#I've been working 3 stressful jobs for two years and its caught up to me

[theprissythumbelina]

Sometimes I'm actually feeling on top of things and like I'm able to keep up with everything and then I discover another thing I forgot and the whole illusion comes crashing down.

[soracities]

Your account is absolutely wonderful.. I am assuming that it takes a lot of time and dedication to absorb so much art... I find myself drifting away, always exhausted from my job... So I guess my question is what do you do for work and how do you stay inspired?

most of my time is spent child-minding and while that has left me with very little time to read and watch the things i want--and can be quite exhausting in and of itself--i think there is a little trade-off in that children keep you attentive to the world around you in a way you would not otherwise be, if only because you have to be that attentive to answer all their countless questions. so in a sense there is some inspiration i glean from that.

otherwise, i think this blog sometimes does give off the impression that i'm more well-read than i actually am; in reality, i dance on the surface of a lot of artworks but am passionate about maybe a tiny handful of works, and maybe, like, two painters. i have a "to watch" list that far exceeds my lifespan given that i actually watch, maybe, 3 movies a year. i have finished one (short) book since 2023 started and it took me six months to read that. the books that i've managed to read over the years, i've read chiefly in bursts and almost always in time periods where i was lucky enough in that i didn't have much to occupy me; even then, i'm aware i didn't read as much as i could have done with the time i had, but i'm also the kind of person who cannot devour book after book endlessly, either--i have a very clear saturation point, after which i need to do something different.

i think this blog, more than anything else, is a kind of repository of all the little fragments of thoughts or books or the world that interest and catch me and that i want to keep, but what i actually spend time with and dive into makes up an absolutely miniscule fraction of that. there have been long months (and years) where i did not have it in me to maintain any kind of sustained attention to reading or poetry, but i think the ability to do so is a huge, often unacknowledged, priviliege that requires not just time and economic security, but also mental clarity. i'm saying this to stress that what you feel, especially with whatever demands your job makes on you, is entirely normal and not anything to be ashamed of: the toll bills take, that laundry takes, that cooking and cleaning and countless other errands take are not to be underestimated when you go into them already sapped of most of your reserves in the first place.

it's something i've felt quite often (and still do); carving out the time to read as much or as often as i would like to does require dedication which i do not always have the energy for. but i think for me, to answer your question regarding inspiration, especially during the times when i'm not reading anything, inspiration is in paying as much attention as i can to the world around me, no matter how tiny the details are. there's a quote by william stafford where he talks about the ability to have "one vivid morning" and then "chain myself to it for fifty years". i don't have any set "philosophy" on life, but that is one thing i have always lived by: i still remember a single razor of light i saw on the railway tracks one morning a year ago which caught me by surprise, or the time on the bus when the setting sun filled the top deck and i knew then by the colour of it that summer was coming, or when i got up close to a patch of damp moss to see all its tiny little hairs more clearly, or one afternoon five years or so ago when i bought some loose pears from a corner shop and they were the sweetest, most-melt-in-the-mouth-juiciest pears i'd ever had....i can obsess over the light through a window over and over and over again no matter how often i see it. my mother put some lilies in a vase in the living room a few weeks ago and the entire time i was enraptured with how the scent hit me everytime i'd come into that room. even after more than a week they still enraptured me; each time was like i discovered them all over again and that brightened my mood so immeasurably.

for me inspiration is chiefly about recognizing the things that bring me joy and then holding them as closely as i can. there's a game i've started playing if i'm on a long bus trip where i take the number of a random bus stop i pass and if it's lower than 2020 i google what events happened in that year and pick the one that interests me most: if i'm going to be on my phone anyway, i will be on it in a way that aligns with what i already enjoy (FACTS!) and won't drain me (social media). when i don't have the energy to finish or even pick up a book, i'm subscribed to sites like Aeon, Ordinary Plots, Diaries of Note, or grieftolight on instagram (shoutout to forever beloved @firstfullmoon doing the lord's work with that account, truly), or podcasts i like, which allow me to read or experience little bits and pieces here and there without the pressure or anxiety-inducing commitment. if there is a poem i love i try to spend as much time with it as i can, which often just takes the form of me writing it down (by hand, usually-- that part is important) into a ledger of poems i keep which i can return to whenever i want, underlining my favourite parts or just rereading what spoke to me (i also love going to exhibits or museums (which, luckily, are mostly free where i live) or taking note of all the random bits of street art i see)

a year or so ago i also started, and this has changed my life, to copy down some of my favourite quotes i've reblogged onto little cue cards and stick them on the wall by my bed. some are poems, some are bits of novels or scraps of philosophy, some are motivational tidbits, but all of them are things i want to be reminded of. it helps me remember the lines i most want to keep and also grounds me in an odd way, but more than that, it just makes me happy. if i'm doom-scrolling, or having a rough evening, i can turn to that wall and read the things that mean most to me.

