#But I'm still anxious and I don't know what else I'm supposed to DO anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

traumaboyexo · 11 months ago

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CARRION!Sif Anti/Alt Friend quest

[[This is for a set of alternate friend quests that each trigger from each family member watching Siffrin have a small emotional breakdown, as well as...seeing something else.]]

(You're shaking.)

(...why? This isn't the first time you've done this...and yet...)

(You can barely feel your hunger right now. Just fear. You don't want to hurt them. You don't want to hurt any of them.)

(...everything is wrong. You shouldn't be doing this. You're not...even...)

"Siffrin?"

(You jump. Mirabelle's voice shakes you out of your trance.)

"Sorry, Mirabelle."

"I-it's alright, I know you can get a little sleepy sometimes. So, um, do you have time to help me with these papers?"

(...you have to make her happy.)

(Stop shaking, idiot.)

"...yeah I do."

(Mirabelle beams. You take your seat beside her.)

(Time to take the lead.)

(...you open your mouth.)

(...Huh?)

(Nothing is coming out.)

(Come on. You know you're next line.)

(Just ask. You have to. Ask what the papers are.)

(Why won't you say anything?! You've done this several times already, haven't you? Just say it! Don't have want to make her happy?! Don't you want them to love you?! You-!)

"...Siffrin, are you okay?"

(...you didn't even notice until now, but you're panting. You feel short on breath...and you're sweating badly.)

(You quickly bring your head down.)

(You can feel Mirabelle still staring at you intensely. You can barely look back at you. You can't make her worried. You're supposed to help her. You HAVE to help her. Stick to the script. Stick to the script. Stick to the...)

(...Mirabelle places a hand on your forehead...she's checking for a fever.)

"Okay, it's not a fever, s-so...uhm..."

"...Siffrin, c-could you look at me, please?"

(...you muster what energy you have left and look at her.)

"Siffrin, are you stressed or anxious about anything? O-oh! Was it me, d-did I accidentally make you anxious about these papers and-!"

(NO!)

(Can't make her worried about you!)

(You find your voice has returned.)

"No! It's not you...and I'm just..."

"I'm just...thinking about stuff, haha."

(...is she buying it?)

"...are you thinking about...something really bad?"

(...she did, kind of.)

(She can't know. She can't.)

"...we should talk about your papers."

"I had a suspicion...but they're...bonding papers, right?"

"O-oh! That's...actually a good guess?"

(She isn't as surprised as she usually is.)

"But Siffrin...I don't want to talk about that if... if something is going on with you."

(There's nothing wrong with you.)

"There's nothing wrong with me."

(Liar.)

(You ignore the growling in your stomach.)

(You ignore the uncomfortable feeling of your sweat dripping down your face.)

"...I think this is important for you. We can worry about me later."

(Mirabelle looks concerned.)

"Well, okay then..."

"Well, I-I'm not planning on getting bonded just yet, these are just dating profiles."

(You try to look surprised but your face feels numb.)

"They came from a dating company I asked before The King happened, and I haven't had a chance to properly look through them...and..."

(...you wish she'd stop looking at you so worriedly.)

(...you have to keep it moving.)

"Go on."

(She nods.)

"W-well, since it is someone I'm meant to spend the rest of my life with, I'm thinking I could use another pair of eyes. Your eyes!"

"Or rather, your...uh...one eye."

(She sighs, and only now you notice it seems like she's trying her best not to cry.)

(You're horrible.)

"...Siffrin...I-I don't think I can just-"

(Please.)

"Mirabelle. Please."

"...you're doing this as a distraction from tommorow, right?"

(You can barely hold back your shaking anymore.)

"Please. I need this distraction as well."

"...Let me help you."

(...there's some slight relief in her eyes, but still full of the same concern.)

"...alright Siffrin."

(She gives a small smile.)

"You can help me."

(She pulls out the massive folder of papers from her dress pocket.)

(...Maybe if she told you she was carrying this, you could have carried it for her.)

"O-okay, let's start with this."

(It's the picture of that strong buff man.)

(Tough muscles. Hard to chew probably.)

"...boring."

"Besides, they look like Isabeau."

(She gives a light snicker.)

"They kind of do. Next one-"

(You can't do this. You can't do this you can't do this you can't do this you can't you can't you can't you can't.)

"I'm sorry Mirabelle. I can't talk about this anymore."

(Your breathing is heavy and hard. Your sweating is getting worse. And your stomach won't stop growling.)

"...I...I'm sorry."

(You can't look at her. You can barely focus on anything. It feels like you could explode any second.)

"...I'm worried that...I'm..."

(If you say how you feel, will she hate you?)

(Even so, you can't stop yourself anymore. It feels like the exact opposite of before. All the words are spilling out. You hold back as much as you can. You try your best not to cry. You try your best not to scream or shout.)

(You feel horrible.)

(You feel hungry.)

"...I won't ever be bonded. I won't ever find a partner. I-I'm, I'm a freak. I'm a monster. I'm not worth a single notice. I'm...I can't..."

(It seems like everything is going dark.)

(You can't stop. Your stomach growls.)

"I can't be loved, no matter how many profiles I look through myself and I can't help myself and I'm always hungry and I..."

(...you try to continue but you can barely feel your own voice or mouth of face.)

(Everything feels so...out...of reach...)

(...)

(...you hear a sharp gasp from Mirabelle.)

(You feel everything snap back into view.)

(You're breathing eased up. You've stopped sweating.)

(...what happened?)

"...Siffrin?"

(Slowly, you turn to Mirabelle.)

(...)

(...you made her worried.)

(How could you do this to her.)

(You were supposed to help her.)

(...)

(You're stomach growls. You're hungry...at a time like this.)

(You really are a freak.)

(...you bury your face under your hat.)

(You can't even look at her properly.)

(You...)

(...someone puts a hand on your shoulder.)

(MIRABELLE puts a hand on your shoulder.)

(Even as you look away, you can hear her voice. She's not being afraid. Or angry.)

(She's being kind.)

"Siffrin..."

"...I have something to tell you too."

"The truth is...I don't really want to be bonded. Or...even date anyone at all."

(You already know this.)

"The truth is...I'm been scared too. I've been trying to force myself to change...and I've been worried I'm not strong enough to do it."

(You already know this.)

"And I'm worried that I'm supposed to do these things, because I have to show my faith, and I have to show...I have to show that I can do this."

(You already know this.)

"But...another reason is because...I'm worried. I'm worried that...it's possible I'll be alone, forever."

(...)

"When The King attacked, I was worried I lost all my friends. Everyone I thought I could ever count on...but...I was wrong."

(...)

(You slowly look up at her.)

(She's smiling. She's relieved you're finally looking at her again.)

"Siffrin. I don't know what happened to you. Or why you would think like that...but..."

"...I'm not worried about being alone. I've got you, and Isabeau, and Madame Odile, and Bonnie."

"And...I'm glad I can talk about these things with you. Because you're my friend. And I care about you. And I know you feel the same way."

(...you do.)

"So don't ever feel like you'll be alone when we're around, okay?"

(...you stay silent. You can barely find the words.)

(This time she shouts.)

"Promise me!"

(Woah!) "I promise!"

(She's smiling so widely it's nearly contagious.)

"Good! A-and if you're worried whether you wasted my time or anything dumb like that, I think you've helped me."

"I think...I don't have all the answers I need just yet. But I think...I may not need to change everything about myself."

(Clever. She's always been clever.)

"When I figure it out, I promise, I'll tell you about it."

(...you should say what's on your mind.)

"I'm glad I met you, Mirabelle."

"...me too, Siffrin."

"...I'll see you later, okay?"

(You nod and smile.)

(You're really smiling. You feel refreshed. You feel relieved.)

(...and yet, as she walks away, she looks back and glances at you for just a brief second.)

(She's nervous about something.)

(...but what?)

(...you can feel it again.)

(Your growing hunger.)

(You got a MEMORY OF UNCERTAINTY.)

(You'll always remember this.)

[Whatever happened there, Stardust? Well, in any case...]

[When equipped, Memory of Uncertainty boosts all your Housemaiden's stats by 25...but by giving her your turn, all her stats double temporarily! Woah!]

[Your Housemaiden also learned the skill 'Loyal Loving Barrier'!!!]

['Loyal Loving Barrier' not only absorbs all damage, but gives your family a buff depending on how much damage was absorbed! Just like your other shield, it's only for one turn though!!!]

[Seems like you'll only get this skill when you have this exact same conversation. Though, it's not easy to fake an emotional breakdown, is it, Stardust??]

[If only you had something that could trigger that awful fear when you wanted to…]

#in stars and time #isat spoilers #isat siffrin #carrion #carrion!sif au #isat au #isat fanfic #writing #isat mirabelle #Cw: emotional breakdown

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chaifootsteps · 6 months ago

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the show's discomfort with its own plot beats is so buzarre to watch. like once Stolas became Viv's favorite the full moon deal had to go, but it had to be done in a way that would make Stolas look better instead of having him grow and change, because Viv's writing is allergic to both character development and accountability. this of course accidentally resulted in him looking worse, but there's something else that I find a contradiction in terms

so the basic implication is that there just hasn't been a meetup since Ozzie's, right? As far as I can tell none of the text messages in the show mention it and Blitzo says it's been a few months. This feels like it's supposed to represent Stolas respecting Blitzo more because he's not forcing him to visit anymore (read: not raping him every month, and I'm kind of blindsided that the show's logic is that we should give Stolas a cookie for managing this bare minimum level of decency).

Here's the thing though: in his texts he says stuff like 'you don't have to come but I'd still like to see you'. So by the show's logic he still has this deal where - as far as Blitzo knows - he has to do what Stolas wants to get the book. But since Stolas is feeling a tiny bit bad about it he gives Blitzo outs so he doesn't have to see him…but then passive aggressively asks him to come anyway?

