issues. The kind that cannot be fixed with a hug. The brain is broken the brain has been broken since I was a wee little lad.

this isn't a weird kid thing but just like something i'm still mad about after all these years:

When I was little I was hyperliterate. Not even a brag just a fact. I mean I can exemplify this in a few ways but like. I was definitelt hyperliterate. But I wasn't like. Smart smart? if ya know what I mean? Being good at reading and writing doesn't mean you're good at analytical thinking or math or science. But my mom thought that bc I was good at reading/writing I should be in the advanced program at my school. So I tested into the program multiple times and failed multiple times. I think I switched into the gifted program around 2nd grade?

And y'all? I was the worst student in that program. Consistently. I was awful at it. I cried in math class. I was constantly embarassed because everyone around me was smarter and better than me. I wanted to drop out of school, be homeschooled. I have had really bad self esteem issues bc of school since I was so so little.

And when I was like 17 I was going through my old report cards for like. research on a poem I was writing. And I found out I didn't even pass the test to get INTO giftie program. I never passed the test, my mom just called in a favor to someone who worked in admin at the school.

Wouldn't it have just been easier for like....everyone involved? to write up an IEP? I could have been very very happy if I struggled a normal amount in math science etc and just got shifted to another class for reading/writing. I think I would be in a better mental place if that happened, I think I would have learned earlier that like. I don't have to be good at everything.

anyway whatever I should have been asleep two hours ago. gonna make myself some toast and sleep

[andswarwrites]

Day 1

So you want to know what a thousand words looks like and how long it takes to write it?  Read on. 

I remember hearing the groans when our English teacher in Grade 7 told us he wanted us to write a hundred words.  He then wrote out a paragraph on the board and told us: that’s a hundred words.  Up until that point I had counted pages, but he taught us to look at the words, because you can change the font size and make it seem like you have a lot of writing with pages, but numbers don’t lie when you’re counting words.

I've had six English teachers in my life.  Four of them were awesome, and two of them were not.  I have fond memories of English class.  I was taught at home from grades one to six, so my first English teacher was my mom.  She and my dad would bring me to a library that allowed children an unlimited pile of books, and I would take advantage of that.  From the age of three I was an avid reader.  I would come to the check out desk with a pile of books over my head, and the librarians would ask me if I really was going to read all of these books?!

To be honest, I would read about four or five of those books on the trip home.  If I was misbehaving, my mother would threaten me that if I didn't stop, I wouldn't be allowed to read.  There was a series of stories about a community of all sorts of different animals, and it was beautifully illustrated.  This series inspired me to create my own books.  My dad would bring home large sheets of paper from work, which I would fold in two and staple into a book, and then I would make my own illustrations and spin a tale.

When I was old enough to appreciate Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great by Judy Blume, I got inspired to write my own chapter book.  It was thirty-five pages, and I painstakingly colored the pictures.  At age twelve I read my first historical romance: it was Friday's Child by Georgette Heyer.  My mom had a whole shelf full, along with books by Nevil Shute and D. E. Stevenson.  Around that time I fell in love with Anne of Green Gables, as well.  Anne was just as talkative as me.

Of course, my love for historical fiction made me want to write a novel of my own, so that was my one hundred page summer project, which I showed to my English teacher.  The computer on which I wrote that book has long since perished, and I lost my one printed copy, which is just as well, because I am sure it would make me cringe to re-read it.  In my late teens I got an idea for a science fiction novel.  I worked on it but never completed it.  And by Grade 10 my English teacher was once again my mom, and she gave me a project.

Mom told me that I had to write a novel using the old adage to "write what you know".  Up until that point, from the books about animals, to the story of a little sister I wished I'd had, to the romance and the science fiction, my projects had been heavily laced with imagination.  I didn't really want to "write what I knew" at first, because I felt like what I knew was pretty boring and uneventful.  I did have a friend who lived close by, and she and I would hang out a lot.  We had a circle of friends.  I used this as a basis to write a story about friendship.

