#I missed my therapy session yesterday so I’m projecting again I think

[crowley-stardust]

no bc this is literally the same joy as the first scene he has just matured- he’s just been affected by everything he’s gone through since. Falling, losing his sense of self, experiencing the horrors of hell and the horrors and sorrows of humanity, nearly losing the world & the material things he loves- at one point actually losing his only companion- but he’s still the same person he still loves so deeply, he still has so much joy- aziraphale just doesn’t SEE because it so often happens when Crowley is actively admiring Aziraphale’s actions or when he is doing something for him when he isn’t there to make him happy.

good grief I need a lie down and a gin and to be held

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Chapter 4

⚠WARNING: Swearing, mention of previous characters' deaths

• ────── ✾ ────── •

“I just don’t get why no one wants to help me plan the shrine visit and picnic lunch.” Oikawa pushes his now-empty plate away and turns his head. You share a look with Makki and Mattsun.

“We just don’t want to get in the way of your vision.” Mattsun replies. “You’re the most creative of us all and we don’t want to bog you down.”

Oikawa only glances towards Mattsun before glancing at you and Makki. You both put on your most sincere faces, hoping to placate your irritated friend. It seems to do the trick, as he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Well of course I’m the most creative. I guess I can plan everything and tell you all what to do.”

You smile at Oikawa, nodding. “That sounds good.” You enjoy the last bit of your dinner, keeping your eyes on your plate.

Since Hajime’s passing, there’s been a visible gap in your friend group. It’s not a gap that can easily be replaced or filled, but the balance of your group has been thrown way off course.

Makki and Mattsun try to lighten things up with jokes but most of the time they fall flat. And it’s not fair to always depend on them to keep the mood light when they can’t muster the energy to do it.

Most of the time you’ve remained silent on the outings. You’ll laugh at the jokes from Makki and ask everyone about their days, but nine times out of ten you’re hindered by the absence of Hajime to make meaningful conversation.

Surprisingly, the most consistent of your friends is Oikawa. But since there’s no Iwa-chan to reign him in, he has become the leader of your group - making plans, driving conversation and trying to keep your group from falling apart. The only problem is that Oikawa has utilized more...forceful tactics to get what he wants.

���For lunch tomorrow we’ll have to meet somewhere by the gym because I have training in the afternoon.” Oikawa states later, while everyone is leaving the restaurant. “And we have to get salads or something similar, I can’t eat anything heavy before.”

You send a quick glance to Mattsun, pleased to see Makki holding his boyfriend’s hand tightly. Of everyone Mattsun is the one who snaps back against Oikawa the most, unwilling to deal with his antics. Makki is the best at keeping him calm while you would try to keep Oikawa from escalating the issue.

“Oh, I can’t meet tomorrow, sorry. I’m getting lunch with my friend.”

Your friends all give you questioning looks - Makki and Mattsun look more excited (and ready to tease you if necessary.) But Oikawa narrows his eyes.

“Is this the same friend you ditched us for lunch yesterday and today?” His tone is accusatory and you inwardly sigh. So it’s going to be this kind of night.

“Yes.” You don’t want to beat around the bush but you don’t want to antagonize your friend with smart-ass answers. “He wanted to get lunch again so I agreed, I wouldn’t if we were planning on getting lunch.”

Oikawa scoffs. “You should always plan on getting lunch with us, Y/N.”

“Oikawa I think you’re skipping over an important detail.” Makki steps in, inadvertently stopping Oikawa from going off on you. But before you can relax he turns to you with a shit-eating grin. “You’re meeting with a guy?”

Shit.

Mattsun appears over Makki’s shoulder, giving a similar smirk. “Please elaborate, Y/N-chan. Who are you meeting with?”

“And when can we expect an introduction?”

You give Makki an annoyed look at his extra question. “His name is Osamu, and we worked on a project together for one of our classes. We worked well together so we decided to get lunch. It’s no big deal.” Your last sentence is directed to Makki and Mattsun, both waggling their eyebrows.

Despite their childish behavior you’d take it every day over Oikawa’s snide attitude.

“Osamu, huh?” Oikawa looks down at you with his head tilted to the side questionably. “How come this is the first we’ve heard about him?”

You shrug. “It’s no big deal, Oikawa. Don’t be a jerk.”

“Hey I’m just wondering why you never wanted to tell us about him.” He held his hands up innocently. “Are you keeping other secrets from us perhaps?”

You feel your eyes narrow and you can’t help but let a little venom into your words. “I’m not keeping secrets, Oikawa. Osamu and I worked on a project together, he found out about Hajime and I found out that he lost his twin brother, so maybe I’ve found another friend who I can relate to.”

Oikawa’s eyes widen marginally at the mention of Hajime and he doesn’t reply. His hands lower and he looks off to the side. You see Makki and Mattsun stiffen before Mattsun steps closer to his boyfriend.

It’s no wonder that people tell you not to joke about death or dying. It’s easy for people who haven’t understood how devastating the loss of a loved one is to make those simple jokes, because they’ve never experienced the instant the mood of a group plummets. It’s a powerful weapon, made to bring the strongest down a few notches. It’s one you wouldn’t ever use unless absolutely necessary, and even this time mentioning how you and Osamu were able to bond over your shared trauma was a slip made out of anger. But it was effective in shutting Oikawa up.

“Oh.” Makki says into the stifling silence. Oikawa still hasn’t looked away from the ground and now you feel guilty again for bringing the mood down. Twice in two days is not a record you wanted to make. Makki speaks up again. “That’s so sad, how did you find out about that?”

Here is where you hesitate, because you can’t say that you were texting Hajime’s old phone number and serendipitously the stranger receiving those messages not only is a student at the same university you attend but also lost someone close to him, and you agreed to meet with him for coffee after five minutes of your “meeting.”

“I think it just came up organically,” you reply, hoping you sound somewhat nonchalant with your fabricated explanation. “I don’t really remember the conversation exactly.”

“Huh.” Mattsun says. “Well if you guys are going to hang out more maybe see if he wants to come to our group therapy sessions. The next one’s in a few days.”

At this Oikawa whips his head up and glares at Mattsun. He doesn’t say anything in response to Mattsun’s suggestion but he looks livid. Mattsun in turn meets Oikawa glare with his signature, unaffected gaze.

“Okay, we’re gonna head out now.” Makki grabs his boyfriend’s arm and steers him towards their apartment. “Oikawa, we’ll text you about lunch tomorrow. Y/N, I want all the details from your ~date~”

“It’s not a date!” You call, but Makki doesn’t reply save for a little hand wiggle he sends over his shoulder. You sigh out loud and shake your head at your friends’ antics.

You turn to your silent companion, who has taken to glaring at the ground again. “Are you ready to leave?” He doesn’t answer you, not even nodding in agreement, but he stands straight and you both move together towards your apartment buildings.

Oikawa speaks up after a few blocks of walking in silence. “Did Osamu really lose his brother?”

“Excuse me?” You turn to your friend, appalled at such a question. “Are you really fucking asking if he was lying?”

“I’m just looking out for you.” Oikawa doesn’t meet your angry gaze but his voice has lost its disapproving tone. “Some idiots will lie to get sympathy or try to connect and get closer to you. It’s fucked up.”

Still feeling aggravated you turn forward and roll your shoulders. “I guess. But you didn’t see him. You’d have to be blind to take one look and think he’s okay.” His tired face pops into your head again, the look of a person just trying to scrap by one day at a time. It hurts to think about.

“Do you like him?”

You turn back to your friend, angry again, to see him giving you a calculated look. There’s something else there too, almost something like indignant hurt.

You know why he’s looking at you like that and it makes something in your stomach twist.

Oikawa is the only other person to know of your love for Hajime. He pried it from you years ago but had sworn on his own hair products that he wouldn’t tell a soul. In spite of Oikawa’s general obnoxiousness and seemingly fictitiousness, deep down he’s a very loyal friend. And even though he knew one of your deepest secrets, you knew it was safe with him.

But he badgered you for days on end to confess to Hajime and every time you told him no. He was annoyingly persistent, but not once did he say well what now? after Hajime passed.

You missed that annoying weirdo. You don’t like the possessive, mean and cruel Oikawa that’s taken his place.

“I don’t like him like that, Oikawa.” You say now, turning back ahead first this time. “He’s just a friend.”

You feel Oikawa’s gaze on you still but you don’t look back. He doesn’t say another word to you, save for a short remark when you leave to go into your apartment building.

“Have fun on your date tomorrow.”

He drops that line and walks away, leaving you to stare after your friend with your gut twisting.

Why does he have to do this?

Insecurity, jealousy, anger, depression - maybe a mix of all four and more. It’s partly why you’re giving him a pass for now.

Your phone pings when you get into your apartment, and you feel the tension from the day leave your body when you lock the door. You feel wrung out and you honestly just want to sink to the floor and just lay there.

Before you give into your urge to become one with the floor you pull your phone out to see who texted you.

If it’s Oikawa I’m going to flush my phone down the toilet.

But you’re pleasantly surprised to read the screen and not see it was Oikawa who messaged you. You unlock your phone to read the text, feel a smile tug at your lips and send a reply back.

Glancing down at the floor, it suddenly doesn’t look as appealing as it did before. You walk through the apartment, heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: And we get a bit more of a glimpse into Y/N's friend group, and the dynamic is.......not ideal. Hopefully the friends can work through their problems and help each other......anyway, thank you for reading!

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[longitudinalwaveme]

Arkham Files: Golden Glider

Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Lisa Snart, also known as the Golden Glider. The patient displays a number of antisocial tendencies, but no formal diagnosis has ever been given to her, and since she arrived at Arkham only a few days ago, I have not had the time to give her a complete psychological examination. Session One. Good morning, Miss Snart. 

Golden Glider: (Angry) Another psych evaluation? Really? No one ever gives these to Captain Cold or the Mirror Master! Why am I any crazier than them? Women can commit crimes for reasons other than being “hysterical females”, can’t they? 

Hugo Strange: Miss Snart, all of you “Rogues”  were given psychological and intellectual evaluations upon your arrival to Arkham Asylum. It is a standard operating procedure for all patients, male or female. I assure you, your gender has nothing to do with your being here. (Pause) And this is not a psychological evaluation, Miss Snart. It is a therapy session. 

Golden Glider: (Suddenly calm) Oh. (Pause) So tell me, Dr. Strange. What can I do for you? Or, I guess I should ask, what can you do for me? 

Hugo Strange: Miss Snart, your file indicates that you once had a career as a professional figure skater. There was even talk of you going to the Olympics. Why, then, did you choose to throw it all away to take up a life of costumed crime?

Golden Glider: Have you ever lost the love of your life, Dr. Strange? 

Hugo Strange: No. I haven’t. 

Golden Glider: (Intensely) Well, I have! Five years ago, the Flash-Barry Allen-murdered my beloved Roscoe; took away the best part of my life! With Roscoe gone, I had nothing left to live for, so I set my sights on revenge; on making the Flash suffer the way that I had suffered! I would get even with him: An eye for an eye! A death for a death! A lover for a lover! As I had lost Roscoe, so I would make him lose his wife! 

Hugo Strange: Roscoe? As in Roscoe Dillon? The Top? 

Golden Glider: Of course! 

Hugo Strange: He doesn’t seem very dead to me. In fact, I finished my first therapy session with him only yesterday. 

Golden Glider: I didn’t say that he stayed dead. I just said that he died. 

Hugo Strange: Miss Snart, dead men do not spontaneously come back to life. That is simply not possible. 

Golden Glider: That’s what I thought at first, too...but Roscoe is special. He’s a psychic-telikentic and telepathic and all that-and it turns out that his powers also make it possible for him to survive a a ghost on the astral plane rather than moving on to the afterlife. (Pause) Have you heard of Deadman? 

Hugo Strange: The so-called ghost of Boston Brand? I have, but I am skeptical of the claims made about him. 

Golden Glider: Well, my Roscoe is like that, except that he can only possess corpses. But once he does, he can animate them and alter them so that they match his original, handsome form. I think he’s on his fifth body at the moment. 

Hugo Strange: What happened to bodies two through four?

Golden Glider: Well, the second body was the Flash’s father, Dr. Henry Allen, and unlike the other bodies, he never experienced brain death. Because of that, the Flash was able to drive Roscoe out of his body, and Dr. Allen’s soul took his body back. He abandoned the third body during a depressive episode, and the fourth body, of Senator Thomas O’Neil, was frozen and shattered by my brother, Lenny. 

Hugo Strange: Your brother…. killed your boyfriend? 

Golden Glider: In Lenny’s defense, he knew about Roscoe’s habit of coming back to life. But I was pretty ticked-off when I first found out about it. 

Hugo Strange: Why did he kill him? And where were you during all this? 