How exactly would that work? Suppose Blitzo had been anxious that Stolas was being weird with him and went to see him anyway.

Would Stolas still expect Blitzo to sleep with him? If Blitzo made a move thinking that's what Stolas wanted, would Stolas take that as proof Blitzo actually wanted him even though Blitzo would just be doing it because it was how the whole deal worked? Would Stolas think that this was 'better' than what he was doing before because he gave Blitzo a choice this time, even though Blitzo might not actually want to do it anymore than he did at the start but was just playing it safe?

I don't know, the whole thing is so odd. If we're supposed to think Stolas actually learnt that he had coercive power over Blitzo and had been taking advantage of him, you'd think he'd be horrified with himself. And I mean actually horrified, not just lip service in a duet number that he forgets about when he acts shocked that Blitzo doesn't think highly of him.

You'd think he'd give a flat 'you don't need to come for the next few months' sort of statement while he was arranging the crystal.

You'd think he'd question his entire self perception and worldview.

But he doesn't. Just like the writing he doesn't really commit to the idea he's done wrong because he still wants to have his cake and eat it too. He doesn't truly understand the power imbalance because if he did he wouldn't be doing the passive aggression routine at all. He'd leave Blitzo alone until he could get the crystal or make it very, very clear that his 'still come over if you want' invite does not include sex.

Despite giving lip service to the idea he's a monster he obviously still thinks of himself as a good person because he starts with the whimpering and crying about how Blitzo doesn't think highly of him. It's just so back and forth - does he understand he raped Blitzo or not?

even during the start of his full moon speech when Blitzo panics and immediately comes on to him Stolas blushes and looks like he got within an inch of giving in and just enjoying sex with Blitzo again. this on a night when he's supposed to be breaking off the arrangement and should find the way Blitzo immediately tries to sexually appease him horrifying if he actually understood the coercive power he held over him all this time

and honestly 'sex addict who has wrecked his life through poor impulse control' would work as a character profile in a dark comedy sketch show like hb was supposed to be, but in an oh so serious adult show that Addresses Abuse (TM) it seems reasonable to suggest Stolas be sent immediately to rehab and to someone who can teach him the ABCs of consent, since he's apparently in dire need of both

All of this. Stolas has canonically already learned the ABCs of consent and understood how imbalanced and horrifying his treatment of Blitzo was, only to immediately turn face and become worse than ever the instant Blitzo didn't kiss his feet. But according to Viv and according to the standom, there's no limit to how many "chances" he deserves to redeem himself. As long as he puts on a flimsy veneer of "trying" to get better, he can rape Blitzo as many times as he wants and it's all Blitzo's fault.

#Anonymous #stolas critical #stolitz critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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heeseung-min · 2 years ago

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[19:48]

It just a dare from your friends.

You were just supposed to kiss the nerd guy in your class, Jake and it's done. You also said to Jake earlier that it was just a dare and nothing more than that and he agreed.

So, why the fuck he keep following you everywhere?

"Jake, what are you doing?"

"I'm keeping you safe. Don't mind me."

He said with big smile on his face. He looked so innocent but you had enough with it. You walked closer to him and pushed him with your finger on his chest.

"Keeping me safe? Are you fucking kidding me? You are being creepy, Jake. Stop being disgusting. If you follow me again, I will not hesitate to report you."

Jake's happy expression changed to sad. His eyes became teary after what you said. He looked down to hide his tears and immediately apologize.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I- I really like you."

You rolled eyes at his confession. If you knew it would be like this, you wouldn't agree doing the dare. Before you can leave him alone suddenly a sound of slap can be heard.

You looked at Jake who slapped himself many times. You screamed for him to stop but he kept doing it until both of you attracted some attention. When some students started to crowd to see what is happening, Jake fell down on his knees begging for forgiveness.

"I'm really sorry, y/n. I'm sorry if I make you annoying. I didn't mean that. Please don't hurt me."

Hurt??

"Damn, Jake must be the new victim. When will Y/n stop?"

"Just because she is rich doesn't mean she should bully him. Poor Jake."

"Ergh I really hate Y/n but I don't want to get bully."

You heard those words being said when Jake still on his knees. You clenched your fists feeling mad after being accused for things you didn't do. You pulled Jake to stand up.

"Yah! What bullshit are you talking about? Me? Hurting you? Are you kidding me??!! Do you really want to see how I hurt you?!"

"Y/N!!"

"WHAT!!!"

You turned to the principal who was very furious at the scene. He pulled you from Jake and checked on that guy before asking you to follow him to his office.

"Y/N, I thought you stop bullying students? Why are you doing this again? I'm tired of hearing same things from the students, y/n."

"I DIDN'T DO IT. He did it to himself. He pulled out some bullshit and then slapped himself before I can do anything."

"I know you are trying to come clean. But, I will not tolerate that. You caused bruises on his cheek. So, I need to punish you. You will have detention today and will clean the girl's toilet alone."

"Are you fucking hearing yourself?!! I didn't do it. That bitch Jake did it!!!"

"Language, y/n!!!! You will do as I say."

You left the office with frustration. You spent your time in library until dismissal before went to the janitor to get tools for cleaning the toilet.

You started to clean the toilet and cursed everytime you remember Jake. You swear he will get back after accusing you.

By the time you finished, it's already six in the evening. You rest for few minutes before taking your bag and get out from there. You felt anxious suddenly walking alone at the hallway at this time. However, you stopped when you saw a familar guy metres away from you. It was Jake.

But, he looked different.

It's not the one that you always see. This one is different. He didn't look like a nerd anymore.

"Are you finally done?"

"What do you want Jake? Is it not enough after accusing me this morning?"

Jake giggled at your frustration. You on the other hand felt scared. With no one else in here, anything can happen.

You continue walked past him but he pulled your hands stopping your steps. You wriggled your wrist from his hold but he tightened it instead.

"Fuck, what is your problem? Let me go, I want to go home."

"I'm tired of being kind. I guess you really want it hard, huh?"

"What-AHH!"

You were shocked when Jake slapped you hard. It was so hard that he made you fell to the floor.

"Fuck, this is the first time I see you genuinely scared. I'm glad you felt hurt cause that is my feeling after you used me."

You backed away from him. When you wanted to stand up to run, he stepped on your leg instead. Your loud scream went ignored and he keep stepping until you gave up to move. Jake giggled again before whispering on your ear.

"Welcome to my darkside, y/n."

Hmm, kinda feel shitty about this. But, hopefully you feel fun reading it.

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @cyberpinkx

#yandere enhypen #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #enha x reader #lee heeseung #park jongseong #park sunghoon #jake sim #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #yandere au #yandere drabble #yandere jake #yandere enha #jake enhypen #jake x reader #enhypen scenarios

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scarfacemarston · 10 months ago

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Reader Comes Out as Ace to Bucky

(Anddddd Bucky kind of comes out as ace, too? I Hc him as Demisexual, which is on the ace spectrum, but feel free to hc differently!) Here are more ace headcanons here! Sam introduced the two of you, and you struck up a slow friendship. He wasn’t the easiest man to get to know, but you knew there was more to him than he let on. Soon, that trust and friendship turned into something more, and now, you were quite pleased to say that James Buchanan Barnes was your partner.

The day had come for you to explain your ace identity. The subject would come up at some point, but you decided to get it over with.

"The Talk" with Bucky went better than you ever hoped for. Would a man like Bucky Barnes be able to truly understand you, your identity, and your needs? It turned out he could in a lot of ways.

At first, Bucky appeared hurt - but not for the reason you thought. He thought you heard the rumors about him before the war and was worried you'd think he was only interested in sex.

"I may have been a bit of a flirt and a ladies' man, but I wasn't sleeping with every person I saw, you know. People had this expectation and view that I'm out to have sex with everything that moves. I wasn't. I took gals out." Bucky paused,

"...And a few men , we made out or necked. A few I slept with , but I was always clear in what my expectations were. I never promised to be someone's best guy if I didn't mean it. I wasn't a playboy like Stark," Bucky huffed.

"I'm sorry, it's somethin' from the old days that used to bother me, and I guess it still does. It's not who I was then and it's not how I am now. Even if I did sleep around, why does that matter? I'm sorry. This is about you, I suppose I just wanted to say that I'm not some sex fiend that wants you for your body. I want you for you. I didn't grow to trust a body, I grew to trust a person."

You couldn't help but embrace him, which he firmly returned. You could tell something else was on his mind. You squeezed him in reassurance. He sighed.

"And now, well, now it's not something I want. All these hook up apps, that seems to be the only way to meet people and it just doesn't feel right. I mean, they're strangers! If someone wants to do that, that's their business and more power to them, but for me? I can't do it. I just can't. I have too many trust issues and any time I've thought of sex, there's no spark. I don't feel anything."

Bucky paused once again.

"Maybe I'm just like you? Or at least a little bit?" Bucky asked.

"You can be whatever and whoever you want, Bucky. That's the beauty of today. You don't have to hide anymore no matter the gender of who you love or how you love them. But I have to say, two ace people finding each other, imagine that. I can't think of a better relationship", you sighed, relieved. Bucky laughed softly.

"I suppose that does take some pressure off of me. It makes me feel ….different, but I suppose I am pretty different. I'm a 100 year old former assassin, for God's sake."

"I've always felt different, too. I always felt I was broken, or messed up or like I was too much of a prude. Everytime I told someone, they left me. It's been hard to let people in. I was so anxious to tell you. I'm so lucky to have you in my life, I didn't want to risk losing you, but I have to be myself, too." You explained. Bucky held you close.