In my early twenties I hit a rut.  I wanted an original idea, and every time I sat down to write, nothing came to me.  Events were unfolding, however that would lead to my first success with Nanowrimo.  It took three attempts.  I was at home with my six month old baby, and while she would sleep I would write.  Completing that project gave me the confidence I needed to tackle a single sheet of loose leaf I had filled in pencil nearly a decade prior.  It was just the intro to a story, but I couldn't think of how to continue for all that time.

Here's the thing about Nanowrimo: once you figure out how to write a 50K novel in thirty days, it's somehow easier and easier each year you attempt it.  You figure out your own way of doing it.  But in 2021 I decided that in 2022 I would write 365K words in a year: an average of a thousand words a day.  They wouldn't have to be all fiction, but I would also try to write a novel.  This year, I'm writing a thousand words a day, but I'm keeping the fiction goals down to short stories when I feel like writing them.

I do have another idea for a novel.  It seems as though every time I write one, an idea for another takes its place.  It's just that I'm waiting for the idea to fully form in my mind.  You have to be patient with stories.  Sometimes you start one and you have no idea where you are going with it, and you're just along for the ride.  Other times, you've got a few pieces of an idea, and you have to wait to get more pieces to really get a clear picture of what the story will be.

I'm also watching my daughter become a writer in her own right.  She has tons of ideas for stories, she just has to choose one to stick to and complete.  I'm encouraging her to work on one this year, and write it until she reaches the end.  I've also got an idea for a story that we can collaborate on.  My mother is a writer, so my daughter is a third generation writer too.  She's currently reading that novel I wrote in Grade 10, and she likes it.  So, this was a thousand words, and it took me about two hours to write, with a lot of pauses to do other things.  I can’t think of anything else to say for now, so I'll stop here.

[cinefairy]

Y'ALLL!!! when people say that self concept is key they mean: IT. IS. THE. KEY!

here's my success story from focusing on my self concept for a week! just a single week, i am in tears!!

so before, i used to brush off self concept and think that i'll work on it/get a got sc when i get my other desires, which is all wrong. i am so thankful that i let go of the old story, i used to limit myself and wasn't even aware. self concept can easily show you all your desires in the 3d, and then some!! the realisation made my life a 1000x easier.

then i read some posts and success stories that came about all thanks to self concept and i said to myself: that can be me, it is time to stop perceiving myself as a victim/bad manifestor, and i should just start focusing on my self concept! it is time to change the story.

so i started vaunting and ranting and affirming how my self concept is amazing, through the roof, wonderful, perfect, never fails me... you get the story. i didn't even visualize, didn't go into the void, didn't script. i was vaunting in front of the mirror, looking at myself and sometimes pretending i was talking to someone. i repeated that for a week, and almost every day i got some of my desires !!!

now, onto what i manifested:

1. An adorable kitten! my parents never would have gotten me a cat, no matter how much i asked them to, so i just relaxed myself and stepped into the mindset that no matter what anyone in my reality does or says, my desires are here and nothing can stop them. on the second day of the week, my parents asked me if i wanted a cat because my grandparents' cat just gave birth to three cutest kittens.

2. Perfect vision! i am someone who has been wearing glasses my entire life, my sight was deteriorated at birth due to some complications during labor, and my optician told me some years ago that there was no chance for me to be fully recovered (i had a couple of surgeries so far, and constant check-ups, it was so nagging and uncomfortable). she also told me a month ago that i should not use my phone, but nothing can stand between me and my screen time so i just decided to manifest my bad eyesight away! and i did it, but it's weird without my glasses lmao.

3. A new friend group! my old friends were closed-minded people, i am talking unsuportive, bashing on other people, but 'kind' only to others in the friend group, full of negativity and hate. i just needed a fresh friend group, so i manifested one! one of my friends now goes to the same uni as me, we start in october and it's so exciting heheh

4. Fluent in French language! i just wanted to be fluent in a language that wasn't my first language or english, and i had been studying french in elementary school so that seemed like the best option for me.

5. Money! i manifested the amount of my scholarship to double in my bank account and for no one to bat an eye at that, and for a certain amount of money to appear in my wallet daily (yes, spawning thing is so simple with the right mindset!!!), and for my parents to be rich because they deserve it.