Golden Glider: Well, in between Roscoe’s third and fourth body, I didn’t hear anything from him for awhile, and so I assumed that he was gone for good. With that in mind, I started dating again-and picked the wrong guy. I’d outfitted him with some of Lenny’s old gear and called him Chillblaine, and he pretended that he wanted to work with me, but he was just setting me up for a double-cross. Eventually, he turned on me; froze me solid and put me in a coma. For over a year, the doctors thought  I was going to be in a vegetative state permanently. A couple months after I went into the coma, Roscoe came back, and when he found out what had happened to me, he went into a manic episode and tried to take control of the Rogues from Lenny. They had a fight, both of them tried to kill each other, and Lenny won. Six months after that, Roscoe came back in his fifth body, and shortly after that, Wally West-the redheaded Flash who used to be Kid Flash-somehow managed to bring me out of my coma. I like him. He’s nothing like Barry Allen. He’s as brave and honest as my Roscoe. 

Hugo Strange: And why did he do this? 

Golden Glider: He said that both Lenny and Roscoe were easier to deal with when I was conscious than when I was in a coma. (Pause) He’s a darling. 

Hugo Strange: I see. (Pause) So, Miss Snart, why the costume? 

Golden Glider: I was a famous figure skater, Dr. Strange. If I was going to take revenge, I needed to do it in disguise. 

Hugo Strange: And after your attempts at revenge failed and Roscoe came back to you, why did you persist in your criminal career? 

Golden Glider: Well, I could hardly go back to being a figure skater once I became a known criminal. Besides, I get to spend a lot more time with Roscoe and Lenny as a Rogue than I could when I was a figure skater. 

Hugo Strange: In speaking of the Rogues...you are the only female member of the group. Why is that? 

Golden Glider: Well, in the history of the Twin Cities, there have only been six female supervillains: Rose and Thorn, who’s so old she fought the Jay Garrick Flash, Blacksmith, who runs the Network, Christina Alexandrova, the lady speedster, Magenta, the magnetic witch, Peek-a-Boo, who barely even qualifies as a criminal, and delectable little me. Not every supervillain is a member of the Rogues, and, with so few ladies to choose from, it’s not that surprising that I was the only one to make the cut. (Pause) That, and my boyfriend and older brother are both members of the group, so that gave me an almost automatic in. 

Hugo Strange: Is it difficult to be the only woman in a group made up almost exclusively of men, Miss Snart? 

Golden Glider: Not even a little. Lenny’s the leader of the group, remember? No one wants to get him angry by upsetting his precious baby sister, so I get treated like a queen. 

Hugo Strange: You and your brother seem to be very close. 

Golden Glider: We are. Lenny practically raised me. He’s more a father to me than Larry ever was. 

Hugo Strange: You don’t resent him for leaving you alone with your father? 

Golden Glider: I used to, but I’ve mostly gotten over it, now. Larry would’ve killed him if he hadn’t left. Towards the end, they were fighting all the time. (Suddenly very angry) If I have resentment towards anyone-besides that self-righteous prig Barry Allen-it’s towards my rat of a father. 

Hugo Strange: Given what you suffered at your father’s hands, Miss Snart, your anger towards him is understandable. But are you sure that you aren’t projecting some of your feelings towards him into the Flash? I find it rather difficult to believe that the Flash, insane though his vigilante crusade may be, would deliberately kill anyone. 

Golden Glider: I’m not projecting anything, Doctor. Barry Allen did his level best to destroy my life and the life of my beloved Roscoe. I’m going to pay that favor back if it’s the last thing I ever do….and if I ever find my ‘father’-well, it’ll make what I’m going to do to Barry Allen seem kind. I’m going to get even-and once I do, no one will dare to even think about hurting me again! (Pause; then cheerfully) Thanks for listening, Dr. Strange. It’s good to get my feelings off my chest every once in awhile. 

Hugo Strange: (Puzzled) Ah...happy to be of assistance, Miss Snart. 

[momofaddict]

Thanksgiving day this year will be one year since my daughter lost her life to heroin OD. I've lost what little faith I had. I do believe in an afterlife, because the idea of NEVER seeing her again is unfathomable. But God, Heaven, Hell - they just seem like a fairy tale.

It still doesn't feel real, except that it feels very real as I raise her now 18 mo child. I love him with every fiber of my being, but as anyone who reads this knows, my plans for being a relaxed, traveling empty nester are gone. Maybe that's selfish, but I can accept that.

I'm so mad at her for leaving me and especially for leaving her child. I'm mad that my life, as I planned it, is gone. I'm mad that Phoenix's father killed himself 4 days after my daughter's death and I have to explain both deaths to him someday. I'm mad that I will have to face his full-blooded sister one day & explain why she was given up for adoption and Phoenix wasn't. I'm so sad and mad about this whole scenario and I'm so alone as a single woman. I was always happy being divorced since age 23. But now - I could really use the help. That's a hard thing to admit.

What's more is I miss my baby girl. She was my very very VERY best friend. I could be my true self with her, even in her addiction. How can life go on without her contagious laugh, her child-like trust in people, and her unique love for humanity? I can't believe it's been a year. If it weren't for her son, who is in my care until my end of days, I'd be so lost. I mean I'm still lost, but he gives me purpose and a means to press onward.

But while I'm unloading, I may as well admit that it's also difficult when I'm having a hard day. I have to put my happy face on when Phoenix gets home from daycare no matter what kind of wretched day I've had at work, or no matter if I just need to crawl into bed and cry for my daughter. I feel like if I project any kind of negativity around him, we will both be miserable. It's just me. My ex helps a couple days a week, but that means dealing with my ex... whom I left 30 years ago! Not fun, but I'd be an even hotter mess without any help at all.

Oh sure, everyone wanted to help at first when Melody died. But those offers are now silent and it's just me - and my ex. Ugh. I'm just exhausted, and sad, and scared, and alone. I miss her, I miss her, I miss her soooo effen much!

WHY HER!?

I finally started therapy. And I got really lucky and I love my new therapist, and found her on the first try. However... I've only had one session with her in four weeks. Week two, she was sick. Week three, I went to Colorado. Week four, yesterday, she canceled again because she has a friend in the hospital. I fucking need this woman to help me!

I leave you with this tribute that my son posted online on her birthday, Sept 8. She would have been 32. I couldn't have given a better description of her spirit and her adorable childlike naivete:

My sister, Melody, absolutely loved infomercials. It bordered on irrational. One year I received one of those copper pans for Christmas, and while I was happy to get it, she didn't think I understood the gravity of the gift I had just been given. "Do you know what that is?" she asked me at the time with complete sincerity and genuine concern that I didn't quite comprehend what an incredible technological wonder I had been given. "You can melt candy on that."

She absolutely had the HD glasses. They made your vision amazing. OxyClean, sure. Slap Chop, absolutely. It did not matter what was being sold; every product was solid gold, including when it was literally solid gold.

I know it seems silly to bring this up on what would have been her 32nd birthday today, but I think it says something important about her and who she was. She believed in people. It's not that she necessarily believed the products worked as advertised. It's that she believed in the ideas of making things better that they represented, and she believed that the people making the pitch believed in what they were pitching.

She could fully and wholeheartedly empathize with those complete strangers. So much more then, could she love, empathize with and believe in the people lucky enough to know her personally. She was somehow everyone's friend that they talked to on the side of a party or gathering they were starting to feel uncomfortable or out of place at. She made it seem so easy, which is what makes the next part so cruel.

She also suffered from heroin addiction for over a decade. It is the reason I keep using the god forsaken past tense instead of the present.

I have a lot of very bad memories from all of that time. I cried a lot then. I cry a lot still.

Please, if you know someone that suffers from addiction, don't write them off. This is not to say you should enable their addiction. Just encourage rehab and support groups. There are also support groups for friends and family members of people suffering from addiction. Addiction, whether it is to drugs, money, gambling, work, or any other flavor is a disease, and it desperately needs treatment. You don't have to go it alone, and, take it from someone who tried to, you shouldn't. It'll eat you alive.

In the end, though, don't feel sad for me. If you were fortunate enough to know my sister, you probably got, what, a few years? A decade? I got thirty one whole damn years.

I love you, Melody, and I miss you every god damn day.

[abigailmaitland]

Andi Mack 4B Plots

My 4A Plots

Trigger Warning for depression - nothing too dark, but it is a significant plot of this season.

Extra 4A plot to be nestled somewhere before the finale:

Halloween!

The GHC & Co. trying to decide whether they’re too old to go trick or treating. Intense debate with Cyrus, Andi, and Marty on one side, TJ, Buffy, and Jonah are on the other.

“How can you be too old for free candy?!” Cyrus exclaims.

“I’ve always hated dressing up,” Jonah rolled his eyes.

“Halloween is the best time to practice sewing!” Andi expresses.

“I hate sewing,” Buffy groans. “Besides, I’m trying to put my dentist out of business.” 

“It just seems like none of you want to have any fun.” Marty says.

“I’m on the high school basketball team. I have an image to keep.” TJ crosses his arms.

“Is the image a boring, funsucker? Because you’re nailing it,” Marty teases.

Eventually the opposing group crumbles underneath the pressure of their friends and free candy. Planning their route is also intense - Cyrus definitely has maps of Shadyside and a detailed house list of who gives the best candy with averages he’s kept throughout the years.  

The Crafty Crew joins them for trick & treating. 

Cyrus dresses up as Waldo. 

Andi makes a ‘cereal killer’ costume, including a cereal box skirt, blood, the whole shebang. Even Cyrus groans at the pun (but secretly high fives her). 

Buffy goes as Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Marty goes as Fred from Scooby Doo. Buffy says he was supposed to be Spike from BVS, Marty laughs and says he thought Buffy and Fred were a better match.

Jonah puts those fake vampire fangs in and some fake blood on his face. Buffy chases him around all night. TJ dresses up as a failed math test because it’s the scariest thing he can think of. 

Walker dresses as Miles Morales & Libby dresses as Hawkeye (we deserved a deaf hawkeye!) 

And finally, the episode ends with an intense candy trading session. Lots of smiles, laughs, and friendship/couple moments. Halloween episodes should always be the most lighthearted!

4B.

Episode One.

Bex is laying in bed. She’s awake, but she’s not doing anything but staring. Her phone goes off and it’s revealed to be 3pm. Andi’s calling. Bex hesitates, then answers. “Mom - are you okay? You were supposed to pick me up fifteen minutes ago.” 

Bex shuts her eyes, then opens them again. Suddenly, energy is in her voice. “Oh yeah - you know me, just running late. Traffic! I’ll be there soon, Andiman.” she hangs up quickly, she sighs. Her eyes are distant. She rushes to get ready, throwing on whatever she can, v messy, not caring how she looks.

Next scene Bowie is seen in a restaurant kitchen cooking. They ask him if he can stay late - he says no, he’s got to be at Red Rooster Records for the open mic night, revealing that he is working two jobs to try to start saving, referencing the potential for a second child (as Bex listed financial fears as a main reason).

We see Jonah’s apartment when he invites Cyrus over to hang out. Jonah says “it’s kind of small,” but Cyrus smiles and says “You know, it’s actually cozy. My house can be so...lonely.” Jonah kind of scoffs and rolls his eyes, muttering something about rich kid perspectives. He admits he had to get rid of a lot of stuff, including his old baseball gear and complains that he can’t play his guitar after a certain hour because his neighbors complain because the walls are basically paper thin. “Basically, don’t say anything you don’t want Dave to hear. He’s basically a member of the family at this point.”

Bex is off on the drive home with Andi. Andi’s talking non-stop about school events and how she failed the last project (revealed in the 4a finale) and how she needs to improve, but she feels so out of place in the school. Bex is saying “yeah” and “mhmmm”, barely listening. When they get home, instead of cooking, Bex orders pizza but doesn’t really eat much. Andi starts to get worried and asks if Bex is okay, but Bex just says she thinks she’s getting sick. Bowie comes home exhausted and both him and Bex fall asleep on the couch during a movie that they were supposed to watch as a family.

Cyrus is a little bothered by “the rich kid perspective” comment and tries to analyze how much his upbringing colors his opinions. The next day, he’s talking about it with Buffy and Andi at The Spoon and how he’s worried that he gives off entitled-rich kid vibes. They laugh and say sometimes he’s oblivious and dumb with money, but he’s not entitled. Andi complains about how tired Bowie always is now and then mentions how strange Bex was acting yesterday. Cyrus’s brain jumps to the worst possible conclusions. Buffy has to reassure Andi that everything is probably okay. As a distraction, she talks about how happy her parents are to be back together and shows off goofy pictures of them. She says her father hasn’t stopped talking about her mom in church since she’s gotten back. GHC smiles.

Episode Two.