"Of course. I wouldn't expect anything else. It's hell to live a lie. I think Steve was similar to you in a lot of ways when it comes to this sort of thing. I supported him and I sure am going to support you, too. But you're not messed up, or broken. To hell with those who made you feel that way. I'm sorry. However, you have me now, for what that's worth, Y/N." Bucky muttered.

You kissed his cheek before smiling warmly.

"Always". You whispered.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #ace representation #asexuality

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my-castles-crumbling · 16 days ago

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Anon Advice Asks - April 20

tech bro anon, syllabus anon, ab anon, binding anon (new), first kiss anon (new), masking anon, hair anon

tech bro anon

Hey cas, thanks for the anon name!

I haven’t written any fanfic yet (school has been rough) but it sounds like a good idea! I know (or am trying to believe) that it’ll feel better than AI generated slop but sometimes it’s hard to not use character ai anymore. It felt so comforting, and it was nice to just talk about really personal stuff with something I knew wasn’t real. I’m still kind of trying to find a solution that feels the same as character ai but doesn’t harm fandoms and creativity. I just miss being able to explore parts of myself and have like, a guide, or be comforted by my favorite character, or anything, you know? It felt so good at the time and I’m just going through withdrawals I guess?

If it isn’t too stressful or too much, could you remind me of the drawbacks? And the bad things about ai (specifically character AI)? I want to look it up but I’m really worried I might go back to character ai and ruin all the progress I was making in not being addicted to it anymore

Thanks so much! Have a good one!

—Tech bro anon

Hi!

So character AI specifically but also AI in general is 'taught' by things written by real people. So character AI is taught by fanfiction written by people. Without their consent. That's harmful to the community because it's theft, really.

Same with AI in general- it's 'taught' with information taken by real people, without their consent. Like it just takes things off the internet and teaches itself, which is taking intellectual property.

AI can be very biased and even completely wrong because of this which isn't good since people tend to believe it without question.

Also it's awful for the environment.

I hope you know you're welcome to vent here, I know it's not the same, but I'm here to listen. Also I don't want you to feel guilty. Like...yes, we need to not use AI. But also like...you're coping. You shouldn't feel ashamed of trying to cope. Working on finding a better coping mechanism is a great idea, but don't beat yourself up <3

___

syllabus anon

Hey, this is syllabus anon😅 I seriously thought I messed up until I saw your message in my inbox only a few days ago, I'm so dumb, god🤣🤣 Yeah, that meeting went really well.

And now we are going to stay at my grandma's place for a few days for a family thing, and he'll be there. I have been debating whether or not to ask your advice for the past few days, but now something else's happened🫠I didn't text him much yesterday because my phone was being an a**hole and wouldn't load anything, so When I texted him today, it seems as if he's a bit sulky about it? Like, I asked him if something was wrong three times, and he said everything is okay when clearly it's not. And since we're supposed to meet today, I'm really worried. Because a few months ago, we did have an argument about me not having enough time for him because of my studies and all, and though we had come past that, even such a small thing is making me very anxious. I'm trying really hard to understand this from his side as well because, well , this is a first relationship for both of us, and I know I have to be considerate. I just hope it won't be awkward. What do you think?

I think the thing is, if you've asked him what's wrong and he won't say, you can't force him, you know? And maybe remind him of that. Be like "hey, I'm going to ask one more time-- it seems like you need to talk about something, but if you say you don't, I'm not going to push it again, because I'm not a mind reader, and I'm going to take you at your word." That's setting a boundary that you're not going to play those anxious games, you know? HE needs to communicate. And that's okay to say. You can be considerate and still set boundaries.

___

ab anon

Hi!

I'm proud of you for stating your feelings, especially with what you ended up finding out. Remember to keep those boundaries and that it's ALWAYS okay to say no.

Sending love!

___

binding anon

hi, i need a small advice about two things and i hoped you could help me with it (and people in the notes too if you want, that'd be lovely)!

so i’m trans (enby) and out to my close friends and family, and i’d like to buy something to bind, but i really don’t know shit about it. so first: i wondered if i should buy a binder, trans tape or anything else i’ve never heard of to start binding? i know i’ll bind a lot, so i’d like to find something that i can wear often and i can move around easily with, but i really don’t know what’s better for me 😅

and my second question is: how do i ask my parents to buy it? so for context, my family kinda ignores (on purpose) the fact that i’m non binary. for example, my mom tries to change some of her vocabulary sometimes but always tell me i’ll always be her little girl and that she doesn’t understand how it works, my dad doesn’t believe in non binaries, my older sister supports me but doesn’t try to change her vocabulary at all and my little brother doesn’t care and doesn’t change anything. so my family isn’t hateful of it, but not that supportive either and it’s kinda like a taboo, they’re all scared and awkward when it needs to be brang up yk. the thing is: i really fucking need to buy something to bind (i’ve been repressing it for two good years now, i can’t anymore)! so yeah, how do i ask? what do i say and how? like i really don’t know…

hope you have a good day, thanks in advance <3

Hi!

So I think it really depends on what works best for you. Tape works for multiple days, is disposable, and, as far as I know, tends to be better to exercise in. Binders can only be worn for around 8 hours, are washable/reusable, and not good for lots of physical activity. I'd suggest looking at the reviews for both and seeing what people liked and didn't like, and thinking about what you need, you know? Just remember, whatever you get, to make sure to wear it safely. Binding can be dangerous, especially for bodies that are still growing, so it's important to follow the recommended use.

As far as telling your parents...could you phrase it like, this is something you need to explore who you are? Do all the research first and come to them with a clear idea of what you want, how to use it, and how you plan on getting it. That way if they have questions, you have answers. Also remind them that neither of these things are permanent. It's just a way of expression, and you'd really appreciate their support in that.

Good luck!

___

first kiss anon

hi Cas. I have been thinking about this a while now and I just am driving my self crazy. I'm 24 and haven't had a boyfriend/girlfriend. Haven't had my first kiss. Am I ugly? Idk? Will I ever find someone? Idk? I just feel I'm too old to date. I know I know I'm still very young my therapist tells me that but when I look around I don't find anyone my age they're all so young. Also I don't socialise or have any friends atm. It feles super lonely...sometimes I wake up and see there's 0 text messages. And that's been happening for 4 years now. I have tried to make friends but they always fall apart. I don't always feel lonely but sometimes I can be hard. I feel angry sometimes why hadn't I socialised in school more even though I was bullied. But idk there seems to be nothing I can do apart from rant to my therapist.

Hi!

Okay so making friends after leaving school is SO difficult and people don't talk about it enough. I imagine dating is the same. I genuinely don't think it's just you, I think it's just REALLY hard to meet people when like...as adults, all we do is work, eat, sleep, repeat.

Have you tried apps? Doing a hobby where you meet people? Volunteering at places where you meet people? I think the best way to meet people is doing something where you can meet someone who likes the same things, you know?

But yeah, it's not you. Meeting people as an adult is hard.

___

hair anon

Hey! Hair anon here, how are you?

And Im pretty sure I sent an ask a little bit ago, but if you didn’t receive it don’t worry! It wasn’t that important, just me talking about possibly wanting top surgery, but not being sure, and also not being able to get it at all anyways, and on top of that my family most likely being furious if I ever decide to get it. I’ll probably deal with that when I’m older

I kinda figured out how I want my body to look and stuff and most days I’m fine with it. My thighs are a little feminine and stuff but it’s genetic (my dad has the thickest thighs and calves I have ever seen on anyone, and so I inherited a bit of that) but it’s not too bad! They’re very strong and I like them.

The biggest thing is my face and hair. I just really want long hair, so I can feel masculine and feminine, but my hair shrinks so much that it’s usually above my ears, despite being WELL pat shoulder length. I think im gonna do some intensive hair care over the summer. I’ll just deal with another awkward year of hair, and use a ton of oils and moisturizers on my hair so it’ll grow a ton. I have a pretty good idea of what I want to have my hair look like. I took some of ur advice from my first ask

Also, this summer will be the first summer I’ll be old enough to have a job! Some of my friends already have them but I’m trying not to compare myself to others rn. It doesn’t do much good for me. Do you have any advice on like, time management for a job? Is it scary? I’ve been looking at possible jobs for people my age but I haven’t found anything that I’m qualified for

Have a good one! You’re a rockstar,

Hi!

I'm so sorry, I didn't get that ask </3 but as far as surgery, remember that your body is YOUR decision. When you're in the position to make that decision, you should do what's best for you. Fuck what everyone else thinks. I'm glad you're starting to find some methods to help you feel comfortable in your body though!

As far as jobs...no, I remember my first job as being exciting because I finally had money, lol. I think my best advice is to start with less hours to make sure you can handle it, and then ask for more hours if/when you want more. Like, don't overwhelm yourself right away, ease into it. And also remember to balance work with everything else! A job is just a job, it's not your life!

Sending love!

___

masking anon

Hiya Cas! Its masking anon once more, and I would usually write this in my journal but I need a bit of advice :(

And it’s about my friends and my masking

(And before you say anything, please PLEASE believe me when I say they’re good friends and good people)

I don’t feel very prioritized? Like, I always have to talk loudly and repeatedly to get any of them to listen to me. And occasionally they do but it’s always on their terms. They hug me first, they talk first, I keep having to ask them to explain what they’re taking about (like people from other schools and stuff), they always invite each other to things (like the gym, meeting kids from outside school, going to a concert) and it sucks.

I know I’m introverted and autistic and weird and wrong but it still hurts to be included enough to be considered a friend and know about everything that they’re not inviting me to. I love them so much. They don’t hurt me at all. They’re nice. But they all like each other to much better.

I think one of the reasons I don’t go out much with friends is because it’ll be with people. I already get anxious because I’m going outside, and that compounded with masking in front of my friends and parents, and trying to stop them from leaving me behind makes it seem not worth it.