6. A perfect dorm room! the dorm rooms my sister had been living in were just not it, so i needed to take thing in my own hands and manifest a two-bed bedroom with it's own bathroom (no communal bathrooms for me pls) in a dorm not far away from college which i share with another friend.

7. Desired body! my figure now is slim, i have 6-line abs odbwkdbajwhj i could only dream of that a month ago, everything on this list makes me so happy!! i went shopping with my mom yesterday and every pair of heans i tried actually fit me which is a big deal for me lol

8. Lenient parents! as i mentioned, my parents were not the ones to let me get a pet, and they also were very strict with my school grades in the past, and with my going out and hanging out with friends. but now, i have a great relationship with them, they are relaxed and they don't forbid me from doing anything (i literally am going on a staycation with a friend this weekend).

9. New clothes! yesterday during shopping, i found so many amazing sweatshirts, even one that is croptopped which i never used to wear, but got the courage to because who else would wear it if not a bad bitch?? i got a denim jacket, some jeans, sneakers... all i need at a discount!!

self concept makes life easy!! asf!! just stay focused on your new reality and there is nothing you can't get! have fun manifesting, and thank you cinefairy for opening my eyes <333

LETS GOOOOO THIS IS SO AMAZING ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ SO PROUD OF YOU ANON WOOW. all these achievements just from affirming how amazing you are.

[faghubby]

Beth and I (Andy) had dated all thru high school, we had met in 9th grade on the first day of school and had been together ever since. We had never been apart more then 10 days. When her family had gone on vacation are junior year. That was also the year Beth lost her virginity but not to me. We had gone to a party, I had drank too much and passed out. While Dan, a star basketball player seduced herin one of the bedrooms. I forgave her instantly. Although she thought we should wait until we where married.

"At least one of us will be pure" She cried. I agreed. Over the years I had gotten a few handjobs on special occasions. Beth would let me kiss and fondle her breast and eventually go down on her. Licking her to orgasms. She thought blowjobs degrading and gross.

Now at 22 years old I saved all my money and bought her a ring, as she was graduating from Community College. She had gone out and partied that night with out me.

"Its a school friend thing, you understand don't you?" Shs had told me.

So the next day I could not wait and rushed to her house to ask her.

"Of course I could never see you not in my life" She told me. When we told her parents they where not surprised. Her mom was excited to plan the wedding. Beth could careless about any of it.

"Do whatever mom" She told her. And walked off.

"Andy, you have to talk to her about this" he mom Clair pleaded

"Of course she is just nervous" I told her. And went to find Beth in the barn.

"Aren't you excited to plan the wedding?" I asked her as she fed her horse an apple

"No, you want all that crap so bad you plan it" She told me.

"Beth what is it?" I asked reaching for her.

"Nothing" She sighed. "Really if you want a big wedding like my mom help her with it. I think it will help you to bond" She kissed me on the cheek. The next day Clair called

"Beth has made it clear that she would like you to help me plan this wedding" She stated

"Yeah that's what she told me as well" I told her

"I will pick you up in an hour, I want to show you some locations" She told me. We spent all day checking out venues and went to a nice lunch at the club. We had a great time. When we got back I found Beth sitting on her porch.

"Did you have a nice time with mom?" She asked

"Yes, it was alot of fun. I never realized how funny she is." I told her. Beth hand slid up my leg.

"I am so glad, you enjoyed yourself" She kissed me as her hand slid inside my pants. She stroked me.

"Your so excited. Just looking at venues imagine what flowers will do" she giggled. She didn't finish just teased me. Until later that night alone in the barn. After that everytime I spent time with her mom planning the wedding she would jerk me off after. I always looked forward to wedding plans. One night we sat on my bed.

"Beth you have to go pick out a dress" I told her.

"Why don't you pick it out" She asked

"You have to try it on at least" I begged.

"Take off your pants" She told me. I jumped up and stripped naked.

She took off her boots and jeans and stood before me in a pink thong and a tee shirt. She slid them off. And used them to jerk me off slowly.

"You get so excited about all this wedding stuff, it's like your the girl." She pinched my nipples ever so softly.

"My virgin bride" She teased. "I have to confess" She told me. I just moaned.