Bex’s work has started to get a little sloppy and customers are leaving bad reviews. Celia presses into Bex, saying she didn’t invest so much money into this business just for Bex to get lazy. Bex sighs, shakes her head. “Reschedule my appointments for tomorrow, mom. I think I’m sick.” Celia’s eyes widen, as if she suddenly understands something. Bex goes home and slips back into bed. She doesn’t really go to sleep, but just scrolls her phone aimlessly.

Now that TJ is out at school, Cyrus asks him if he’s going to introduce him to his parents as his boyfriend. TJ awkwardly laughs and says “I should, shouldn’t I?” Cyrus nods. “But if it helps, we can have dinner as boyfriends with my parents first?” TJ’s eyes widen. “All of them? At once?!” Cyrus laughs. “No, we can do dinner at one house and dessert at the other?” TJ nods. “Uh, yeah okay.” Cyrus holds TJ’s hand. “Come on, Teej, you have nothing to worry about. They already love you.”

Jonah bumps into Amber in the hall and brings her to a quiet spot in the hallway. He grins and says he’s going to therapy. Amber asks him how it’s going and he shrugs, but doesn’t seem upset. He says “it sucks, but you know...it really does help. I really didn’t like it at first and didn’t talk, but he asked me to play some music the other week and that helped break the ice,” Jonah explained. Amber smiles and hugs him. “Congratulations, Jojo. I’m proud of you.” He asks how she’s doing. Amber says she’s getting there, but that she wished she was a freshman again because she’s struggling with her AP classes, driver’s ed, her job, and her family issues. He said it sounded like a lot, but that he’d try to be there for Amber because she was there for him. Amber nods and says she’ll keep that in mind. Suddenly, there’s a security guard telling them they have detention for skipping class.  At first, Jonah and Amber look at each other scared, then they crack up at the situation they’ve gotten themselves in.

Andi comes home and sees Bowie sitting with Bex in the bedroom. She overhears Bowie comforting her and then hears Bex saying “I don’t want Andi to know…” Andi freaks out, texting the GHC group chat saying something is wrong with her mom.

Episode Three.

Friendsgiving episode! GHC + Crafty Crew all get together at Andi’s apartment a week before Thanksgiving and have a huge feast. Cyrus put together a spreadsheet and organized who brought what. Buffy and Marty have a competition to make the best dessert. Jonah buys store-bought microwavable mashed potatoes. Andi decorates the entire space and Bowie makes the turkey. TJ brings the BEST Green Bean Casserole and everyone bothers him the entire episode to give up the recipe. They give each other updates; like the dinner with Cyrus’ parents went really well, Jonah and Amber talk about how their detention teacher hated them because they kept laughing, Buffy talks about her parents, etc. Everyone also shares traditions their family does for the holiday.

Walker says that his family covers the table with paper and everyone writes/doodles what they’re thankful for throughout the meal. They then hang it up until it’s time to decorate for Christmas. 

Libby says her family go on a long walk after dinner with each other.

TJ says his whole family plays football together before and after dinner.

Cyrus says he has several Thanksgivings and too many traditions to name - but his favorite is his mom’s side, who volunteers first and then have a small meal afterwards.

Buffy says after dinner they decorate for Christmas, which is her parent’s favorite holiday.

Jonah says they play a bunch of different board games and family games.

Amber says that her family doesn’t argue for the whole day - and also watches old home movies.

They ask Andi what traditions her family has. She seems upset and explains that they used to go to pop’s family and celebrate, but now they have to make new traditions without him because he left them. Everyone comforts her. Bowie overheard and tells Bex - they both want to give Andi the best Thanksgiving in the world. Bex tells Bowie that “all this family drama is why I don’t want Andi to know…” 

Episode Four.

Cece takes Andi out for a bonding day, saying that she’s been missing her. Andi says she misses her too. They go to an art museum and have lunch where Andi talks to Cece about not doing well in SAVA and maybe she’s not great at art like everyone thought. Cece tells Andi that when she was a toddler, she grabbed a pack of crayons and for weeks, she wouldn’t put them down. Cece would catch Andi awake at night DRAWING. Andi would fall asleep with a pack of crayons cuddled close to her. She’d color in the car, at restaurants, in the bathtub with bath crayons, everywhere she could. “And that first year you went to camp, I’ll never forget how excited you were about crafts...Andi, I don’t think you’re bad at art. I think you think you’re bad at art which is making you bad at art.”

Andi says “wow…” and knows that Cece is right. SAVA wouldn’t have chosen her otherwise. They go out to have Fro-yo and Cece asks how Andi is doing at home. Andi tells Cece that it’s been weird having Bowie working so much and then mentioned that Bex is acting strange too. She asked Cece if she knew anything about that and Cece nods. “Yes, but it’s your mother’s choice to tell you.” Andi complains that no one’s ever told her anything. 

Cece rolls her eyes and then says “Well I have important news. My dad is moving in with me.”

Andi asks “Wait, why? Is everything okay?”

“He’s okay, yes. He’s still healthy, especially for his age - but,” Cece pauses. “You know, he misses you and Bex. He’s been spending so much time with Mei and Ling and the twins and Ronald, he thought it’d be a nice surprise.” “Yeah, it has been awhile since we’ve seen him, but...he doesn’t need to move in with you. He could just visit, couldn’t he?”

“I asked him too.” “Why?”

“I thought it’d be good to have someone in the house. I know you, Cyrus, and Buffy still have sleepovers there, but it’s just been too empty for too long. I know how important Andi Shack is to you and how important the house is to your mom, so I decided to keep it.”

“Oh. Cece - I’m sorry. I guess I got caught up in my own stuff again…” Andi says, hugging Cece.

“It’s okay. You’re the child, remember?”

Cece drops Andi off. She calls Bex outside and they close the door. 

“Rebecca,” Cece says. Bex avoids her eyes and focuses on the ground, her nails pressing into her skin. You think it’s going to be a lecture, Bex thinks it’s going to be a lecture, but Cece pulls Bex into a hug. “Andi’s worried about you. You need to talk to her.”

Plot B of this episode is Buffy and Cyrus hanging out at Buffy’s house. We’re introduced to Buffy’s father (headcanon: he’s black. I know sofia is mixed, but I think it’d be cool to have men of color in the show). He wears a cross necklace and is clearly religious, but Cyrus never feels uncomfortable mentioning his boyfriend TJ. Buffy’s father treats Cyrus with nothing but love, honestly, and mentions that he’s the son they never had while eating dinner.

Episode Five.

Jonah reveals that he’s gotten a job as a cashier at The Red Rooster. He’s not immediately great at it, which causes a spike in his anxiety, but instead of having a panic attack he’s able to ground himself using techniques his therapist taught him.

Andi’s teacher, the one who was critical about her art, notices a huge change in Andi and her work and compliments her new project, stating that she knew Andi had it in her. Walker, Libby, and Andi all celebrate together at The Spoon.

Buffy & TJ hang out - they play basketball and get to know each other better. “I don’t think we’ve ever hung out without Cyrus,” TJ laughs. “Yeah...I don’t think so? This is nice,” They play H.O.R.S.E, as well as a game they made up where each basket they make, they get to ask a question. The harder the shot is, the harder the questions they can ask.

At home, Bex is pacing the bedroom. Bowie is sitting on the bed. Bex complains that she doesn’t know what she should do or how she should even talk about it. Bowie listens, nodding his head. “You know, when my father was sick, he didn’t want to tell me. He wanted to be strong and proud. And he almost didn’t tell me, but I found his medication. I was terrified because something bad could have happened any moment and it would’ve been a complete surprise to me.” he pauses. “Andi is worried about you and probably thinks something really bad is going to happen and I don’t think it’s fair to hide it. Besides...she’s starting to get to that age where maybe it’ll start to affect her…”

Episode Six. 

Christmas is coming up and the GHC + Crafty Crew go to the mall. They split up into their normal groups; TJ, Jonah, Marty + Walker and Cyrus, Andi, Buffy + Libby. They’re playing Secret Santa for each other so they’re trying to hide the gifts they’re buying and throwing each other off. Of course, they’re also buying gifts for their SOs. 

Secret Santa List -

TJ has to buy for Marty

Jonah has to buy for Buffy

Cyrus has to buy for Jonah

Marty has to buy for Andi

Andi has to buy for TJ

Buffy has to buy for Cyrus

TJ fretting about what Cyrus would want and if he should even do a Christmas gift because Cyrus doesn’t celebrate (he would celebrate non-religious aspects with Buffy & Andi some years)

Cyrus complaining that Christmas is so materialistic - but then also trying to find the best gift to give TJ and Jonah.

But while TJ, Jonah, Marty, and Walker are shopping trouble arises when they’re wandering around a store, picking up different things, putting them down and whatnot. At some point, Walker notices a security guard staring him down. He feels uncomfortable, but knows he didn’t do anything wrong and continues to just walk around the store with Jonah, Marty and TJ. But it all goes wrong when the group tries to leave the store. They’re all stopped by the security guard, but Walker is singled out. The guard says that he knows that somebody in this group stole and that he has his suspicions as to who. The group all look at each other and furiously shake their heads, saying none of them stole. The guard asks Walker to empty his pockets. Walker does, he has nothing in his pockets besides his wallet and house keys. The guard lets them all go with a warning. Walker is embarrassed and angry that no one else had to empty their pockets. The group buy him some food to try to cheer him up and all agree that it was really wrong.

Episode Seven.

Christmas/Hanukkah special.

They all celebrate their respective holidays. Cyrus invites TJ to celebrate Hanukkah the day after Christmas. TJ of course agrees. We see Cyrus’ family celebrate Hanukkah. Andi, Bex, Bowie, Cece, her dad AND Mei, Ling, her husband, Ronald, and the twins celebrate at Cece’s house. Mei and Cece start to argue, but their dad reigns them in. They finally call a truce after their entire lives of competition and decide their feud isn’t worth it. (“What were we even fighting with to begin with?”) Buffy goes to church and celebrates with her family. Marty celebrates with his family; it’s the first Christmas with his step-siblings. 

The gifts they all bought for each other are revealed when GHC + CO get together during Christmas afternoon. TJ gets Marty a joke gift (probably something about always forgetting him), Jonah buys Buffy a bag full of all of her favorite snacks/candy, Cyrus got Jonah an anchor necklace to keep him grounded and a guitar tuner, Marty buys Andi some weird gag gift like a yodelling pickle, Andi buys TJ a Troy Bolton basketball jersey, and Buffy buys Cyrus a mug that says ‘you’re so weird, i like you’ because she knows Cyrus loves mugs.

TJ and Cyrus psyched themselves out and ended up panicking and getting something neither of them really liked. They laugh about it and then realize they should get to know each other better.

Buffy and Marty treated it like a competition. Buffy got Marty a pace tracker that goes on his sneakers, a scrapbook for his future marathons, and those weird toe socks. Marty gave Buffy two of his hoodies, a necklace shaped like deer antlers which symbolizes strength and gentleness, and an NBA video game that they can play at his house. 

The episode is light-hearted and easy, but the whole episode Bex is still just a little off. Bowie and Cece are extra mindful of her. Andi is still really confused and worried. At the end of the episode, when they all get home, Bex sits on the couch and says “Andi...I have something to tell you.”

HIATUS.

Episode Eight.

Special opening similar to the gun-control episode, as well as the anxiety/panic attack opening talking about how mental health is important and if you or a friend are struggling, tell a trusted adult and take care of yourself.

“Andi...I have something to tell you.” Bex’s voice is serious. There’s a lot of tension. Andi seems worried. Bex seems nervous. Bowie has his hands on Bex’s shoulders comfortingly. 

“Mom? I’m scared...are you sick?”

“Yes,” Andi seems shocked and scared at this revelation. “But not the way you’re thinking, Andi...gosh, this would be easier if I was still just your cool, older sister.” because this is the kind of thing that ‘cool, edgy’ older siblings go through. Not parents. “Andi, I have depression. I’ve had it since I was about your age. It...doesn’t go away, but I’ve been on medication since my twenties and it worked great. But, with work stress and everything that happened with Pops, well...it stopped working. I should have been more open with you and everyone and gotten help when it started…”

Andi stops tensing. She sits with Bex on the couch. “Mom...I didn’t know…”

“Yeah, only Bowie and Cece did. I wanted to be the best mom in the world, especially after giving you up for so long. I wanted to do everything and be everything for you - I didn’t want you to have to worry about me or feel like you had to take care of me. I wanted to be strong.”

“Mom, I love you. You don’t need to pretend to be something you’re not or do more than you can.”

Bex hugs Andi. She’s definitely crying.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Andiman. You don’t have to worry or take care of me ever, okay? I’m the adult. I’ve talked to Bowie and Cece. I’m going to get my medications adjusted and I’m going to go to therapy.”

Andi feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of her chest but it only lasts momentarily. She gets out of the hug.

“Mom, I learned about depression in school…” She pauses. “It can be genetic...what if I get it?”