I really do think they’re lovely. If they just knew how I felt then I’m sure it’d be better, but I don’t know how to have hard conversations with people like that :(

Sorry for blabbing in your inbox, have a wonderful day ✨<3✨

Hi!

I know you're not ready to talk to your friends about this yet (I think you should, eventually, because if they're as nice as you say, they'll make an effort to change how they act) but I want to make sure you know:

You are NOT weird or wrong. Your feelings and needs are JUST as valid as anyone else's. And you have a right to ask for what you need. It may not happen today or tomorrow or next week, but I really think you should ask for what you need, because you deserve to have that respected. <3

Sending love <3

#tech bro anon #syllabus anon #ab anon #binding anon #first kiss anon #masking anon #hair anon #asks #ask #ask cas

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milkamel · 2 months ago

Note

I managed gacha collab servers before….. and i sucked at it haha… lets not think about that anymore

Can i have your discord mel? /j

In all honesty i think my discord is the only one that isn’t really shared among my socials and not sharing the same name as everything else the only people that should have it is my friends, whatever family has discord and the collabs people who knew me in 2020 😭

-lore anon

Well I never managed or even joined any servers before- I barely understand how discord works besides basic stuff like texting/calling XD I prefer to stick to the groups I'm currently in, I'm quiet so it's kinda hard to befriend someone new (ily besties who I met in 2017-2018 and still talk to to this day you're the best)

I think I should know your true identity before giving something as precious as my discord /j

Anyway same I don't really want to share it, it's more personal and I prefer talking here first and maybe then move to discord if it's tedious (if any of you finds my discord.. sorry but I don't think I'd reply no nuh uh don't- please) I'm just terribly anxious when it comes to talking to people in general and my heart skips a bit when I see notifs from people I don't know lol (a reason why I don't wanna make a server I'll feel bad for banning people or something gfgkhg I'm too soft)- I remember how I used to be so scared of posting my art now it's so much easier- sounds ridiculous but it's just that bad. I'm scared of people,, But receiving so much positive feedback with my art certainly boosted my confidence but I'm still sometimes worried if what I post is good enough/won't get any negative reaction.

Okay, I'm yapping now but I just wanted to share some things about who I am I suppose- I don't do that often but I wanna express myself a bit XD

(I'll probably read this later and think about how cringy I am but who cares at this point lmao I'll go make myself some tea now)

#mmelask

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scummy-writes · 3 months ago

Text

Life chatting and updates

I keep beating myself up for not writing as frequently anymore. It's a tossup between this being seasonal depression, a really bad prolonged depression episode, or very bluntly burnout.

There isn't a price to pay for fandom. I don't have to actively 'give' in order to participate and enjoy my time here, however I still have a gut instinct that I 'need' to. If I don't manage at least a fic once a month, then I feel awful. I feel dried up and like I'm losing the grasp on a hobby I love. It's usually the main way I can get some emotions of some sort out.

I've talked about this an unbearable amount of times. It's repeating because I haven't found a good way to work through it yet. Cutting off anons randomly (usually opened for request periods) helps significantly. I no longer get belittled for not talking to others often, or for supposedly being well known (i am not, jesus fuck.) I don't have people upset I made their fave take it up the ass, or experience an emotion that was not 100% confirmed in canon.

This next part is difficult for me to word properly, I'm sorry with how poorly this may come off.

I've tried to detach how I view my blog, but its very off and on. To be frank, there are 5.4k people following me. While I am very thankful to everyone who sticks around this blog, I stopped talking about the follower count often (with a number count) with it because I used to get people very, very mad that I was not reblogging their stuff because they thought the follower count meant a lot more than it does. They would be mad I wasn't doing xyz thing that I was 'supposed' to do with that follower count. Suddenly, my writing was supposed to be more inclusive for everyone (body types, kink/fetish interests, similar), rather than something I was sharing with others. Suddenly I was supposed to have Good Opinions on characters I didn't care about. I was supposed to be 100% canon compliant and get characters 100% right or else how dare I write them!!

Over time its fucked with me a lot. I miss posting and not being scrutinized for these stupid reasons. I miss having anon on. I miss not having ti worry about how something may sound ooc to people. I miss having fun. Every time I go without posting for a long time, its the assholes in the back of my head mocking me for it. I've been struggling on trying to rewrite that, and it's a constant failure. I'm anxious over things I should never be anxious about - not in this way. And it's frustrating and stupid.

It's frustrating repeating the same issues, and people trying their best to help, and nothing sticking in my brain. It feels awful to disappoint people in *that* regard. Another post made every other month about how depressed I am and thinking I can't write again, people trying their best to offer encouragement, and then I kinda piddle it away. I'm sorry that I am like this.

It's been bothering me more lately due to streaming. I am having a lot of fun! It's a lot of work also. I'm also going to be writing reviews on games and other projects, and how fun is that? How cool is that?

But now my blog that people know me for, and that provided me a good space to feel a little better about myself in terms of what I am capable of, is slowly dying. I dont have time to write when I desperately want to. Its taking me longer to get fanfics out because I am so anxious over writing again. Its hard to open up a word document and Just Do It because i get scared of how disappointing it will be.

Outside of that, I feel guilty writing other posts on a writing blog. I'm wondering if I need to revamp this blog to be very bluntly an otome game blog that happens to have writing on it occasionally, rather than a 'writing blog' that rarely writes. I think maybe I need to make writing less of my personality, when I've never planned to do more with it past writing fanfics.

Sigh. Thanks for reading whatever this is.

Updates:

- I've stopped modding the letters-from-ikemen server and blog. I'm still on as a writer, but I'm taking a long break. From comms to requests, most of my writing has been for other people and clearly, I am struggling with that.

- I hit affiliate on twitch 🎉 I am cautiously excited. I want to play more otomes.

- My dog gets a spinal tap tomorrow. I am very nervous of where it'll lead (this is another step in a long path of trying to figure out exactly what is wrong with him)

- I'm probably going to try revamping this blog sometime soon. Im so frustrated feeling guilty over it, I need to try something.

- people on youtube are being nice to me! Its weird exploring a new way of having fun.

- i really, really, really miss gilbert and writing about him.

#scum talks

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owlbelly · 5 months ago

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okay i seem to be gradually leaving the ~24hr period of temporal lobe hell i was just in, so i kind of want to write a little bit about what i'm calling "deja vu panic attacks" in case it's useful to anyone else who follows me. i don't know if there's a real term for this phenomenon somewhere - searching for the symptoms turned up a lot of overlap with a particular type of epilepsy & while i'm 99% sure i'm not having seizures (i had a student with this kind of epilepsy so i've seen them happen! it's pretty different), it was making me feel worse to keep reading all that, so. "deja vu panic" it is

my particular blend of depression/anxiety/PTSD (+ neurodivergence?) comes with very occasional dissociative episodes - mostly derealization & depersonalization, but i definitely think this deja vu panic thing falls into a dissociative category too. weirdly it's only happened to me twice, once back in 2019 & again just now. this is how it goes: i'm minding my own business going about my regular life (encountering no identifiable triggers) then suddenly i'll have the overwhelming sense that i either dreamed this exact moment or lived it in a past i've somehow returned to, which is combined with instant & total emotional certainty that i am doomed. sympathetic nervous system immediately flushes my body with so much adrenaline & cortisol that i feel cold/sick/dizzy/numb. once the acute "deja vu" moment has passed i'm left with a lingering sense of unreality & dread, like my perspective on my entire life has just shifted horribly & i don't know if i'll ever feel normal or be who i was before this ever again. the acute attacks just continue to happen over a period of hours - in 2019 i only had 2 attacks a few hours apart & started to feel normal after ~12 hours, but this time i had 5 acute attacks over a period of 12 hours & am only approaching normalcy after 24. i don't know what to make of that BUT here's what seemed to help:

physical comfort from & verbal interaction with loved ones. this includes cats. thank you cats for purring, thank you Jules for chatting with me, thank you Laurel & Jey for hugging/talking/letting me cry on you.

unusual/unexpected tactile sensations. a lot of the shit people are supposed to do for dissociation doesn't work for me because i'm a vivid dreamer who experiences nearly every sensation while i'm sleeping, so if i feel like i'm in a dreamlike state, naming 3-5 regular things i can see/touch/hear/taste is just not cutting it. however! something weird or intense is useful if trapped in the deja vu state. for example today Laurel dropped an ice cube down my fucking shirt because they rightly suspected it would jolt me (they asked first). it did!

radical acceptance of being in hell. okay hear me out. i noticed in between attacks that sometimes i would start to feel the deja vu coming on & if i turned towards it in my awareness (like "oh what's that? do i remember this?") i would move right into panic, while if i avoided it ("nope! distraction time") i could stave it off for a while but eventually it would catch up with me and i'd panic again. surprisingly, one side effect of being worn down by 12+ hours of this cycle was that i started to feel it coming & instead responded with "yup. that feeling. that's how we feel now. it's horrible" which amazingly led to NOT PANICKING. not panicking over a period of hours eventually led to not feeling so fucking dissociated, which appears to be leading to normalcy??

like, even as i'm writing this & rereading parts of it, i still feel pretty strongly that all this has happened before - everything feels familiar, but it's NOT feeling like i'm going to die or like my life is about to be horribly changed. i'm taking that as progress & hoping that tomorrow i don't even feel the deja vu anymore

as for "why did this happen" - i have no fucking idea. did i just get back from a very stressful trip? yes. am i anxious about the state of the world? always. but it's like my brain just spins a wheel where the options are various kinds of stress response & this one is an extremely tiny but outrageously horrible sliver of that wheel. love that for me!!!