"Its been more then Dan" She stated.

"Its OK, I love you and forgive you" I moaned. She slid down and put her panties around my ankles and pulled them up. I even lifted my butt letting her.

"You look so hot in my panties" She told me rubbing me thru them

"You really forgive me?" She asked

"Yes, I love you no matter what" I told her. Just then I came in her panties.

"Well I can't wear them home" She laughed. She snuggled with me I sat wearing her panties. As she snuggled in only a tee shirt. For over an hour.

"Your perfect" She told me getting and sliding on her jeans commando. "Any other man would have taken advantage of me in this position. You where happy to wear my panties" She teased.

"Keep them, where them tomarrow when mom takes you wedding shopping" She rubbed my nipples. And left she sent me two text the next morning reminding me to wear her panties.

Clair and I went to taste cakes. Then had a late lunch.

"Andy, I don't mean to pry, but why are you wearing panties?" Clair asked when we got In the car. "I noticed when you tied your shoe" She added.

"Beth, asked me to" I stated bluntly.

"Oh, and do you like to wear them?" She asked her curiosity taking over.

"I, well " I tried to find words. Clair pulled over.

"Andy, I didn't mean to get you upset, it's really none of my business" She stated taking my hand.

"Clair, it's alright I was just caught off guard" I explained

"Yes, I find it exciting" I told her. She pulled back on the road and found a quiet lot to park.

"I have so many questions?" She blurted out. "And I feel we have gotten close these past few weeks" She told me.

"Claire what would you like to know?" I said

"So do you wear them while you too have sex?" She asked

"Oh, um we don't have sex. Well we haven't had sex. We have done stuff" I told her.

"Never, so your both virgins?" She stated

"No, Beth cheated on me." I told her

"But you stay true" She sighed. "And you wear her panties" She commented. "Ever worn anything else?" I explained how Beth had teased me about being her virgin bride. It was good to talk to someone about all this. We sat for over an hour and just talked.

When we got back, Beth wasn't home.

"Go up to her room and find a sexy pair of panties to wear for her. Just throw those dirty ones I the hamper" Claire told me.

"I can't do that" I told her.

"Sure you can, would you forgive her if she was out with a man right now?" Claire asked. After the talk we had it kind of excited me that I had waited even if Beth had not. So I went upstairs and was surprised at the sexy panties Beth owned. I found a white satin thong with kisses all over them. And slid them on. I got hard. I liked wearing them or was it just that I shouldn't. I went back downstairs to find Claire. I helped her prepare dinner. She tied a floral print apron with frills around me so I would get dirty. When Beth got back she looked a mess.

"It looks like Beth had a good time" Claire teased me. I felt myself grow in her panties.

"Oh sweety, I was over at Mckinney the horses got out" She blurted out surprised to see me.

"That's OK, your mom and I are making your favorite" I yelled as she ran upstairs and showered.

"Go tell her you understand, sweety" Claire told me. "That she needs a man" I opened her door as she was drying herself. She covered herself quickly

"Andy! Don't you knock" She shouted.

"Sorry, Beth" She dropped the towel thinking it silly.

"Beth, I want you to know that I understand." I told her.

"What are you talking about?"

"I had a long talk with your mom, and understand that you need a man. She explained how a woman needs sex" I told her.

"You, talked with my mom?" She looked confused.

"Its OK, I know you need someone to give you pleasure. I not asking you to stop or even mad about it" I explained

"This is what you and mom talk about?" She was still shocked

"I also did something naughty?" I told her

"You didn't sleep with my mom?" Her eyes shot up

"No" I lowered my pants to show her the panties. She approached me still naked and grabbed my balls.

"I was with Bradley" She stated. My dick was rock hard. "I have had dozens of lovers since are junior year." She told me.

"I understand, you needed sex. As long as you love me" I told her.

"More then ever" she kissed me. "Do you want me?" She asked offering me what I have wanted for so long.

"Yes, but I will wait like we agreed" I told her

"You will wait and wear my panties" She teased jerking me off.

"I love the apron too" She laughed.

"Did, Bradley satisfy you?" I asked.