“Then we’ll help you through it. No matter what.” Bex and Bowie wrap her in a hug again. “You talk to us, though, okay? Don’t hide it like I did.”

PLOT B. Buffy and Marty have a massive fight. This leaves TJ and Cyrus in awkward positions because TJ thinks that Marty is right and Cyrus always sides with Buffy. This leaves Jonah has a tie-breaker and he totally panics and exclaims that this is why he hates relationships. When they realize that he got really anxious choosing a side, they realize they were being stupid and shouldn’t have put anyone in the middle of the fight. They all apologize to him and make up.

Episode Nine.

Buffy’s birthday!

Similar to Bowie, Buffy has never liked huge birthday parties or attention on her birthday. Andi says “Buffy likes attention everyday...except her birthday.” Cyrus and Andi make sure to tell Marty the first of the month that under no circumstances should he try to surprise her. He asks Cyrus and Andi what they do for her birthday then. Cyrus says that they have a Buffy birthday tradition that they’ve been doing since the second grade.

They meet at Buffy’s house for a celebratory breakfast of Froot Loops and chocolate milk because Buffy went through a phase where that’s the only thing she would eat and drink for breakfast, then they walk to school no matter what the weather because on her birthday in second grade, she demanded to be able to walk alone because she was “all grown now” (her parents followed them, just further behind. If it’s a weekend, they walk to The Spoon). After school, they walk back to her house and they play Buffy’s favorite game at the time “Twister” (Cyrus’ least favorite game) and have a silent dance party (at the time, her mother had just come back from war and asked them to not make too much noise). Then, they eat “garbage pizza” because Buffy had just learned the name of it and thought it was hilarious, and her favorite cake. Then, Andi and Cyrus stayed up as late as possible watching whatever movies Buffy wanted to watch.

During lunch, while Cyrus, TJ, and Jonah are getting their lunch, Marty asks Buffy if he can join in on her birthday traditions. Buffy is pretty rigid and likes the traditions as is, but says that maybe they can create their own birthday tradition. Marty comes up with the idea of a three-legged race (Him and Buffy vs TJ and Jonah) and then going out for ice cream - that way, all of Buffy’s new friends and boyfriend can be included before she goes back home to celebrate with the GHC.

That goes just about as well as anyone would think. Hilarious montage, honestly. This is the silliest idea I’ve come up with and yet, I love it. 

Episode Ten.

After school, Jonah and Buffy decide to hang out. They go to a skatepark. Jonah is much better than Buffy - which he celebrates and exclaims “finally!” She’s determined to learn a pop-shove it.

While at work, Bex thanks Cece for supporting her during her depression and tells her that she got her medications adjusted and is starting to feel better. Cece nods and says “I’m really sorry for not supporting you when you were younger. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” Bex forgives her.

TJ and Cyrus experience some homophobia both in school and outside of school. Cyrus gets upset and insecure, TJ loses his cool. They sigh and realize that it’s probably something they’ll have to go through a lot - but at least they have each other to go through it with.

Andi, Bex, and Bowie go to Cece’s house to spend time with their grandfather/great-grandfather. During the visit, Bex and Andi brush up on their Mandarin, they play games like dominos, cards, and Mahjong, and they eat traditional Chinese food. 

Episode Eleven. 

Amber got her driver’s license. She surprises Andi & Buffy on a weekend for a road trip. They drive to the town nearing Shadyside and have all sorts of adventures. They take lots of pictures to always remember this momentous occasion.

Cyrus is sick which leaves Jonah, TJ, and Marty alone unsupervised. They decide to have an adventure of their own and have a giant game of “The Floor is Lava” in public. They get kicked out of multiple locations. They end the day by going to The Spoon and having an eating competition to see who could finish their burger, fries, and milkshakes first. Being that TJ and Marty are used to bulk eating, Jonah is definitely the one who gives up and almost throws up.

Episode Twelve.

Walker, Libby, and Andi are preparing for the end of the year project where they could potentially be accepted into the school’s gallery, which is an honor and a party. Andi knows that she can create something amazing - but doesn’t know what she wants to do yet. They’re all stuffed into Andi shack, bouncing ideas off of each other. Walker wants to do a self-portrait vs. how the world sees him, Libby wants to create a sign-language sculpture, Andi is conflicted and has no idea what she wants to create.

Buffy/Marty + Cyrus/TJ double date. Lots of hijinks. They also definitely go bowling and Cyrus tries to bowl without bumpers. At one point, TJ ran to the bathroom and told Cyrus to take his turn (it didn’t matter because he was so far ahead, there was no chance of Cyrus ruining his chances of winning) Cyrus rolls a strike and celebrates. He then tries endlessly to replicate it for his own turns to no avail.

While at work, Jonah is talking to Bowie about life. He says that therapy is going really well and he hasn’t had many panic attacks since. He thanks Bowie for being there for him in the beginning and Bowie says that it’s no problem at all and that he’s glad Jonah is getting professional help. Jonah says that he really looks up to Bowie and tells him that today was career day and that the high schoolers were prompted to think about what they want to do when they’re an adult. Jonah said he has been thinking about pursuing music and wants to join a band. Bowie smiles and tells Jonah that he reminds him a lot of him when he was Jonah’s age. He advises Jonah to join a band, but to do it for the music and not for fame, because when he’s older and traveling, he might regret not being home for big things. Jonah tells Bowie that if he doesn’t do music for the rest of his life, he doesn’t know what else he would do. Bowie shrugs and says “You might not know what you want to do now, you might not know what you want to do when you’re 23, or 45, or 55. Life isn’t a straight line, it’s full of twists and turns. Just follow your heart and listen to The Universe in those times and you’ll end up where you need to be.”

Episode Thirteen.

Andi has decided that her end of the year project will be focused on her family. She decides to create a literal family tree - she crafts a tree and each branch has a picture of each family member. Branches, like Pops and his family’s, are clearly snapped at the base to show that it’s a broken tree and he left. Bex’s branch has the picture of her as a teen after just giving birth to Andi, Bowie’s branch splits into two to show that he was absent for 13 years, but then heavily involved, etc. (IDK. I know nothing about art and couldn’t come up with anything else lol)

Bex starts to participate in her photography club again, has been doing better at work, and has become more involved in the PTA at SAVA again. Bowie asks her if she remembers what they were talking about earlier in the year. Bex says “Another baby?” Bowie nods. “Yeah...I’m ready now.” He grins and tackles her in a hug and lots of kisses.

TJ gets his first A in math class, on the final test to boot, after a lot of hard work, tutoring, and accomodations. Cyrus takes him out on a date to celebrate.

Buffy and Marty are in this episode at some point, probably not a big part tbh. Mostly because I’m losing steam lol.

Episode Fourteen.

Andi made it into the gallery. Her entire family, GHC+, and Crafty Crew turn up to the gallery to see it and they all go to the after party for her. Cece says “I told you you just needed to believe in yourself first…” Bex and Bowie tell Andi how proud of her they are and because they are literally awful at timing, tell her that they’re going to be trying for a baby. Andi has very mixed feelings about this, but Walker interrupts and drags her out to dance and party with everyone.

The night ends with Cyrus, Buffy, and Andi having a sleepover. Lots of hugs, celebrations, and love. They definitely squish Andi when she’s sitting between them on the couch while watching movies.

At the end of the episode, Andi texts Jonah about how mixed she feels about having a sibling. Jonah says he can understand - she feels like she might be being replaced, that he felt that way a couple times. Andi asks, like when? Jonah admits that he felt that way when he saw Walker and Andi at the Bar Mitzvah and that was his first panic attack. Andi said that she had no idea he was having panic attacks that long, Jonah says “well now you know. Sorry for not telling you.” Jonah tells her that he’ll always be there to listen to her if she needs it.

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

Jonah Beck & The Doors

Word Count: 1,870 TW: implied abuse, bruising A/N: i think i read a fic like this a while back somewhere, but i can’t remember?? anyways i’ve been thinking about jonah’s home life for a while, and i wanted to write a fic dedicated to it!! i hope you enjoy!

also this isn’t ship oriented, just good friends!

Monday mornings were never days that anyone looked forward to. Staying up late on a Sunday proved to be a bad choice, when you walked in looking like a twice-dead zombie.

Monday mornings were worse if you were Jonah Beck and you were walking in with a black eye and bruises down your right arm (his frisbee-throwing arm!). But nobody needed to know why he wasn’t looking like a ray of sunshine.

Just smile, he thought to himself, grinning as he entered the school, his head hung low, smile, and everything is going to be all right.

Before the bell for first period rang, Jonah shuffled to his locker and grabbed his books for Geometry, his least favorite class.

���Jonah, hey!” a familiar voice that could only be Andi called. She bounced over to him, pushing her bangs to the side.

Jonah grimaced; there was no way that he was getting out of this conversation without making eye contact.

Now or never, he thought to himself, picking up his head.

“Hey Andiman,” he greeted, tugging on his backpack straps with nervous energy as Andi sucked in the air that surrounded them.

“Jonah! Your eye...what happened?” she fretted, her soft brows eyes flooding with worry as she scanned his injuries.

“Oh, uh, I was at frisbee practice and I missed it completely!” he lied smoothly, smiling so hard his face was starting to hurt, “yeah, Gus threw it and I guess the sun was in my eyes because the next thing I know BAM!” he exclaimed, “frisbee to the face. I’ll be fine though,”

Andi seemed relieved with this answer, nodding her head. “Well, be careful out there. Put some ice on it to help the swelling,” she informed him, wincing at the shrill bell that signaled first period.

“I will, thanks. See you at lunch.” Jonah pivoted on his heel and hurried away, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. That went...surprisingly smoothly.

“And since these angles are equal, we can deduct that the shape is-”

“Pst!” Buffy whispered, tapping Jonah’s desk lightly, “do you have an extra pencil?”

Jonah nodded, digging through his bag and pulling out a few crumpled papers before handing Buffy a pencil.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, focusing her attention on the problem on the board. Why was geometry so boring? This class was definitely the one that seemed to drag on and on. After several more proofs, the bell rang and the students were never as happy as they were now.

“Remember to do the last few problems in the packet!” The teacher reminded his students, grabbing his eraser and clearing the board of any stray marks.

“Ugh, I don’t want tooo,” Jonah groaned, tilting his head up to face the light from the ceiling. Curse gravity for allowing his hood from his sweatshirt to fall. Curse the university for having Buffy standing right in front of him.

“Dude, your eye!” she gawked, taking a step closer and examining it like she was his doctor, “did you get in a fight?”

Something like that, he thought to himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “No, I, uh, I actually got hurt playing frisbee. I ran to catch one and then tripped over a tree root, and fell,” he lied, curling his toes inside his sneakers. Was that what he had told Andi? He knew it had something to do with frisbee, but he wasn’t sure. Close enough.

“Yikes,” she commented, her brows furrowing, “well, make sure to put ice on that, or use some sort of concealer to make it look less...bad.” She then handed Jonah his now dull pencil and promptly turned to walk to class.

The athlete exhaled shakily, shuffling out of the classroom and back to his locker.

It seemed to get easier and easier to lie to people. Throughout the day, people had come up to him, asking him why he looked like he was beaten in a fight. And he would calmly explain that he hurt himself in frisbee practice, even throwing in a few jokes about him being clumsy in there. It seemed to please people, and by the end of the day, he even made a few ‘friends’, or rather close acquaintances, who had shared their stories about sports injuries.

Safe to say, Jonah was feeling a lot better by the time it was time to walk home. Until he realized what home meant, and his happy demeanor disappeared.

“Ready to go?” Cyrus chirped from his locker, holding his history book under one arm and having his bag slung over his opposing shoulder.

“Yeah,” he replied shakily, feeling his Adams apple wobble in his throat. He and Cyrus always walked home together, but today was different. He was terrified that Cyrus would give him one look and all his carefully constructed walls would come crumbling down. And he totally would have made it home without any issue were it not for Cyrus pointing out the fall foliage.

“Look, Jonah! Aren’t the maple leaves just gorgeous in the fall?” he gushed, a huge grin splitting his face.

Jonah peered up at the leaves, being basked by the golden sunlight. Squinting, he tried to make out the colors. “Yeah, they’re pretty nice,” he mumbled, his eyes trailing down the trunk of the tree until something obstructed his view; Cyrus was standing directly in front of him. Staring at him in the eyes. At the one that was bruised.

“Jonah,” he started softly, his eyebrows drawn up in concern, “what happened to your eye?”

Jonah tried to follow his routine that he had perfected at school. First step was to smile, but it was weaker, and faker, than before. Cyrus definitely noticed that. Bless his inner therapist.

“Dude, I totally fumbled at frisbee practice yesterday. Collided with one kid going for the frisbee and we just...clashed,” he lied, grinning so hard that it was starting to physically hurt.