#rambling thoughts #ailments #mental health

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 1 year ago

Text

Code Blue Ch. 47- Punch Drunk Love

Summary: It's one step forward and two steps back for Lee and Jo. The same can be said for Jo and Craig, only their encounter "lands" on a more comical note. Jo wants to play detective. Dave receives a message from beyond the grave.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, mentions of murder, drinking, intoxication, ghost child

Chapter characters: Lee, Josie, Craig, David, Jacob

Chapter word count: 6,699

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Salem, Massachusetts

March 21, 2023

An hour had passed since Lee had left you in the boathouse after his regretful blowup. As he sat in his lake house bedroom, staring blankly out the window at the gray sky morning, he could hear the muffled voices of you, Britt and Jason downstairs and then all went quiet, except for the creaking of his door opening.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head in sadness when he felt you softly sit down on the opposite side of the bed. As your movement ceased and you began to speak, a subtle breeze laced with the biting scent of your intoxicating vampire perfume flowed straight to Lee's nose, causing his heart to palpitate as he eagerly inhaled it.

"Jason and Britt are gone, just as you wanted. I think I should go too as soon as the laundry finishes."

Lee turned his head to the side and could see that you were sitting with your back to him.

"I'm sorry about your brother."

"What for? You were right Lee. He and Britt shouldn't be here. It was my stupid idea to bring him here to help Britt."

"It was both of our ideas Jo and it was for the best. Now he can take care of the woman he loves and leave us out of it. I don't want any part of this shit anymore Jo."

"I can agree with you there. Neither do I."

Your weary tone spoke a frightening volume to Lee.

"Does that include me...Jo?"

Your soft voice became hesitant and shaky as you still wouldn't turn to face him.

"I...I don't know what to do anymore Lee. All these secrets are like an incurable cancer and every time I believe it's in remission because you tell me it is, the secrets metastasize and honestly, I don't know if that is even the worst part anymore because we both just accused each other of killing Elizabeth."

"Yep." Lee softly and sorrowfully agreed as he nodded, then turned to face your backside.

"The only difference is, I stood by you and tried to protect you over it by disposing of the blatant evidence I found in my car, but you...you allowed Luke to put doubts in your mind with his circumstantial bullshit and you turned on me. You're the only one who's ever truly known the real me and yet you actually believed I was capable of doing something so repulsive, that I am some monster."

You finally turned to face him with an anxious tone.

"Lee...I am sorry. I know in my heart you didn't hurt Liz and yes, I stupidly let Luke twist my thoughts. God, it's just that lately, your behavior has been so erratic and even violent and you won't tell me why!"

"What..so I'm not allowed to be human and have emotions that happen to include anger?? Everything that has been going on is why Jo and we all react differently to stress, you know that. The day you tried to justifiably attack Landy's sister, THAT was violent but I didn't believe that could make you a murderer. Look at the violent shit Luke has done. He deserved that vase to the head. And Carpenter deserved my fist in his face and Gordon deserved his ass handed to him."

"I get all of that. I do. Can't you put yourself in my shoes just for a minute about Liz though? You cut her seatbelt to mess with her and kept that from me and when you had finally learned the truth that she was responsible for Jacob's death, you and my brother plotted right in front of me about taking her out and framing Ethan and you refused to help her when she was brought to the ER. And now I find out you were off living some double life with Luke that involved blowing up terrorists and god knows what else. What was I supposed to believe?"

"Me Jo. You were supposed to believe me. You just said you believe in your heart that I didn't do it, so which is it Jo? Are you with me or are you against me because it's feeling a lot like you're still against me and if that's the case, then why are you even here?? Jesus Jo...what I did for you, you haven't even said a word about that. Ethan's clearly been watching us. He snuck in here before he killed Liz and took my car, my knife and your clothes, then after he took care of her, he planted everything, all in hopes of framing you because we both know he wants you away from me and yes Jo, at first I believed you had done it, but ONLY due to having some blackout break in reality from your pills and all that wine."

"Something still don't seem right Lee. Why didn't he just kill me then? Wouldn't that have been the easiest and fastest way to get me out of your life and.."

"Jo, stop, god, don't say this shit. Just the thought of him being in this house and anywhere near you......"

Lee paused and rubbed his palms over his face, releasing a stressed sigh, then continued.

"Besides the most important reason, that being that he knew I would come and kill him without hesitation...he still needed to cover his ass in her death because he knew he would be a number one suspect. We weren't supposed to find it Jo. I'm willing to bet Ethan was going to drop an anonymous tip to the police about the evidence and I honestly thought that was why Luke was here, so now, I'm also feeling something isn't right because no one has showed up. Regardless Jo, I risked everything for you, my career, my freedom, because that would all be gone if it were found out I destroyed all the evidence and I DID it to make it all go away for you and like some stupid school boy, I actually thought you'd be impressed."

"What I am is scared Lee. I understand why you did what you did and I DO appreciate it, I promise you, but you have still got to get rid of that knife. He killed her with it and it can be matched up to her wounds."

"I'll take care of it. It will never be found."

"And then what Lee? We just go on with our lives as if nothing ever happened? I mean, first of all, Luke is never going to give up. It's his job now and...."

Lee sarcastically snickered. "It's just his way to feel like he's a good person."

"God Lee, I just don't get it. When he came back for Landy, you and he seemed like really great friends, but with what I just overheard between you and my brother, how is that if Luke supposably set you up as you put it?"

Lee shook his head in frustration. "There's no supposably about it Jo. He did what he did and we were both just trying to move on from it, from that life. I just wanted to forget it and then he just shows back up here as if nothing ever happened and his presence brings back all those bad memories and all those feelings of having to be on guard every second. None of that life was ever supposed to involve you. I didn't hide it from you to be sneaky or deceitful. I'm not that person anymore and I don't want to be, but he brings it out of me and not only that, but I'm not oblivious to his desire of you either. I just want him to go back to where he came from and stay there, in the past. You and I were finally getting it right and he swoops in and fucks our forever all up and now here we are, yet once again. And I know Jo, I know that everything happening is not all because of him. I know it's me too and god, I am trying so hard to be the man you want me to be and that you deserve after all you have been through in the past, but all I have done is drag you through hell and let you down over and over again. You're this angel of light and I'm nothing but a devil of darkness."

Lee's voice had become choked up and if there was one thing that tugged at your heart strings, it was seeing him cry.

"Please don't speak about yourself that way." you compassionately said as you scooted over to him and rubbed his back.

"You're not evil baby. You just feel cornered and like no one is on your side and I cannot apologize enough for ever thinking you could have hurt Liz. All that murder plot talk with Jason was nothing but anger. Your fears had just been validated that she was responsible for Jacob's death and as far as not wanting to help her at the hospital is quite understandable. I overreacted about all that Lee. I know in my heart what a compassionate and kind person you are. It's one of the many reasons I fell for you, so fast and so damn hard. And as far as myself, I am certainly no angel. I have a dark side. You've seen it, especially around Megan. She brings something out of me just like Luke does to you. I don't want to be that person either so I get it. Now you though, you had every reason to believe I could have done it and what you did to protect me, the sacrifices you were willing to make, means everything to me. That is FAR from letting me down. I'm so sorry for how I reacted. So you know, I...I would have done the same for you...without hesitation."

You slid your hand down his bare arm and laced your fingers into his. Lee softly sighed and tried to smile as he then placed his other hand over the union.

"I look at you Jo and I...I just love you and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you. I did not wait for you. I didn't even know you were coming. When you walked into my life, I didn't know it was you because I didn't know there WAS a you. You were never a list, a goal, an expectation, a dream, ok maybe you were a dream. You were a surprise, a gift, an adventure, a new beginning to a story I thought I would never have and I am scared to death of losing you and that you won't love me anymore if you know all of the things I've done. I'm scared of a world without you."

"You know I feel the same way about you Lee. It's patience and trust that I am running out of, not love. But...is love enough? Even for us? You keep lying to me and do understand why, but it doesn't make it right. Like you said, your past didn't have anything to do with me and I agree, but when it affects me, it does. It's affecting us Lee. I've looked past your secrets and forgiven you twice now and yet, here we are again. Lord knows I'm not strong enough to stay away from you. I've tried... but I'll have to find the strength Lee, because I won't do this anymore. I don't want to leave you, especially now with all of this and also with tomorrow being the one month anniversary of your father's passing and your birthday being four days away, but it's the third time now of being side swiped by your secrets and it's certainly no fucking charm. We have to trust each other. You have to trust ME and tell me what happened between you and Luke since it involves Peter...and it involves who you were and I want...I deserve to know all of you. Remember that time we danced in your other house and you looked right into my eyes and sang that song, All of Me, to me? You said you give me all of you. I thought you meant it. It's all or nothing Lee. Release this weight and let me help you carry it."

Lee kissed your hand and softly sighed as he gently rested his forehead on yours and gave you a tender eskimo kiss, then brought his sapphire eyes to yours.

"Of course I meant it. Let me show you. Let me make love to you. I need you Jo."

His warm, sweet breath over your mouth was driving you mad with desire and all you wanted to do was press your lips to his and tear his clothes off. Being this close to him was dangerous. You would always become puddy for him to shape and mold you just the way he wanted. You were a puppet on his strings. You were simply spellbound. Lee had healed all the hardships you endured before him, bringing you a peace you had never known and just a simple kiss to his bewitching lips, that alone had the power to render every part of you helpless, sucking your mind, body and soul right into his....but you couldn't give in to him. Not this time. As his lips lowered to yours, you regained control by softly but very reluctantly pushing him back before it was too late.

"Lee, please. No. Sex is not going to make this better or make this go away. Stop deflecting and tell me what happened."

Lee released an obvious sigh of frustration as he closed his eyes and lightly pursed his lips.