"Do you really want to know?" Beth looked in my eyes, "Yes he did, he always does. He has a nice big cock. Twice as big as this" She squeezed me. And I flooded her panties.

"Do you want a clean pair?" She asked. I nodded.

"Go ahead pick one out" I found a neon green thong and slid it on. I went to put my jeans back on.

"No, here" Beth handed me a pair of her cut off shorts. I put them on an went back to help Claire. The shorts where very tight. And rode up. If I bent over you could of known the color of my panties.

Claire had put dinner in the oven. She took one look at me and smiled. Beth teased me the rest of the evening. When we went to check on the horses in the barn. I figured she would give me a handjob.

"You like wearing my things" she stated. "You look so hot" She pushed me against a stall and kissed me. "You asked if Brad satisfied me? What where you going to do if he hadn't?" She asked " not fucked me with your little pee pee"

"I could have orally pleased you" I whispered

"Eat my dirty used cunt? Nasty boy" She grabbed my ass. "You can go ho,home, and play with yourself thinking about that" She teased. I didn't make it home instead I jerked off in my car at the end of her driveway. Beth had a job interview the next day. But Claire called me to come over.

"Andy, I did some homework. And figure you are a sissy cuckold" She told me when I got there. She showed me all kinds of information on the internet.

"I think you should shave" She told me.

"I don't think I could do some of that" I pointed at the pages I had read.

"Don't have to do it all silly" She told me but I feel Beth would appreciate some. So I went to shave. It took a long time. Soaking in the master tub. That Beth had filled with all sorts of perfumed bath salts. I thought about what Beth had said about eating her after Bradley. I had read about that as well. Did Beth let men cum inside her?. A knock on the door

"I laid out some clothes for you on my bed" Claire called through the door. I finished up and towels off I felt different. Much more venerable. On the bed I found. A full set of lingerie. Panties and a bra. Pantyhose and a dress. I put on the panties and grabbed a robe and went to find Claire.

"Trouble sweety?" She asked.

"I can't wear" She took my hand and led me back upstairs.

"Its OK, drop the robe." She stated. She ignored my hard dick and helped me put on the bra. The panties where not as tight as the others I had worn. I thought to myself. She showed me how to ball up the pantyhose and put them on. Then the simple sun dress.

"How do you feel" She asked

"Very sexy" I told her.

"Good, I have a question, how do you feel about you wearing the wedding dress?" She asked.

"I don't know, what would Beth say?" I asked

"We can ask her" She told me.

"Do you want some alone time?" She looked down at my little bulge in the dress.

"Beth says I should ask her before I do that" I told her.

"Then we better do something to take your mind off it" She grabbed my hand. Again I was given an apron and set about cleaning the house.

"Beth is going to want a clean house when she comes home everyday" Claire told me. She showed me how to do laundry and clean up. When Beth got home I met her at the door.

"Omg, look at you" She was stunned. Claire explained that I was a sissy cuckold. And that I would love to wear the wedding dress.

"By all means, I will find a tux" She told me. "I am going out to celebrate getting the job" She told me. "With some of the girls.......

No that's not true, Brad is taking me to dinner then back to his house" She confessed. Why don't you stay here and help mommy" She patted me on the cheek.

It was Claire that pushed forward with my feminization. She had me style my hair and do my make up. Got my eared pieced.

I made her my maid of honor. Brad was best man. I wore a princess style wedding dress. And took on all the brides roles. Finally are wedding night came. And Beth laid me down in bed. And had me orally please her. Then she pulled out a strap on and after some convincing I agreed to let her try. She fucked me. It hurt but I enjoyed it. I had cum all over my belly. She then slipped cage over my penis and locked it.

"You are my chaste bride. I never want you to know the feeling of fucking. Just being fucked." Everyday of the trip she fucked me. Two or three times. In every position she could think of. She also taught me how to suck her new cock.

When we returned home, all my things where at Claire's my family having disowned me after the wedding. The first night Beth spent the night At Brad's. I became the sweet daughter Claire had always wished for. I took care of all the house chores and cooking. She never had to raise a finger. And twice a week she spent the night in real man's bed. Claire would take me shopping, or get my nails done. While Beth made sure to keep my ass well used.