Meeting Cyrus’ eyes, he knew it was over; Cyrus had that ‘look’ that meant he knew something was up, but he was going to wait until Jonah spilled. The Jewish boy wasn’t one to intrude.

“We didn’t have practice yesterday, Jonah,” Cyrus reminded him, “or else I would have been there to hand out snacks and things like that.”

It was definitely over at this point. No way Jonah was going to squeeze out of this situation.

“It-it’s nothing major really,” he lied again, his voice low along with his head. Trying to focus on all the fallen leaves on the ground was not helping; they just made him think of Cyrus and that damned face.

The two walked in uncomfortable silence for a bit, kicking at the brittle leaves under the soles of their shoes. Cyrus finally broke the silence as they pulled up to his driveway.

“I’d really like it if you came inside,” he offered kindly, “my parents definitely won’t mind, and I can text your mom and tell her you’re here,”

Jonah stared at him at first, blinking owlishly, until he softly nodded his head, ducking into Cyrus’ house.

“Mom! I’m home!” Cyrus called, but to no response, “she’s probably in a therapy session, but we can go to my room.” He led the other boy up the stairs, texting Mrs. Beck that he and Jonah were working on a school project, to which she replied ‘thank you for telling me’.

“So,” Cyrus began, ushering Jonah inside and motioning for him to take a seat on his beanbag, “I’m not going to force you to talk. We can just sit here until you’re ready,”

“Your inner therapist is jumping out,” Jonah joked weakly, his lips twitching into a gentle smile, “...I just-I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted after a beat.

“In what sense?” Cyrus pried, crossing his legs, “hold on. Turn towards me, I wanna see your eye,”

Jonah chewed on his lip, biting down so hard that he threatened to draw blood. “Lately I’ve...I don’t even really know why but,” he paused, holding his breath for a few seconds. Now was not when he wanted to cry. He didn’t want to cry at all, but he hadn’t even said what happened.

“Take your time,” Cyrus assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He could feel Jonah tense at the touch, and immediately removed his hand. “Sorry,”

“It’s not your fault, I’m just...clumsy.” He picked the word with caution, his hand trailing up towards his bruised eye, tentatively gracing his skin.

“You’re one of the most athletically gifted people I know, Jonah. You’re not clumsy,” Cyrus promised him, tracing circles into his own palm.

“I...I walked into a door,” he managed to spit out, sucking in all the oxygen that surrounded him and Cyrus. How badly he wished he could have taken back his words. He really didn’t want Cyrus to worry about him.

Cyrus felt like he’d just been punched in the gut, all the air knocked out of him. Jonah, sweet and happy Jonah, was going through one of the worst situations imaginable. “How long have you been...walking into doors?”

Jonah sighed, leaning his head against Cyrus and taking in the comforting scent of his lemon shampoo. “I-I think...for a few months. The first one I walked into wasn’t bad; there wasn’t even bruising. But after that...I became more and more clumsy.” His voice cracked in the middle of his words, tears pushing against his lashes.

Another sickening feeling overtook Cyrus, who gingerly put an arm around Jonah. “Is this okay?” he asked, not wanting to overstep again. He could feel Jonah nod against his shoulder, and slowly rubbed his arm. Jonah winced, and Cyrus immediately stopped.

“I-ran into a really bad door the other day,” he admitted, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a few fading bruises, a few blue, the others yellow in color.

Cyrus swallowed thickly, examining Jonah’s bruises carefully, his dainty fingers brushing against his arm. “If-if you ever find yourself running into any more doors, you know you can always call me and sleepover,” he murmured, a sympathetic smile playing on his lips.

Jonah tried to smile back, but collapsed into Cyrus’ chest, his tears staining the other boy’s light blue shirt. And he wanted to stop so badly but that was beyond his control; he’d slipped into a world where he no longer held the reins.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Cyrus reassured him over and over, “It’s terrible what’s happening, and I’m so sorry, but things will be alright,”

Jonah didn’t know how long he stayed there, tangled in Cyrus arms and bawling his eyes out. It was relieving in a way; it definitely helped to be able to tell someone.

“Thanks,” he mumbled after a while, prying himself off of Cyrus, “for...helping me with these pesky doors,” he sighed, running his hands through his matted hair.

“Of course,” Cyrus replied immediately, a weak smile dancing on his lips, “and Jonah?”

“Yeah?“

“If you ever think you’re going to walk into a door again, your room is a place where you can’t do that. Try and find solidarity,”

Jonah beck smiled genuinely for the first time that day. Things were going to be okay.

tag list: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ghostswasp || @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian ||​ @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz

[of-another-broken-heart]

I need to get back in the habit of posting snippets of stuff here a little more often... I’ve been doing good with my goal of writing in a physical book a bit each day, but I’ve definitely been missing out on the helpfulness of having a time-stamped reference available anywhere there’s internet to check on some details when my brain is... being... Like That(TM). 

My newest diagnosis pretty thoroughly eclipsed some happier news on Friday. I got very invested in making a new D&D character for a one-shot I’ll be joining in on sometime soon. Very counter to my Super-Homebrew Plant Fey Bae Druid for the big campaign I play in, this one-shot character’s most deviant trait is her height. She’s a Mountain Dwarf Paladin, and I wanted her to be BIG for a Dwarf, so I set her height at the maximum given in the race description. When I got to the actual dice-based trait assignment, though, I found out that despite giving a maximum height of 5 feet for Dwarves, the dice rolls only technically supported a height up to 4′8″... so I nudged the base dice rolls up from a d4 to a d6 and “cheated” my way into double 6′s to explain my max-height Dwarf. DM was amused at the PHB discrepancy and very on board for Big Dwarf Paladin. I still have some details to iron out for her, but for the most part she’s ready to play! Her name is Nellian Trueforge, she’s a guild artisan (blacksmith and jeweler) and a devotee of Tharmekhûl, and her holy mission is to spread the good of her craft and her god wherever she may journey. Her Paladin Oath is the Oath of the Ancients, so her whole Thing(TM) is centered around universal good, cheer, positivity... and her biggest flaw is that she’s perhaps a little too optimistic. Her second biggest flaw would be her fairly charmed/privileged life has made the truer realities of suffering foreign to her, so she struggles to understand trauma and cynicism in others. 

Friday night I got to play a pretty lengthy “side mission” with my Super-Homebrew Plant Fey Bae Druid, where they accompanied another party member on what was supposed to be a low-level, high-body-count Adventurer’s Guild quest (they are a Warlock with a pact with Belial, and they can collect souls for special crafting projects). Things went smooth and easyfor 75% of the adventure, but the end was an at-level challenge (a summoned kuo-toa Goddess) that we tackled with the help of some of the super nice magical items our DM rains on us on the regular. The scenario was fun, the people involved did some quality role-playing, witty banter, and punning, and I spent some time after the session doing some much-needed character sheet tending and Bag of Holding (spreadsheet) upkeep. I remembered to take my sleep med sometime between 11 and 12, but I think I was up until 5 AM doing document management. 

Yesterday (Saturday) I was only up for like... 12 hours. I slept a lot after I finally crawled into bed, and didn’t get up until nearly 3 PM. It was a pretty chill day. Mostly just did FFXIV stuff. Finished my WT book for the week, played around in Hydatos some more (kept getting in instances that would lock early, though, so mostly just farmed low-exp bunnies for chances at Eureka-locked loot... got my first-ever gold chest from them, but didn’t get the loot I wanted)... I took my sleep med, and I am pretty sure I was asleep by 3 AM. 

Today I slept a lot, too. I got out of bed... around 1? I don’t remember exactly. I woke up to an alert from some psuedo-fascist comment response on YouTube where they twisted the age-old advice of “If you’ve got nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” into “THIS IS WHAT ORWELL WARNED US ABOUT!! THOUGHT POLICING!! THIS IS 1984!!!!!” and that... wasn’t pleasant. 

I didn’t make myself in any way presentable for public, but I went out anyway. My brain meds run out tomorrow, so I wanted to get my refills in hand before it felt like a red alert. I also stopped by a gas station, and irresponsibly splurged on a $2 novelty latte from Dunkin - they have a deal on mediums and have the Girl Scout Cookie flavors again. All in all, today cost $30. 

My new med, for life-long hypothyroid treatment, isn’t fully covered by insurance. There’s a shitty irony to that, I guess. My brain meds are covered, my sleep meds are covered, and my birth control is covered... but my Vitamin D, and my hormone replacements, I gotta pay for. 

And like... those are the 2 things I can’t do anything about. I can cope without the brain meds, if I really have to. Hell, if my financial situation improves, coping with my Hellbrain is pretty easy actually. I’ve gone my whole life with my shitty sleep problems, so coping with that again wouldn’t be too big a deal. And while birth control certainly makes my monthly bleeds a whole lot more tolerable, coping with THAT pain was also something I just gritted my teeth through, too. 

But my body literally attacking its own thyroid and permanently being incapable of producing life-necessary hormones for healthy bodily functions? My body literally being incapable of producing adequate Vitamin D amounts to stay healthy? Money. More money. 

It’s not even a lot of money. The Vitamin D price is like $0.94, and the thyroid hormone replacement is $1.00. But when your income is $0... having an infinite, recurring $2 price tag on your life-critical meds is still an impossible cost. 

And I know I just got paid for a house sitting gig. But the majority of that needs to go into my shaky bank account, to keep the damn thing open and pay for another couple months of internet access, because the internet is my greatest tool for coping, socializing, looking for work, and just generally keeping informed about things. 

Oh. I got approved for more therapy sessions. I don’t remember if I noted that here. The approval was basically for weekly sessions, from Feb 18 to May 18. There are two big problems with that, though. 

1) I cannot afford weekly trips out of town. 

2) Even if I could, the therapist is booked solid most of the time, so even if I tried to book as many openings as I could, right now, there would still be weeks where there simply aren’t any open appointments to fill. 

So like... I’m still going to try for more. I booked another appointment towards the end of the month, and if I get 1-2 in March, 1-2 in April, and 1 in May, I’ll consider it worth the effort of getting the approval in the first place. That’s still only... a maximum of 6 of the approved 13, though. Less than half. Feels bad. 

[i-know-you-can]

Domesticity - Chapter 6 - A bad day

Summary: A series of overly sappy and fluffy domestic one shots set a couple of years after season 1. Canon compliant until the end of season 1, if the alternative ending with Jughead moving in with the Coopers actually happened.

AKA Betty and Jughead stood the test of time and now they’re starting a new chapter of their life

Rated: T

Chapters: 6/?

A/N: Did anyone miss this story? I know it was supposed to be a side project but it kinda became my main project so I feel bad for sitting on this chapter for a while. But you know how it is when things get busy. I hope you enjoy :)

read on AO3

read on fanfiction.net

“Hey, Betts, how was your…” Jughead greets Betty from the couch when he hears the front door opening, but the original question gets stuck in his throat the moment he sees her. “What's wrong?” Jughead asks in alarm when he sees the tears staining his wife's face as she enters the apartment. He's by her side in an instant, his eyes searching hers with concern, horror scenarios entering his mind. “What happened?” He runs his gaze over her multiple times and breathes a sigh of relief once he’s sure she’s not physically hurt.

“It's nothing. It's stupid.” She tries to brush it off. She had been fighting tears successfully for hours, but the moment she got into the elevator up to their apartment she could no longer hold them in. Betty spent several minutes trying to compose herself before coming inside, not wanting to worry Jughead, but despite her attempt he sees right through her and she breaks down in sobs as he pulls her into a hug.

“It's not stupid if it made you cry,” he whispers into her hair and guides her towards the sofa, pulling her down with him and tucking her into his side, his arms firmly wrapped around her thin frame. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just... had a terrible day. At work.” She sobs into Jughead's shirt, feeling stupid for overreacting to something that most people probably deal with daily. But Betty Cooper has always been too hard on herself. And even though she's Betty Jones now, that hasn't changed. “The editor in chief told me I need to scrape the whole article I’ve been working on for a week, because it doesn't fit the theme.” She puts air quotes around the last three words, trying to dry the tears off her face with the back of her hand, but they keep falling down quicker than she manages to wipe them off. “And then when I tried to pitch some of my ideas to her, she said I might be in over my head and should leave that to more experienced editors.” Her voice wavers and she breaks out into another wave of sobs. She spent the whole day fighting tears, not wanting to give her boss another reason to criticize her, but now in Jughead’s arms she’s unable to stop.

Jughead listens to his wife intently as he rubs circles on her back, willing her to calm down. It breaks his heart to see her cry, especially when he can't fix whatever is bothering her. “Betty, baby,” he says, gently stroking her face, making her look up. “You're so smart and wonderful and passionate about your job. Don't let them bring you down because they're not willing to see it.”