"I want to tell you baby. I do. I...I've just never spoken about it to anyone. As I said, I was just trying to bury it and move on. I certainly did not expect this to ever come up, especially now. Feeling cornered is an understatement. There's so much happening. SO much to deal with already. Can't we just do this another time Jo? I will tell you, I prom..."

You pulled your hand from his and stood right up in a huff.

"Don't you promise me anything! I don't believe your promises anymore Lee, because you break them, every single time. You swore to me you had told me everything, but then more dirty laundry always appears and to me, that is a lie...and now, you're making excuses and trying to fuck me to get out of telling me the truth. Putting it off is just making this worse. There's never a right time Lee. You just need to do it. You need to trust me. I'm not going to leave because of your past, but I WILL leave if you can't be honest. I am sorry you feel backed against a wall but it's now or never Lee. I love you more than anything in this world but I am so over this!!"

Lee stood up too and in his anger, he said something he shouldn't have.

"So, it's your way or the highway. Is that it?? Then just go if you want Jo. You would clearly be better off anyways. I said I would tell you and I meant it, but in my own time. I don't like being forced. I'm not ready. Take it or leave it."

"Wow. Well...ok then. Guess I'll leave it. Maybe I WILL be better off because CLEARLY you refuse to change or even try to. You know what? I'm done. I need to go see my mother, see if I still have an apartment and try to find Dave. I'll get my things later."

Lee watched in shock as you whirled out of the room and then he raced down the stairs behind you, pleading for you not to go, for he never thought you would choose that option.

"Jo wait!"

"Wait for what Lee?" you snapped as you tugged your leggings up and slipped your boots on. "You just told me to go."

"I didn't mean it like that. I said take it or leave it. I gave you a choice."

"And I chose! Just like you did."

You grabbed your purse, took out your keys and headed for the door, but not without Lee stepping in front of you.

"Yeah...and quite easily too. So that's just it?? Fuck forever? Jo don't do this. Please. Everything that you want to know, it's not just some quick and simple story to tell. It's dark, it's traumatizing and it's terrifying.

"THIS is dark, traumatizing and terrifying. I'm tired Lee. I'm so fucking tired. Even if you tell me now or tell me later, it will just be half of it, just like it always is, although you will swear to me that you told me everything and then I'll find out the rest later, not by you but by accident and I'm just over it. I don't want to do this anymore. I want a normal relationship and this is far from normal and it's a perfect example of why people put walls up. To protect ourselves and I stupidly let mine down for you. Not anymore. I'm rebuilding it. Now get out of my way Lee."

"Jo. Don't go. Please. Don't leave me. Let me fix this."

"You can't. I don't believe a word you say anymore. I don't believe I would even know what I know if it weren't for overhearing you because I don't believe you were ever going to tell me."

"Ok, that is not true. You don't even understand. I was going to tell you. I had to... or I would have never been able to ask...."

Lee paused with a hard sigh and desperate eyes that quickly wandered from yours.

"Ask? Ask what Lee??"

His hands went to his hips, his head lowered and his eyes closed.

"I...I can't...not yet. Not like this."

"Oh my god....I can't even right now. Goodbye Sam."

As you stormed past him and slammed the door shut behind you, Lee stood dazed and motionless, softly answering your question.

"Ask you to marry me."

You jogged down to the garage where your Monte Carlo was being concealed from the bar thugs and off you went, without a care if they found you. If they did, you would just tell them your car had been stolen and you just got it back. If they didn't believe you and tried something, then you'd give them an attitude adjustment on top of their heads with your Kubotan, Hank Williams Jr. style, just like you did to Luke which dropped the hunky herculean like a sack of potatoes.

For the entire twenty minute drive to your mom's in silence, your arms were locked straight on the wheel as you focused on your breathing so you wouldn't have a panic attack. Everything had escalated so quickly in only a few hours. One minute, you and Lee were dancing in the kitchen and sharing breakfast together, basking in the afterglow following a beautiful night of making love and the next, you couldn't get away from him fast enough. Did you overreact? Should you have stayed and let him speak? You tried this once before, leaving him, which that lasted a whole hot minute and it changed absolutely nothing, so how could you, would you, do it this time when all you wanted to do was turn around and run back into his arms?

The visit with your mom was nerve-racking in itself between trying to hide your emotions over Lee and her trying to hide hers over the horrific ordeal of finding a butchered and still breathing Elizabeth the evening prior and then there was your sister. Your mom informed you that Megan hadn't come home last night and wasn't answering her phone. Of course you couldn't have cared less and wished she'd never come back, but you still tried to make your mom feel better and reminded her that this was not out of the ordinary for Megan to do. It made you think of what Luke told you, that she had actually came to the police station of her own free will and told him that she believed Ethan took Blaise because he thinks he is her father. You had to wonder what would make her turn on him like that. Did she finally see what a dangerous piece of shit he was? Speaking of Blaise, it was now time to go see Craig and you dreaded that almost as much as you dreaded large bodies of water.

As you drove to your apartment, all you could think about was that poor little girl and prayed she was alright wherever she was. For her sake, for Craig's and even for yours, because you knew what Craig's reaction would be when he found out, if he didn't already know, that you knew Liz dropped Blaise off with Angel and you didn't tell him. You also knew he would believe you did it intentionally, which was in no way true whatsoever, to get back at him for not telling you Jason was alive. The guilt was unbearable. How could you have been so self absorbed?

You parked the car and tried calling Dave again before you went into the lion's den and once again, no answer, so you left another voicemail.

"Dave, seriously. Are you THAT mad at me?? If you are, then fine, I can deal with that but at least just text me and tell me you are alright, or text Britt if you don't want to talk to me ok? I'm so worried about you. There's things you need to know about Liz if you don't already and...I really need my friend right now. Ok...bye..."

As you got out of the car, you could hear the muffled sound of music coming from the complex and the only one who blared it like that was Craig when he was working in his art studio. Granted, it was a small complex with only four other tenants but If you could hear it, then so could they and you had to wonder how they could deal with it, BUT, at least his taste in music was right up your alley and when you entered the building, the artist's distinct voice could not be mistaken. You always loved a good David Bowie tune....and this one seemed rather fitting for what you walked in on. How relevant it was for you as well.

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Upon nearing his wide open studio door, the strong odor of paint and sweet cigars stung your nose. You weren't sure what was worse as you walked in. The smell or the vision of him lying on a wheeled platform, desperately engrossed in smearing yellow paint over a giant canvas with his bare hands, silver rings on and all.

The closer you got as you walked up behind him undetected, it was clear that he was not only drunk as you glanced down at his glass of blood red wine and two empty wine bottles on the floor, but he was in a very deep state of despair. He appeared as if he had just rolled out of bed, although he didn't look as if he had even slept at all as your astonished eyes rolled over him from head to toe. His dark hair was wildly awry as was his normally groomed facial hair and his feet were as bare as his revealing bare bottomed butt crack which you highly doubted he gave two fucks about considering anyone could walk in just as you did.

You now had the problem of getting his attention without startling him, for you knew why he was in the condition he was in because the last time you had just walked in unannounced, you were accidentally almost struck with a can of blue paint due to his fit of rage, and right now, he looked like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. With all that taken into consideration, you decided to just pull the plug on the music and hope he didn't pull a gun on you this time as you tensed up from the thought.

Craig quickly sat up at the sound of silence, gave you a curious glance over and then the only thing he reached for was his paint covered glass that he picked up by the rim and drank from after asking you "what's up?"

"Hey." you softly answered. "Sorry to just barge in but...I...I have been trying to reach you. Are...are you alright?"

"Well now. Is that somewhat of a rhetorical question? Do I look alright? Unless you're here to tell me that you know where my daughter is, then that would be a big fat no. Fancy seeing you here just Josie. I thought you hated my guts?"

Judging by his well noted inebriated sarcasm, you could tell it was going to be a walk on egg shells type of conversation and you still weren't exactly sure if he knew that you knew Blaise had been right within his grasp before she vanished into thin air. You figured he would have instantly called you out if he knew, but Craig didn't seem to be the type that got straight to the point about things. You had the distinct feeling he was the type that liked to toy with people like a cat does with it's prey. An intimidation tactic per se and it was surely working, so you decided to just come clean and face his claws.

"No. I..I don't know where she is and I...I don't hate you. Not even a little bit but you may not like me so much. Craig I...about Blaise...I need to tell you something that I should have much sooner. I just...I didn't know...how to."

There was a brief silence as he peered up at you and you could see the curiosity growing in his dilated blues.

"Not even a little bit huh? Hmmph. Must be pretty bad, whatever you did, if you're worried about me not liking you after what I did to you. Alright then love, I'll bite. Is my curiosity going to kill the cat? You seem pretty skittish right now."

The fact that he basically just read your mind regarding the cat references made you gulp and then it just got worse when you couldn't find the words.

"Cat....got your tongue just Josie?"

"Ok, please just stop with the cat thing already."

"Mrrrow!! Feisty one are we?" he shot off as he grinned and raised his hand, making a swiping gesture with his fingers.

"Craig! Stop it and listen before I lose my nerve."

"Jeesh. I think you need this wine as bad as I do. Have a drink. It'll calm your nerves. There's another bottle in the fridge. Would you be a doll and fetch it for us?"

"It's....10 a.m. Craig."

"Yeah and your point is? There's no time restrictions for drinking in your own home and even if there were, I don't follow the rules. I make them. It's 5 o'clock all the time in my world."

"Fine. Whatever."

You went and got the wine and a clean glass for yourself and him too because you couldn't stand watching him put his lips on wet paint.

"Here. Wipe your hands off." you commanded as you handed him a towel and opened the wine.

"Yes mommy." he chuckled and did as you told him. "Now. Have a seat and let's hear it."

"I..I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself then. Cheers."

Craig raised his glass and knocked it all back in three gulps, then gazed up at you with a happy grin as you took a nervous sip.

"What the hell was that? Only a mouse could get drunk on that. Come on now, down the hatch."

You felt like a mouse alright, caught in a mouse trap as your anxiety began to slowly choke you. Enough was enough. You downed the wine and blurted out what you did.

"Craig..I..I knew Blaise was at Angel's before she was taken and I should have told you but I didn't because I was dealing with Jason and some other things."

His reaction was just as you had expected it would be. Shock, which was written all over his exhausted face.

"Is that so?"

"Y..yes." you softly squeaked and then began rambling. "And I..I am SO SO sorry. I was at Lee's and I saw Liz drop her off and I..I did try to call you. I texted too but you didn't answer or reply and then some other things happened and I...I had to go meet Jason and then I..."

"And then you just forgot about my daughter?? Does that sound about right? Because she didn't go missing until 48 fucking hours later. Did you forget where I live too?? but suddenly, you remembered today??"

In his aggravation, Craig purposely picked up the paint covered glass and filled it to the rim with more wine, then took a hefty gulp.

"Craig, so much happened. Obviously, Liz was attacked and then later she died and.."

He cut you off again as his agitation increased.

"And yet I still did not hear from you until now and now that I have, all I hear are bullshit excuses."

"I mean, that's two fucking days Jo. You were certainly able to go meet Jason but not come here. Last time I checked, your brother is a big boy who can handle his own problems, which is exactly what he's selfishly doing after all I did for him, but a 4 year old child is helpless Jo! I'm sure you slept too right? All snuggy in your bed, playing doctor with the doctor, all the while that piece of shit Ethan was plotting to kidnap Blaise. I even tried to protect you from him, right after you slapped me stupid and told me you never wanted to see my face again. Eh, that don't even matter. What matters is Blaise and it could have been prevented if I HAD KNOWN that she was merely 50 fucking feet away from you and so here I am now, daughterless and drunk. You know what I've been doing in my spare time since I have exhausted all my resources in locating her? It's like she has fallen off the face of the earth."

Craig put on some old cheap flip flops and stood up, then pointed down at his painting.

"You see that? I did what you said to try. I used Blaise as some inspiration to try and cure this painter's block I've been dealing with for so long. Did you know she likes bees? So I attempted to paint her a giant fucking bumble bee for when I get her back, or should I say IF I get her back, no thanks to you and certainly none to that dunderheaded detective who shares Ethan's rancid blood. Audacious British fuck writing me into his little black book as a person of interest in Lizzie's death. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a monster, even if I was raised by one."

"Craig, speaking of Cyrus, he happens to be one of the other problems we have been dealing with. Things that have nothing to even do with this. So much more has happened too and I don't expect you to understand that but I swear to you, I never meant for anything to happen to Blaise. Please...please believe me."

"I'll tell you what I believe. I believe you did this intentionally. What a great way to stick it to me for not telling you your brother was alive huh? Checkmate. You got me good Jo. Gold stars for you. Hit me right where it hurts the most. You're right. I don't like you so much anymore Miss March. I'll have your last months deposit ready for you in a few days and then I expect you out by the end of the month. Now get out of my sight. Good day."

"Craig come on. I would never put your child's life in danger just to get back at you or for any reason!"

As the acrimonious kiwi walked away, completely ignoring you, there was spillage of the yellow paint in his already cluttered pathway and the combination of flimsy flips flops worn by someone sober or tipsy, slick concrete and liquids do not mix.

Down he went as one foot slipped right out from under him and there he laid, stunned and flat out on his back with wine all over his face.

"Craig oh my god!" you gasped as you quickly but carefully made your way to him. "Are you alright??!!"

"There's that question again so I'll answer with the same answer. Do I look alright???" he snapped and attempted to get up, only to slip again and land on his butt.

"Here. Let me help you."

You reached down to him but he smacked your hand away.

"I might be a teeny bit sauced right now, but I'm not an invalid and if I were, I certainly wouldn't want or need any help from the likes of you Jo March."

"Fine." you huffed and then smirked at him. "Good luck then since you're now sitting in a giant smeared puddle of paint. I suppose if you crawl like the petulant child you're being, ass crack and all, you could make it out of your precarious predicament unscathed."

He glared up at you as he thought for a moment about demeaning himself even more than he already had by doing as you said.

"Fine." he also huffed and jerked his sticky hand out to you.

You took his hand and began to pull. As he pushed himself up with his other hand, his foot slipped out again and this time, he pulled you right down on top of his chiseled chest.

"Well now. Now who's in a precarious predicament Einstein? Now we're both covered in paint and not to mention fucked, just not in the way I would like." he boasted with a cheesy smirk as you both were nose to nose and damn near mouth to mouth. So close that his facial hair tickled your upper lip and his hot sweet wine breath made you drunk in a way that it shouldn't have as you and he stared into each other's eyes.

You quickly broke the trance he had you in and pushed your way up off of him.

"Come on Craig. Get up so I can leave. Now is clearly not the time to talk to you."

You reached down again, but made sure you were in a good stance to pull him up this time. Once he was securely on his feet, you handed him another towel to wipe the wine from his face and when he was finished, things became a bit awkward and silent for a moment as he fidgeted and fought having eye contact with you.

"I uh...I think I broke your glasses." you mumbled as you glanced at the black framed spectacles hanging from the frayed neckline of his knit shirt.

His head snapped down to look at them and then his defenses were right back up.

"Oh...well, no biggie. What's one more thing you've broken? I've got more, although... I don't have another daughter. I'm going to bed. See yourself out."

This time, Craig safely made his way back to his apartment entrance without a single glance back at you and then you quietly left. When you returned to your own apartment down the hall, you immediately took a long hot shower to decompress and cried your eyes out the entire time. Once you were finished, you sat down with a chilled bottled of wine you had in the fridge to try and calm your nerves. The conversation with Craig had went just as you imagined it in your head many times and he had every right to be angry with you. You should have went straight to him and met Jason later. Blaise would be safe and sound with Craig right now and you were the reason she was not, and for that, you were going to make it your mission to find her yourself and bring her home. You didn't have a cue as to how, but you were to try and make things right.

But of course, while trying to think about where to start, your mind betrayed you as all your thoughts went right back to Lee, but you knew they would once you were no longer distracted. How in the hell were you going to stay away from him this time if you couldn't even sit still without thinking of him??

The one glass of wine that early in the morning had caught up with you and made you somewhat sleepy and it wasn't long before you dozed off on the couch without even realizing it. Meanwhile, in a small town called Grandview, 15 miles from Salem, Dr. Dave had just returned home from a much needed getaway.

As he sat at his kitchen table, drinking a beer, reading your texts and listening to your voicemails, he contemplated calling you until he heard a noise in the living room. Dave lived alone and had no pets, so it was either his older but newly remodeled house still settling or....it was what is usually was. A ghost. And he had the gift to see and speak to them, although he would not call it a gift, but a curse and the only ones who knew were you and his sister Britt.

When he got to the living room doorway, there sat a little boy, about 5 years old with sandy blonde hair and big blue eyes, whom he had never seen before and he just looked at Dave until he spoke to him.

"Hey there. What's your name?"

"Jacob."

"Hello Jacob. I'm Dave."

"I know."

"Alright. Can you tell me why you're here?"

"She needs help."

"Who...needs help?"

"The girl at the train yard. I saw her. The bad man hurt her."

"The train yard??"

"Where mommy was hurt. Over there."

Jacob pointed out the window and Dave then realized he was referring to Train Town. It used to be a public attraction, about a mile away by a state park, but it was shut down many years ago and was now basically a train car graveyard.

"Who's your mommy Jacob?"

"Elizabeth. She died and rode the train."

Dave had to collect himself, for he now knew he was talking to Liz and your Lee's son.

"Ok. I heard about that. I am very sorry Jacob, but...who is the girl you said is hurt? Is she there now?"

"My new and favorite mommy's sister."

"You mean Josie? Her...sister?"

"Mmmhmm."

Dave sprung to his feet and called you, but got no answer so he called your mother Margaret and she confirmed that Megan had not been home since yesterday and that she could not reach her.

"Jacob, can you show me where she is at? It is a really big place."

"Yep. Last one there's a rotten egg!"

Jacob hopped out of his chair and ran out the front door and vanished like the typical fugacious ghost as Dave stood in a transient spell of shock. As his mind resumed focus, he then grabbed his medical bag, raced to his truck and sped off without a thought of the danger that could be waiting for him.

@redeemer46

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#lee pace #lee pace fanfiction #code blue #craig parker #david conrad #love stories #dark stories #dark fiction #drama #angst #murder mystery #ghosts #supernatural encounters

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worldisahouseonfire · 5 months ago

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I think something has happened to me, from a lifetime of trying to communicate with people who seemed committed to misunderstand me. I say one thing, and the way they respond, it's like they were listening to another audio track, or radio frequency. I think something happens when nothing a person says gets understood, believed, acknowledged, for years on end.

It becomes impossible for me to understand what even the point is of language. The more I try to correct, the less I make sense, even to myself anymore. And I worry that all the reasons people gave for not understanding me only served to make me more anxious and difficult to understand, even for people who wanted to make an effort.

I read things that Mel Baggs and other disabled writers wrote, and they're things that make sense with what I'm going through now. On the one hand it's validating to know I'm not the only one experiencing these things. On the other hand, many of those disabled writers are now dead, and the people who should be reading their words never have and possibly never will. If I send posts to people and they refuse to read them, and refuse to listen to me and what I can now quote from memory, then what would be the point of me writing or speaking at all?