“I don't even know what I'm doing wrong.” She hiccups. “It's like nothing I write or come up with is good enough for them. They keep treating me like a child. Like I don't know anything. And I'm not allowed to do anything. Not allowed to learn.” Betty's breathing getting shallow, her heart beating faster than it should and she's sure she's diving head first into a panic attack. She hasn't had one in months and an optimistic part of her hoped that being done with full time education would only make them less frequent. Little did she know that starting her first proper job would pull her right back into feeling stressed, worthless and like she doesn’t belong there and has no control over any of it. The very things that have always been causing her anxiety.

Jughead feels Betty stiffen in his arms, the sound of her quiet sobs replaced by shallow breaths and he knows what's going on well before he sees the panicked look in her eyes. “Betts,” he says gently, taking her hands into his and pressing them against his chest. “Follow my breathing. Slowly in an out, okay?” Betty nods, trying to follow the rising and falling of his chest, imitating the action herself. She can hear Jughead talking to her in a calm steady voice but she doesn’t register any of it as the world around her becomes a blur, the tears running down freely as she desperately tries to breathe. She's not sure how much time has passed, could've been seconds or hours, but eventually she feels the panic subside, the uncontrollable energy inside her body suddenly replaced by exhaustion.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Jughead asks quietly once he feels her body relax a little. All he wants to do is hug her and shield her from the whole world, making sure nothing ever hurts her again. But he has seen this happen enough times to know it's better to ask and not assume Betty's needs.

“Can you just... hold me?” she whispers and Jughead pulls her closer again, letting her head rest on his chest.

“Always.” He smiles as he presses a soft kiss to her hair and she wraps her arms around his torso, snuggling as close to him as possible and falling asleep within seconds.

 ---

“Oh, honey, I'm flattered but you didn't have to,” Jughead says with a grin as he points to the bouquet of flowers in Betty's hands, glad to see that today there are no tears staining her cheeks.

“Then it's good I didn't.” She smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling out a vase, filling it with water and putting the flowers in, wondering what would be the best place for them. “I saw these on the way home and thought I could treat myself to something pretty.”

“Is this a subtle way of telling me I should buy you flowers more often?” Jughead cocks his eyebrows in question and Betty giggles.

“No. But feel free to do that any time. It certainly won't make me mad.” She eventually decides to set the vase on the coffee table before she walks back to the kitchen area and wraps her arms around Jughead's waist, peaking over his shoulder as he stirs something on the stove. “What are you making? It smells amazing.”

“Spanish style chicken with tomato sauce,” he answers simply, pouring some spices into the pot before resuming to stirring it vigorously.

“Ah, the only meal my mom refused to teach me.” Betty laughs and hauls herself on top of the kitchen counter next to Jughead, watching him intently. There is something about men in aprons that makes her hot and tingly. Or perhaps it's just Jughead.

“She said there should be something only I can cook in our household, so I can feel needed or something.” He shrugs, not quite sure what Alice's intention was, but he appreciates she imposed some of her cooking knowledge on him. While living with his parents, they often had to resort to frozen ready-to-cook meals or TV dinners. After moving in with the Coopers, he found out that home cooked meals didn't require spending half of your paycheck and that cooking a meal from scratch felt so much more rewarding. So, when Alice offered to teach him and Betty how to cook some basic meals before they went off to college, he was more than eager to learn.

“My mom has a strange way of thinking.”

“Yeah,” Jughead chuckles, puts the lid on the pot and wipes his hands on his apron, going through the steps once again in his mind to make sure the meal will turn out the way it's supposed to. “How was the session? Feeling any better today?” he asks placing his hands on the counter, one on each side of Betty, looking up at her lovingly. While she shares everything with him, he knows there are things he can't help her with. Issues she better discuss with a professional. While he may not have any solutions for her, he still wants to show his support.

“Much.” Betty nods, smiling at him and leans over for a soft kiss. Words cannot describe how happy she is to have him by her side during times like these. Times when she feels like she's going a bit crazy. “I guess with moving here, starting a new job and signing up for those online classes I was pushing therapy aside when I shouldn't have. Stuff kept piling up and yesterday broke the camel's back. I'm sorry I freaked out.” She sighs and casts her eyes down, feeling a blush spreading across her cheeks. While Jughead knows all about her mental health issues, she still feels a bit embarrassed whenever they resurface in the way they did the previous night. As if afraid that after everything she may still scare him away.

“Betts,” he says as he puts his finger under her chin, making her look up and meet his eyes. “In sickness and in health, right?” he asks and Betty nods, the sunken expression replaced but a tiny smile once again.

“I love you so much,” Betty whispers as she wraps her arms around Jughead's neck, pulling him closer to her.

“God, I hope you do.” Jughead laughs, pressing his forehead against hers and bringing his hand to cup her cheek, stroking it softly. “Because I'm madly in love with you.”

[friedchocolatewithpepper-blog]

Lost number of the day

Dear friend, 

I know I’m really bad keeping this blog upgraded. I had really zero motivation these last days, but today I see a sparkle of light and now, on the bed with Sora near to me thinking about all his projects, I feel grounded, in the right place at the right moment, I feel me, and it’s since a really long time that this doesn’t happen.

Nothing so special about these last days, only that yesterday I went to work for the first time since I had that panic attack, and the result is that I was at the point of having another one in front of the costumers. I decided to don’t say anything to the boss about those attacks, but then, when we set all together for dinner she asked me what was wrong, and I couldn’t say a lie.

I told her about the last panic attack, and I saw in her eyes all the love she feels for me, worried like a mother, asked me why is this happening to me. (The relation between me and my boss it’s really weird, sometimes she’s the sweetest person in the world, and sometimes she becomes like an evil, dunno), I answered that I had no idea about what could be the reason.

I went back home, got my medicine to have sweet dreams, and slept like a baby, it’s incredible how fast I fell asleep.

Step on the next day - Today

I woke up with no energy, no motivation, I just felt like a ghost. Sora went to work, and I had to prepare myself for my first session of therapy. I tried to activate myself at the moment Sora left home, but I failed and I jumped to the bed, again. When I realized was the time to put my dress on and go out I started to cry, suddenly. The reason? No idea, really no idea. 

I saw Sora’s pyjamas on the cushion, I took it immediately and I held it to me. There still was his smell, my tears didn’t want to stop, indeed they became more. I missed him so much, and that’s crazy because at that moment he left home just one hour ago. I went in front of the mirror, and I started watching my face without recognizing me. Time was going on, so with the tears falling down from my face I finished preparing myself and got out of the home. 

The therapist’s studio was a little bit far from my place, so I had to take the bus to get there. When I got the bus, crowded with people, I thought I couldn’t resist there. So I took my earphones and tried to get calm with some music. The rain was really heavy, the bus passed by the river and I saw it on the verge of overflowing. When I finally got off from that no air bus I took a big and deep breath and knocked at the door of the therapist. 

He took me to the waiting room, I pretty liked that place, more than a studio it looked like a house, cozy and comfortable.

I took a look around me when my attention was taken by some pictures hanging on the walls, they were colourful with animals built up from geometrical figures. When I started to get the hidden messages of those paintings was already time to enter “the room” with him.

As therapists always do, he first asked me “why do you think you need my help”, I started telling about my story, in particular about my family and both of my ex. 

I immediately cried, maybe for the happiness of talking with someone that can really help me, maybe for all the stress that made me stuck, maybe for the pain of thinking about such sad memories. 

But, I suddenly changed light when he told me “so you’re a person that throws herself completely when she’s into something, give me some examples”, I started talking about the school, all that list of sports that I started to never carry them out, and love, my big and great love for Sora.

Because he’s a person with incredible energy that easily takes my motivation on the highest level. He always studies something, not because he has to do it but because he wants to do it. I really admire him. 

To study, this must be a big keyword for me and my life. I need information, I’m a really curious type, in love with knowledge. This is something I have to work on.

It’s kind of fun the way the therapist described my anxiety and my panic attacks, he defined them as software bugs. And it seems that the reason must be really complex and hidden in my deepest inner self, it will take a little bit of time (and money) to untangle this tangle.

The hints he gave me are simple, basically, I’m scared of panic attacks because I’m scared of losing my control. So let’s make my body and my mind like a closet full of symptoms, and now we want to organize everything in boxes. When a person affected with anxiety feels a little bit of pain in the chest, he will immediately put it in the “panic attack” box, also, when he feels a little bit of pain on the left arm, he will put it too in the “panic attack” box, and so goes on until the box will explode, with a real panic attack. Simple, right? And what we are going to do is to reorganize this closet differently. For example, from today if I feel some pain on the chest I won’t put it anymore in the “panic attack” box, but instead, I will put it in the “low blood pressure” box, (I swear it is not just an excuse to eat some chocolate), also if it becomes difficult to breath, I will put this symptom on the “You’re just tired” box.

At this moment is important to me to give a specifical classification for each symptom that I feel, doing this I can teach my brain how to organize normal and everyday things smartly without falling in panic again.

I feel really grateful to my therapist helping me, to Sora that sustains me even in the hardest moments, and even to myself for deciding to start this healing path.

16th November 2019

[cosmosogler]

hey nerds! it’s 10:48!!! time to die!!!!!

this week there aren’t labs because homecoming means we have a day off on friday (???). so i slept in until 8:20 and didn’t miss anything! i had a pokey morning and then i biked in and got to the office around 10:45-ish. then i wasted time dicking around with harrison and playing pokemon until other people arrived. i had some lunch and then at 1:00 i actually got started on my quantum assignment. i worked until 3 and then i went to see my e&m professor. he made me wait 35 minutes to see him.

then he basically told me i did badly on the test for 25 minutes straight and i had no opportunity to try to move the conversation forward because he gets so mad when i interrupt him. he kept finding new ways to tell me i did badly on this test and he wasn’t the person to talk to about how to do better even though he was the academic advising expert in the department for 7 years but i need to look into other resources and wow, man, i just did horrible on that test! 

and he asked why i didn’t do such and such a thing over and over, and i couldn’t tell him that i DID do those things, because he kept charging forward with his suggestions. i felt like a useless lazy blob. he told me to be more proactive. 

like my brain latches on to that and is like “yeah! you suck! you should do more!!” and the other part of me says “but i did...??? this is nonsense?????” but i still feel really bad. i looked like i was gonna cry by the time i got back to the office. i scrubbed my face with my palms to try to look less miserable. 

at 4:30 we all went upstairs to celebrate the nobel peace prize being awarded to the head of a project that our department gave a lot of help to. we hung out and ate cake for like an hour and a half. most of my classmates had at least one glass of wine.

a few things happened at the party that i would like to note but i am not sure what to think of them quite yet. i have thoughts but not complete ones.

jennica and the others were talking and she said i was “sweet.” i kind of frowned and asked if that was true. she said yeah and when i asked keegan and harrison about it later they both agreed. keegan described it as “you are the wholesome memes of the department.” 

my first thought is “i’m not sweet! i’m edgy.” but thinking about it i guess there’s worse niches for me to fill in a social circle. 

the other thing that happened was i got interrupted constantly for the entire hour after the lecture. i had to start one story over more than 6 times (i stopped keeping count) and i didn’t even ever get past the first sentence before everyone left. i joked to keegan later that i didn’t get to finish even one story that whole social event. he looked kinda guilty but also i got interrupted again after that. 

i dunno. maybe i talk too much. maybe i talk about myself too much. i think the stories are great and not necessarily about myself (just things i was present for) but maybe i tell them bad. i know sitting through one of jennica’s stories is agonizing with all the asides and losing the plot and changing details halfway through a thought. but i thought i told stories pretty well. i don’t know any more.

after that i diddled around in the office while my classmates went to their extra e&m lecture. i had some dinner and studied study strategies. i never did find recommendations for “multi modal” learning preferences. just one of the four as a specialty. i guess i have to figure out how to mix them up myself. 

tomorrow is my first group therapy session. i saw on my planner. kind of concerned about that... i think i talked about it a little yesterday. not sure how much it’ll help now that it’s literally midterms.

i finished the quantum assignment with a little problem... i was having a lot of trouble finishing the questions after i reached the end of the calculations i knew how to do. suzanne said i DID finish answering the question but i feel like i didn’t quite reach what i was looking for. i helped jennica with it a bit at least even though i was having trouble making words happen out of my mouth. 

i biked home and then it was 9:15 and i made some dinner and then it was 9:45 and i did some work. i looked at the notes suzanne sent (the pdf didn’t export correctly though...? we’ll have to do some troubleshooting tomorrow) and i wrote a letter to my cousin for her wedding which i cannot attend and i took care of getting more food for snoopy and did a little more study stuff and i organized my planner for tomorrow. my to-do list is very long but it’s made up of stuff that’s not too hard to check off i think. like one is “send the letter” and another is “talk to one person in the department about their research.” i dunno.

now it’s 11:10. i am talking to keegan about whether or not i should talk less around them. 

that came out wrong.

i asked if i should dial it back. he said no. so i guess i will charge forward and get interrupted again another day.