I think a lot of people lose their voices and words this way.

I think a lot of people die this way.

Not because they're not articulate, not because they lack insight into what's happening around them, but because the people crammed in thickly around them are determined to misunderstand them, until the frustration boils over, meltdowns and 'behaviors' are had, and this is used as justification for chemical restraint, institutionalization, coercive control, and brilliant minds are vanished to silence their voices.

I don't want this to happen to me.

I think this is something that's been happening throughout the history of language and oppression to a lot of people, and it's a dangerous razor's edge to walk sometimes. Every word. Every facial expression. Every tone. Every movement. Every variation in volume. Where it's not merely about the perception of people in the immediate vicinity, but what they can write into charts and notes. What they can report to doctors, paramedics, agencies, therapists, and the sort of kangaroo courts that preside over involuntary commitment, guardianship, conservatorship.

Where anything you do or say or write, and even how you do it, can and will be used against you in the court of public opinion, so easily manipulated by those who can benefit from shutting someone up and away.

No staff have to be smart to do this. All they have to do is be more credible than those in their care. And this credibility is a function of their position. It's built into disability support services and welfare agencies, places and systems where we wind up when there is nowhere else to turn.

I live in an adult residential facility. When I was placed here, it was supposed to be temporary, to get me out of a dangerous shelter, to keep me off the streets and out of some inpatient situation. Much was not disclosed to me until after I was shuffled in. I am still legally my own person, and I'm alone.

The facility is getting paid over $10k a month for my board and care.

This facility has the highest restriction possible for a facility of this type, in order to be able to charge the maximum legal amount.

I have been here over a year. In that time I have not been able to access actual medical care.

Even in this expensive area, that much money a month could have paid rent, paid for a car and a printer/scanner, and paid for a graduate student from a nearby prestigious university to come over for a couple of hours twice a week to help me unfuck my life and actually access care.

When a business provides care for profit, they keep whatever they don't spend on those in their care. They keep whatever they don't spend on the staff salaries or training. They can hire people who don't even speak English, can barely read or write, and staff will be motivated to do whatever they're told by those who sign their checks. They see just how easily they could wind up in much worse jobs, working for people who haven't been groomed into terrified passivity, under the watchful metal eyes of Ring cameras in almost every room, whose footage is only accessible to the people signing the checks.

It doesn't matter what I say, what I understand, what I write. It doesn't matter what I experience.

All that matters is I have disabilities and I am poor. That is what is heard, instead of me. Like a loud, insistent, ringing alarm that drowns out my attempts to communicate. Like something that, once you know it, you can't ever un-know it, that undermines any willingness to understand, to feel respect for what I'm going through. Pity feels degrading, demeaning to put up with. It places me beneath the person feeling it, expressing it, exuding it.

It doesn't matter that I feel like a veteran of some of the worst shit imaginable, like I was born into a war on my very self, and I have largely had to fight and survive it alone.

Mel Baggs wrote about something -- I think sie called it the 'rule of two.' Where when there is just one other person accompanying you into a situation with a care provider, a doctor, someone in a position of power, then we get listened to more, treated a little more fairly. And the person doing the accompaniment may be mystified, if the expected discrimination and interpersonal badness doesn't actually happen. They may think we were exaggerating for dramatic effect.

But people thought that about femmes' overwhelming experiences of sexual harassment and assault, and Black people's overwhelming experiences of cop violence and harassment violence. It's not an accident that it mostly only happens when someone with too much power is alone with someone who is not considered a credible reporter of their own reality.

As a trans human I experience this also. As I child I experienced this with my abusers. And many, many, many disabled and chronically ill people experience this with care providers and caregivers, compounded the more marginalized and disbelieved we are in other ways.

I think there's a strong, strong tendency to want to differentiate and distance from people sharing stories of interpersonal harm. I don't think it's necessarily conscious, which is part of what makes it so difficult to interrupt. I think there's an instinctive, socialized, acculturated response that happens, in the knee-jerk responses people have to being told that a human is hurting another human. Interrogating details, heaping pity and unsolicited advice, a listener trying to feel safe again in their own experiences, in their own skin, in their own humanity. Trying to find reasons the victim of misfortunate brought it on themself, choices and mistakes the listener will of course never make. Never to live like that, or lose their job, or wear that, at that time of night in that neighborhood, with a person who in hindsight is easily evaluated as dangerous and harmful.

I don't know what to do or say about this. I think the more we ignore the reality that people don't have to mean harm to do harm, the more harm can proliferate. Like ignoring that termites can eat wood will wind up ensuring the house gets chewed to pieces around you -- like ignoring that black mold can grow in damp poorly-cleaned places inevitably ensures an equally unhealthy home -- ignoring the ways we all fuck up and fail to course-correct ensures that it's going to keep going, and going to get a whole lot worse, and eventually it won't be people making choices you're careful not to make yourself.

Eventually we will all harm others, and be harmed by others.

Denial is something that goes around and comes around. It seems like a harmless habit at first. But eventually you wind up dependent on so much denial, and so many people cooperating in that denial, that when some really bad shit goes down, you're alone.

And you're stuck in a place you can't leave.

And there's nowhere else to go.

And things are happening that are so bad that they are unbelievable, because everyone seems so Nice™ and everything looks so Pleasant™ whenever anyone with any power is watching. And the people who are saying that this shit ain't kosher struggle to string words together in a way that makes sense, and seem constantly afraid that if they speak up, things will get worse for them.

They seem, on the surface, quite Mad and unreliable. Paranoid, even. In spite of the fact that there are literal cameras watching them, and people 24/7 monitoring them and writing little notes in files that are kept under lock and key, that the subjects themselves can't see and can't contribute to.

And one of those subjects is you.

And people who don't have to live like you do tell you to be patient. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.

They ask, over and over, if anything bad has happened. But they don't seem to understand or even believe the things you do say, or if they do, then what they do about it makes things even worse for you.

If you're lucky -- very lucky -- you have held onto a laptop computer, and have managed to stay off the worst of the mind-scrambling drugs by staying quiet and keeping to a minimum interactions with the people in a position to panic and administer those drugs. If you're very lucky, you have a lifelong habit of responding to confusion and anxiety by reading and reaching out online to find other people writing about situations like yours.

Unfortunately a lot of the people in situations like yours are just as disbelieved and anxious and afraid and wound so tight you and they set each other off all the time. It will be like interacting with other burn victims while still trapped in the burning house. You will argue over whose burns are worse and how far away you have to stay from each other, and who should get priority for any ointments and bandages hurled in through the flames. (Metaphorically speaking.)

You will realize just how many of you there are. And you will find writing by people who are now just charred skeletons, who never made it out. You will wonder how many others didn't have the great good fortune to have words to put to paper, who died voiceless, stories untold.

You will try to help each other, but there will never be enough soothing or healing or supplies or support to go around. You will wind up hurting others. You may wind up feeling just as awful as the people who are calling platitudes on the outside, telling you to just be patient, asking who set the fire, and not believing you when you tell them that the arsonists, wearing flameproof suits, are still wandering through the house setting and feeding fires.

They will tell you that those people are firefighters.

The arsonists will tell you they are fighting fire with fire.

This will seem like absolute bullshit. No one who's not an arsonist is coming into the inferno anymore, so there's no one to tell except each other. But it feels horrible to keep harping on it, so doing almost anything else, anything distracting, is essential so as not to just lie down and feed your pain-wracked exhausted flesh to the flames.

You will get really, really pissed about the trollish people who ring the house and mock you and others like you for 'letting' this happen to you. You will yell back sometimes, and they will become absolutely unhinged and go round up their trollish friends to investigate your entire life and say horrible things about your personal private business, both to you and everyone in earshot.

You will, understandably, be feeling a bit misanthropic and apathetic.

You will probably hate people who tell you that the only fire is a bad attitude, and that if you wanted to get up and leave, you could.

You will probably hate people who think you need a therapist to fix your way of thinking about and responding to being in hell.

On the bright side, you will probably come around to appreciate the really dark humor of the people you're burning with. Laughs will be your only morphine, sometimes, and they may sound maniacal, because you all need them so bad.

You will probably wonder if this is actually what Madness is -- pain whose context is not understood and experienced by others.

And if you are lucky, and have the capacity for it, you may read and listen to things Mad people have written and said through history.

You might come to think that the real madness lies not in your perception of what's actually happening, but the yahoos outside calling syrupy-sweet reassurances and platitudes in to all of you, chasing the denial dragon like absolute fiends.

You may wonder if there was ever a time when your world was not a house on fire, or if it was just a dream you once had.

You might write. You might sing. You might cry. You might rock. You might roll. You might sleep. You might even come to enjoy your nightmares, because at least they go away when you wake up into the nightmare that never ends, and they're a change of fuckery.

You may develop more of a taste for swearing, especially really creative swears. They will be honest.

You may start writing and be unable to stop.

You may despair, knowing that no one has the patience and attention span and desire to read that much anymore. Especially if there aren't any cat pictures to go along with it.

You may post it anyway. And include a cat picture at the end as a reward or apology for anyone who read all the way through. Gods only know what someone who read all the way through this is going through (as long as they're not out trollin' & hatin').

And even though you don't know them, and may never compare burn scars with them, or trade cool rocks with them, you'll feel love for them, as I love you, right now. And you'll hope, as I do, that your love -- so painfully necessary to feel right now -- is received with understanding, and can be passed on, as it was to me, as I pass it on to you.

You matter. Your voice matters. Your words matter. What you have to communicate without words matters. It really fucking sucks that you're stuck where you are, wherever you are. I hope one day you get out, and laugh in the rain, and cry in the sun, and do all the things you love and want to do. You are human, and you matter.

Here it is, your moment of cat:

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