[thelifeoflorna]

~12/9/2019~ I've felt pretty tired and drained today, and also quite #potsie again - the weather has been quite humid which is almost worse than the heat! But I think it's mainly all the build up of stress coming out in my body 👎 🦄 Finished updating my journal, then headed to therapy this morning. I felt really upset and conflicted when I went in - not knowing what to do and feeling so low. But actually, the session really did help! My therapist helped put things in perspective - she said how she had told other colleagues anonymously what has happened with regards to me and my job role (it's slightly awkward as my therapist works for the same MH Trust that I now work for and am also seen under) and they were appalled by the situation and how I've been treated - that felt validating! She gave me some really good ideas for seeking a new creative mental health related project. I don't know how, but she helped lift me out of a pit of despair. She was really impressed with how we managed to handle the thing yesterday evening when the 9/10 year old part wanted to join the receptionist and her daughter for a KFC and go home with them! 🦄 After therapy I had a bit of an update from work, and that's made things feel slightly more hopeful, but nothing set in stone yet... Went home via town, then headed back out again to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy. I then made the spontaneous decision to go to a sepsis awareness and survivor's talk at my local hospital, which I had only seen advertised on Twitter an hour before! (For those of you who don't know - I am a sepsis survivor ❤). Bus never came, so ended up missing it (buses have been awful today!) - coped well with the change to plans - maybe it wasn't meant to be! Headed to the job centre to report a change in circumstances and was reminded of what a god-awful place it is! 😂 Took myself off to Costa for a treat to recover and did some psychology notes! Once I got home on a very late bus, I've been spending the evening preparing my story ready for tomorrow - I'm telling it through a series of picture cards with my artwork on. Oh yes, and the picture above is of the full set of illustrated poems I created! 🖌 🦄 https://www.instagram.com/p/B2UtnQrnLMG/?igshid=onkbqmebk5dj

[shsl-shipper-gamer-fangirl]

Prompt: how about Miaya, Matsuda, Chihiro working on the new world program?

A/N aka what we expected from despair arc but never got. Also, I'm going to use female pronouns for Chihiro here since they're strangers who don't know any better but I will change pronouns in a different prompt.

Sequel: New Friendship In Progress

Building the New World - Gekkogahara, Matsuda, Chihiro

Behind every world were the creators that built it.

Tragedy had befallen Hope's Peak Academy and with the 'parade' raging on, there was heavy growing unrest in the hearts of everyone. The school tried to enlist all the help it could get to mitigate the crisis at hand. In a desperate effort to control the situation, they called for help from alumni and among those who stepped up was Gekkogahara. They must have thought that therapy would make these kids change their minds.

They thought it would be easy, too easy and unrealistically too fast. Therapy didn't work that way though no matter how good she was at it. However she had to admit that even she was having a difficult time handling them. Their trauma was far greater than anything she had seen before. Too great in fact. It was disturbing how it seemed as if they were brainwashed. But they weren't hopeless. She just needed to put in more effort and more time to carefully bring them back out of their despairing selves.

Or at least she tried to until one kid went ballistic and broke her laptop with no remorse. That signaled her last session for the day or for the whole week if she couldn't find a replacement laptop soon. Without a laptop, she could hardly converse with anyone. She had tried to use a phone but that would be unprofessional and it wasn't quite the same.

So she finished early that day to find an expert in electronics which shouldn't be too hard given the diversity of talents in this school. Perhaps the mechanic would do since his classroom was near enough. However before she could meet with them, she had rounded a corner too fast on her wheelchair and accidentally bumped into someone else with a different talent.

"Oh, s-sorry!" Chihiro sputtered in surprise as her eyes widened in shock when a laptop fell and broke upon their collision.

Miaya quietly stared for a long while at the laptop, a sigh was burried deep within her scarf, and for a moment, Chihiro believed she had done something unforgiveable. Chihiro stared with her mouth agape at the wreckage and felt her stomach drop at the sight. She was so focused on her mistake that she had failed to see Miaya indiscreetly fish out something from her pocket until a phone flashed in front of her.

"Are you hurt in any way?" The text read and Chihiro had to blink a couple of times to register that this was in fact happening to her.

"No, I'm f-fine. Thank you for asking." She politely replied and then solemnly turned to the broken pieces of an electronic. "But your laptop isn't..."

"It's alright. It was broken anyway." Miaya typed and held out her phone after.

"Still, I feel bad for making it worse." Chihiro's hands wavered as she hesitantly offered, "How about I fix it? I know a lot about computers. I think I can fix this... if you want me to give it a shot that is. It's okay if you don't want to. I'm just a stranger intruding but if you want, I'll get this fixed right now."

Miaya's smile spoke louder than her written text. "That would be helpful. Thank you."

And so the first brick was founded.

"You're amazing, Miss Gekkogahara!" Chihiro suddenly gushed during their conversation. "That's a great talent to have. You could help a lot of people!"

"Please, Miaya is fine." She corrected her. "Ideally, I'd like to help a lot if only people would let me."

Chihiro's face scrunched up in confusion. "Why would anyone turn you down?"

"Aside from misinformed preconceived notions about therapy?" Miaya typed at a slower pace as if she was forcing the words out from deep within. Her head drooped sullenly, miserable. If she could whisper then she would have but she couldn't so instead her fingers tapped lightly, carefully, at her phone. "It's because I don't... can't talk." She paused just to give herself breath. "It's harder to connect with someone who doesn't sound like an actual person."

"Oh... that's too bad." Chihiro said, unsure if there was anything else she could say to that. She stared at the phone still hanging limply in the air as she racked her head on words to reassure her newly found friend. And that's when she realized that she could do better than just offer words. "Let's meet up again tomorrow, okay? I'll bring your laptop then."

"Sure. Thanks again for fixing my laptop." She politely nodded and waved farewell. "See you!"

When tomorrow came, it came with more than just a laptop.

Miaya was literally speechless but now even more so as her hands froze on the keyboard. She could not believe her ears. Tentatively, she typed in another short sentence. "Hello?" She almost reeled in her wheelchair at the voice. It sounded so normal, so natural-

It sounded just like how she imagined her voice to be.

"I hope you're happy with the voice synthesizing program I developed." There was a tinge of pride hidden in her usual layer of shyness. "It's set right now to estimate what your voice would be given your data. I sincerely hope you don't mind that I inputted information on you prior without your permission."

Miaya was still too stunned to pay heed to some breach of privacy. Actually, she couldn't care less of what Chihiro did behind her back because it surely was worth it for this. Tears pricked her eyes as joy overflowed her. Fingers were trembling in excitement and she had to hold herself back from typing gibberish. She had a voice, an actual voice, and she wanted to talk nonstop with it.

"This is amazing! I'm happy! Absolutely happy!" She was even happier when she noticed how the program had properly induced the tone that she wanted for specific sentences. Her voice was high and shouting with joy. "Thank you, Chihiro! This is the best!"

"I'm glad to help a friend in need." Chihiro smiled alongside her, a swell of pride bloomed in her chest at how happy Miaya was. "Oh, by the way. That's just the default setting. You can still adjust it to have a different sounding voice if you ever feel like it."

"That sounds like fun. We should try it out sometime, hehe." Miaya's voice actually giggled and it was the most pleasant laughter she had ever heard. She stole a glance at Chihiro who had made this all possible and her heart melted. Chihiro had listened to her and her problems and she had been a good friend to help her. She thought that this was nice, safe, and comforting.

More than just a voice, Miaya needed this. She didn't want to be heard, she wanted to be listened to.

Matsuda on the other hand didn't have the luxury of fun. He could care less about the "parade" or what would happen to Hope's Peak Academy but it was a useful distraction. The administration wouldn't be as nosy on his current project so long as he minimally helped every now and then. Because of this, he was able to cover up her and is currently in the process of fixing her. Or at least that's his goal. In actuality, he was only buying time until he found the right treatment.

Despite being a professional neurologist, even he had his limits. Directly tampering with the brain was just not enough, not enough for the students of the parade and not enough for her. So he needed a different approach. That had pushed him into seeking advice from another professional, specifically the ex-shsl therapist. He had observed and talked to her prior and she was capable. He had read her file and he was impressed. She might just be the alternative he needed.

Therapy has its merits and he knew that they had a bigger chance if they combined their expertise. As effective as that might be, that however would still be not enough. Therapy needed time, time that they didn't have. What they needed was a method to tap directly into the brain and cram weeks', months', years' worth of therapy among other things. He's still not sure if that would be enough for her but it was a start.

That's what motivated him as he roamed the halls in search of the therapist. When he did find her, he was surprised to see the usually shy one with company.

"Hello, Yasuke!" Miaya greeted in a natural sounding voice through speakers. She even sounded like she was smiling although it was hard to tell if she actually was due to her scarf.

He almost raised his eyebrows at her. Well that's new but it's not like he cared for her upgrades. He nodded curtly and then his eyes turned to the other person. "And who might this be?"

"Um, p-pleased to meet you. I'm Chihiro Fujisaki." She stammered, obviously intimidated by his cold front. "SHSL Programmer. A freshman."

"Yasuke Matsuda." He acknowledged. "Upperclassman." He said and quickly returned his attention to his original target. "If you're free right now then I'd like to discuss a few more things in detail."

"Oh, that's right. We didn't get to finish our findings yesterday." Miaya spoke and Yasuke was about to head out now that she had agreed but she didn't. She held her place instead and with an unexpected confidence she suggested, "I was thinking maybe we could enlist Chihiro's help."

His eyes almost twitched in annoyance. Great, more chatter. He hoped that this was not just a waste of his valuable time. "Is that a proposal?" He narrowed his eyes at the freshman.

Chihiro was close to flinching at the intensity of his glare but with Miaya supporting her, she stood her ground as best as she could. "Um, pardon me for intruding but if there's anything I could help you with then I'd be more than willing to help." She took another breath first before continuing, "I don't like the way things are. I want them to change. I want to make a difference."

In all honesty, Yasuke could care less about this kid's ideologies. The only reason why he hadn't walked out on them yet was because of this kid's talent.

"This is a confidential project." He sneered at her.

"Oh..." Chihiro frowned at his implications. "I guess I'm no good after all, huh..."

"Don't go putting words into my mouth." He scowled and then flicked at her forehead. "Clear your schedule right now. We're brainstorming."

Chihiro instantly beamed and followed. "Yes!"

"Is that a neurologist joke?" Miaya teased with a giggle.

"Shut up." He barked and as he stalked towards his lab, he heard the two laughing closely behind.

Before the dawn of a new world (program) was the beginning of a friendship.

[gaiatheorist]

Choices, behaviours, consequences.

The latest stop on my voyage around the NHS Mental Health service has wiped me out. I’ve dumped myself into one of my self-judgemental phases, and I need to haul myself out, because it’s making me physically ill, when I’m already emotionally fragile. I don’t have the capacity to deal with both-at-once, on top of all the pre-existing conditions. I’m allowing myself one rabbit-hole, then I’ll either ‘post’ or ‘close.’

Choice- I have the choice to ruminate in fragmented snatches about the therapeutic pathway I’m being allocated onto, or purge it all in one go, and ‘close the box’.

Behaviours- I’ve had a couple of days (my concept of day/night is as skewed as everything else) of having intrusive snatches of “That’s not MY fault!” and “That’s a useful behaviour, I want to keep that bit.” It’s not productive, but ‘blocking’ emotional responses is what I need to work on. (Badly phrased, I need to work on stopping-blocking, and learn to do the whole ‘mindful/in the moment’ thing. I can’t do that on my own, that’s what the therapy is going to teach me to do.) 

Consequences- A fair old chunk of self-loathing, and a few spikes of “I’m not changing THAT!” I’ll ‘make this worse before I make it better’ by typing this, but, for now, rules/routine are my least-harmful coping strategy. My pretend-rule of ‘once I type it, it is done’ might well be a strategy the therapist advises, or not, the old ‘diarising/mood-journal’ thing, for now, it’s all I have.

The choices/behaviour/consequence tag is borrowed from a behaviour policy implemented at the school I used to work in. “If you choose to continue with behaviour ‘x’, you are choosing consequence ‘y’.” Logical, linear, rational, which worked with the students who understood the concept, but not the students who didn’t feel that their behaviour was a choice. That’s where I find myself, like a twelve-year-old having a screaming meltdown in a maths class because everything-is-awful, and now there’s algebra in it as well. 

That’s a difficult admission. When I’m focused on something, it doesn’t happen, when my mind is engaged, there’s less capacity for the disjointed thinking, and disordered behaviours. When I’m ‘in the zone’ I can be phenomenal, I haven’t had a zone of late. I’ve had two years of drifting, ironically, having ‘won’ my disability benefit, and now having the capacity to address my physical and emotional health is in-part responsible for the drift. 17 months of that two years were spent engaged in a battle with DWP. Pyrrhic victory? Possibly, I’ll need to do it all again in nine months. I’ll still have brain injuries, but I might have had some therapy for the Mental Health side of things. (Externalising, raging against the machine, there. The systems are atrocious, though.) This distracted-drifting phase isn’t good for me, and there’s only so much of it I can fill with free OU courses. 

There are two prongs to that difficult admission. I ‘caught myself’ showing off yesterday, that’s one of my behaviours. I was plodding through an OU course on juvenile delinquency, and my notes for section 3.3 turned out to be a more condensed version of section 3.4. Look at me, aren’t I clever? No, not especially, it was an introductory level course on a subject I already have some broad awareness of. I was almost-but-not-quite that gobby kid in the classroom, who kicks off with “We’ve already done this!” during a revision class. Slightly more self-aware than I was when I was at school, I chose to expand-out on my knowledge, rather than dismiss it as baby-work. (I very clearly remember the Special Needs teacher assessing me when I moved schools, “Miss, I’ve finished.” “Well done, now turn over the page and do the next sheet.” “Miss, I’ve done all of the sheets.” That was repeated with last year’s neuro-psych assessment, but in reverse. “I don’t know.” “Would you like me to repeat the question.” “No, repeating the question won’t help, I still won’t be able to calculate the answer, the numbers are 3, 8, and 4, I just don’t know how to move them around.”) 

That one is a learned behaviour, the educational system taught me that ‘being intelligent’ was rewarded, taught me to crow-when-I-know, and I’ve built that into my weird defensive mechanisms, trying to ‘prove’ I’m clever. Sometimes I’m unkind with it, my delusions of grandeur are going to have to go. Sometimes I’ll argue for the sake of it, not so much now, because I expose myself to fewer people to argue with. Sometimes, I’ll get an idea into my head, and refuse to back down, my patented tactic of “Other people will eventually agree, just to get me to shut up.” 

The MH assessment was horrible on many fronts, I think that the one that has hit hardest is acknowledging that I’m not as intelligent as I like to project. “Did you use any of the strategies your last counsellor gave you?” “Not really, they were strategies I already knew, from being a Learning Mentor. I didn’t think that the sort of thing I’d teach a 13-year-old was appropriate.” (I bloody hate worksheets, long-standing issue with generic strategies for individual issues.) “Maybe that foundation level is where you need to start from.” She might as well have punched me in the guts, that winded-wounded me, but she’s right, ‘knowing’ something is not the same as ‘doing’ it, I’ve been ‘acting clever’ for most of my life. I was acutely aware of my tendency to ‘shout out the answer’ during the group-work I had to do to access further intervention. (Now chuckling at the time I whacked myself in the face with a rolling-pin after my brother’s ex and I imposed a rule that only the person holding the rolling-pin could speak, we were both babblers.) I wasn’t fully engaged with the course, because I was consciously suppressing my urge to act-up, show-off, be-clever. 

My Dad told me I was stupid, ugly, weak. My ex compounded that, by belittling me at every opportunity. I stopped speaking to them both, because I’m Little-Miss-Can’t-Be-Wrong, but now a qualified mental health doctor has very gently pointed out that I’m not-all-that. I am undone. (I did have a really unpleasant period of wondering whether there was any point existing if I couldn’t be ‘that’, but, if I can’t be ‘that’, I’ll just have to be something else.)  

Cognitive Analytic Therapy. A sixteen-session course of relational therapy, 1:1 with a therapist, where we’ll pick apart my disordered thinking, and work on re-routing it. Learned behaviours can be un-learned, right? I’ve had my two days of don’t-want-to stompy tantrum, and accepted that I cannot be a smart-arse about this. I need to go in with an open mind, and not roll my eyes when the crayons come out. (There will be crayons, there’s a ‘mapping’ exercise, which ISN’T the same as the one I did in RE in secondary school, thank you very much, dismissive-superiority-complex head.) I’ve always had disordered thinking, and now I have a damaged brain as well, I could ‘cope’ with the cognitive tangents when my brain was intact, with a variety of maladaptive strategies. It’s going to be a case of taking guidance on what I need to let go of, Marie Kondo for my mind. I need to not obsessively cling to my security blanket of weird, the therapist is not going to ‘take’ the fundamental essence of me away, they’re going to help me to make it more functional. 

I don’t ‘have to’ be an Instagram-Stepford-wife, nobody is going to force me to take up kitten-plaiting and cake-decorating, but I will have to relinquish some of my control-behaviours. I will have to accept that parrot-repeating a theory is not the same as understanding and applying it, and that I can’t continue deflecting intense emotions with my bizarre tool-kit of avoidance tactics. I give lip-service to the notion of recognise-reflect-respond, but tend to skip the ‘reflect’ stage, and ‘respond’ by putting the emotion on the ‘things to deal with later’ pile. They’re not going to try to make me into something I’m not, some of my coping mechanisms are acceptable, and you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. 

Onwards. I have the referral for the CAT, which I acknowledge that I need. I have a referral to the MH social prescribing team, which will probably come through first, a holding-strategy of day-centres that probably smell funny, and ‘little bits of voluntary work.’ I’ve also requested a formal diagnosis, I need an official name for ‘this’, apparently I shouldn’t use ‘Complex PTSD’ due to the absence of flashbacks and nightmares about the original abuse, I was too tired to mention the panic attacks and nightmares I have about the more-recent compounding factors. I’m moving forwards, and I have to seek-and-follow, because I can’t untangle this mess on my own. Every time I’ve tried to put myself back together, I’ve followed my usual DIY practice of deciding not to put ALL the screws back in, because it’ll be easier to access the next time it breaks. It’s not going to be a quick fix, but at least it’s not medication, I was able to articulate that the ‘Prozac fog’ on top of the brain injuries posed a risk of self-neglect. (Smirking, that my adorable GP knows me well enough to keep prescribing enough medication to kill a small horse, he knows I’m going nowhere along the overdose route.) 

I don’t know whether the therapy or diagnosis will happen before my disability benefit comes up for review. I do suspect that DWP will attempt to declare me fit-for-work regardless of whether anything has changed, so I’ll just have to deal with that when it happens, and not rabbit-hole myself about how the punitive-scrutiny of the DWP systems and processes are part of the reason I need help. I was damaged before the brain haemorrhage, before the separation from the ex, before the kid going away to uni, before I lost my job, and had to throw myself on the mercy of state benefits, it’s the cumulative toll of all-of-it that’s tipped me. Saying “That happened, accept it and move on.” isn’t actually accepting, it’s deflecting, and I can’t keep doing that. 

[cosmosogler]

all things considered this evening was fantastic. i won a bottle cap in the lottery (after winning a gold one the other day AND a master ball yesterday), i listened to two episodes of the adventure zone, AND the pokemon competition sign-ups opened again so i registered right away.

i even got up more or less on time. i slept in a little bit... just until 9:40. i took off some of the surgical tape while i was in the shower and found the incisions were a lot smaller than i thought they would be. they haven’t healed fully yet but i don’t think the tape was going to be much help at this point anyway. and it’s been way longer than the 10 day period i was supposed to keep them on.

i left the three strips of tape covering my bellybutton on because when i see the small puddle of blood that they picked up i figure that cut is either a lot deeper than the others, or that part of your abdomen is just really bloody? since the tape hadn’t even loosened up over that area i just left it alone. i managed to scrub off a lot more of the bandage residue too. now i just look like i got poked really hard in a couple places. with a knife.

as i wrote earlier i asked dad if he wanted thai food for lunch. over an hour after i asked he started yelling for me and asked where i’d been and if i wanted to go or not. i told him i’d been waiting for him and he acted like it was my responsibility to just... come down and check in on time every ten minutes until he wanted to leave or something? 

so we went out for thai. even though elton john was on the radio i was pretty hurried about putting my headphones in to project more closed-offness so maybe that would discourage dad from trying to talk about politics with me. i guess it worked because he didn’t say anything going there or coming back except to talk about how i was handling the food.

i got super sick but i’m not gonna let that stop me. for a bit during the car ride i thought about deliberately keeping information from people and how weird it felt. over the years my silence has gone from “i have a reason not to say this” to “i don’t have a reason to say this.” i guess that makes it wayyyyy easier to keep secrets. 

maybe that’s part of what is taking up all my mental energy. keeping which people i’m not telling what information straight is a hassle but i can’t not do it. 

i was kinda bummed because i asked for my dish to be “between mild and medium” since they don’t have the 5-scale at that restaurant, but the chef must have thought i was a baby or something because there was no spice at all in neither the soup nor my noodles. i felt kinda bad about asking them to water down their dish so much, and it really didn’t taste as complete without the spice. the soup was kinda sour and since it didn’t have any bite it came off as salty. it was still really good with the lemongrass and stuff but i miss eating spicy things so much already. 

i guess it feels, like, almost inappropriate to ask a family-owned place like that to make their dish bland. it bothered me even though i am physically incapable of eating spicy food for at least a few more days/weeks and i just like their food so much. getting sick was totally worth it at least.

going full “hot” level is always too much for me to handle but i feel like maybe if i burn myself on my food enough times i’ll start building a tolerance for it. i handle most mexican food just fine.

anyway, eve has made some headway on chewing through her bandage. not a lot of headway, but i noticed the tape we had held the gauze together with is broken in a lot of places. enough that the gauze has come unraveled around her ankle. it’s already gotten so dirty from her walking around the yard and stuff that i’m not sure re-wrapping it would be a good idea. the wounds on her leg are kind of exposed and i don’t want to get them dirty at all.

tomorrow i’m gonna try to drive. i got therapy in the afternoon. i haven’t taken painkillers in roughly a week now and i can bend over in most directions. and it’s well after when a normal follow-up appointment would be so i figure i should be at least mostly good to go.

god though the adventure zone is so funny. i love it. i hope i can find something idle enough to do while i listen to it in the future. i’ve fished up so many bottle caps... i only need two more and i’ll have all of my *new* pokemon hyper trained. like, the shinies i had in other generations that i just couldn’t use because their stats sucked. i have a shiny altaria from my brother’s game. it’s named “churpy”.

i may require luis or eric’s aid soon. several pokemon without nicknames running around in my boxes now.

is this what... being in a good mood feels like? that is a lot of power. i’m not sure what to do with all this strange experience. it’s not that... i’m feeling physically great. my body is still telling me “there’s a giant hole where the gallbladder used to be and i don’t like it.” still not looking forward to the future or studying much physics. but... i don’t really feel particularly bad about anything?? i mostly just feel kind of sleepy. and look at that, it’s 12:30! i could go to bed at my ACTUAL BEDTIME for once. and even GET UP ON TIME!!!

i should start moving my sleep schedule up a little bit. i gotta get up for eve’s surgery on friday around 7 at the latest. i’m not gonna... not go with her. that would be really confusing and scary. if i wasn’t there to greet her and sit in the car with her after something this major.

here’s what i’m gonna do. on thursday i’m gonna see about downloading a couple episodes of the adventure zone or something. maybe on itunes, i have a gift card floating around my desk area somewhere. then i will sit in the waiting room at the office and listen to the podcast and try very hard not to laugh while waiting with other people and their sick pets.

i mean... what else am i gonna do. worst case scenario i could bring super mystery dungeon and try to play that, though toward the last few missions there my reactions were getting a little heated. they were really hard and depended a lot on the rng. but it wasn’t easy to get to the random part so you usually just end up wasting a lot of time.

it’s good to have options. i still haven’t thought about what i would like to talk with my therapist about. maybe just preparing for the move i guess. i wanted to have a few topics to “wrap up” in the next two sessions before i leave. but so much of my life the last eight months has been kind of just surviving day to day. it’s hard to pick out a theme to focus on. 

there’s not much more i can do to address my reservations about meeting my new classmates. i know that they will probably be fine to talk to and get along with but working with them will drain my confidence hardcore. i guess in that case i could talk a bit about impostor syndrome. taylor and i talked about it a little bit at my party on saturday. but it was more of a “haha i know the feel” sort of conversation than a “how do i solve this problem” one. 

one thing i could do to make myself more comfortable going in is to spend some time looking at the city on google maps and stuff. i won’t be able to do much with addresses but knowing the layout and things that are generally close to or reachable from my apartment complex might be helpful. and i could look at some more physics materials. i don’t think i’m quite at the “practice problem” point yet but... the only way to get there is to keep trying. i’ll do some of that in the morning. taz podcasts are more of an evening deal.

and, of course, i always have the rest of the self esteem modules i didn’t finish. coulddddddd be helpful to put more work into that. 

i also told mother that if it was still muggy and not death hot outside tomorrow i would take wiley for a walk. he’s been super restless the last few days. and he gets overheated when he’s got too much energy in the morning or evening and won’t stop running.

ok. battle plan. a little pressure, but not too much pressure. i will consult this entry in the morning and try to get some of those things worked on.