i don't know if any of this helps, and i'm conscious of not putting these out there as a cure-all because i'm very aware of how quickly, and how easily, this society and its set-up can drain you. i am, though, a staunch proponent of approaching art (any kind) and your engagement with it from a place and a pace that is true to you, before anything else, and that includes taking into account your own circumstances and what would bring you the most enjoyment within the means you have available to you: sometimes that's a 20 minute radio interview about blackholes, sometimes it's counting how many birds you pass as you walk through the park, sometimes it's 150 page novella it takes you half a year to finish. whatever it may look like, center your own pleasure first. i hope this can give you something, anon ♡

[rascalentertainments]

Heya Rascal!! Gonna shoot you with the question laser beam now >:3

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

1. What songs do you think best suits each character?

2. Is WG!Star the first ever Wishing Star or just the first one to come down to Earth? Are there others like him?

3. Are we gonna see the 7 teens as a group or one by one? What’s their role in the story and do they have any jobs?

4. How did the Royal Couple come to adopt Sabor?

5. What if I tell you that there’s going to be an RFTS!Flazino to accompany yours? ;) He won’t have much of a big role like yours but he exists~

This is all I could think of at the moment. Might ask more later on. Hugs from me ^^

Hey there! I'm ready for your question beam! 😂

Let's see, for Asha it would be "How Far I'll Go" and "Ready as I'll Ever Be" for the passion for her family and wanting to fight back. Star would be "What a Wonderful World" and "Out There". the Royal Couple would have "Evil Love" and "They're Only Human" The rest of the character songs are a work in progress!

Oooo, I've been waiting for a question for that! The Wishing Star is a legend amongst the stars, always hearing rumors about one granting wishes for not just humans that wish upon them....but also other stars. So the idea is that Star is the first star nomad to come down to Earth, but he must ask: can he really stay here with Asha? The others do have the potential to do the same, but no one else has had the drive to actually go down there amongst the humans. (Star's cousin wanted to meet the dinosaurs and other animals, but that's about it). The biggest thing that helped him get to Earth is in fact Asha's spirit. However, by the end of the story, the people will have a Wishing Star to call on.

3. The 7 Teens will be introduced one by one, and end up coming together as a group when they need to help Asha save Rosas and the people. Each of them play their role by knowing the inner workings of Rosas, like Flazino. Asha hasn't been in Rosas' in years so she doesn't remember anything about how to navigate there. The biggest helps from the Teens would be Dhalia, Simon and Dario. About 5/7 of them have jobs. Gabo is more of the city's conspiracy theorist that the rulers are evil, but since no one believes him, the rulers don't seem as a threat and brush it off. Dario is a self proclaimed comedian/actor trying to cheer up the wish deprived citizens from looking depressed. Its not much progress, but he tries.

4. They actually found him during their journey to Rosas. They traveled around the world finding other spellbooks and texts from other countries, so upon reaching the Ibreian Peninsula, Amaya found Sabor as a cub he seemed to be alone and his mother was nowhere to found (presumably hunted). Amaya couldn't bare to see him be helpless so she took him in, raised him to be a cunning and hunting feline she knew he could be, but also have a royal presence and strike fear into people without raising a paw. Sabor considers Amaya his mother, but Mags is just extra at most to him.

5. OH COOL! That would be awesome, since I've only seen him be used in one other story. I'm curious how RFTS!Flazino would interact with WG!Flazino, since the latter has a lot on his plate trying not to get caught or killed working for two narcissistic rulers. He's so stressed out...😂 (I'll be showing his design sometime next month!)

That was so fun! Thanks, @flicklikesstuff for the great questions and hugs! Sending love your way too! 😉

[sour--disposition]

Lover of Mine

-

jj olatunji x fem!reader

-

a/n: i started listening to 5sos again after like 3 years (thanks amy xx) and lover of mine makes me sob, so here we go

(gif from the lovely @sdmngifs​)

“Hope and I pray - Darling, that you will stay - Butterfly lies - Chase them away”

Of course you knew who JJ was when you’d first met him; despite what your friends thought, you didn’t actually live under a rock. You’d had no choice but to get to know him when two of your closest friends had attracted the attention of Ethan and Harry on a night out and spent the rest of the evening in the club with them.

You watched from the other side of the table as your friends flirted shamelessly. Hair twirling around fingers, teeth gliding over glossed lips… it was shambolic. “Let’s go for a girls night, they said. It will be so fun, they said”, you deadpan.

“Oh so this is a girls night”, JJ exclaimed, bursting out into laughter. “That’s cold, man”, he chuckled. “Come on, drinks on me”, he winked, taking your hand and leading you to the bar to pick up the next round for the table.

You’d spent the night chatting with JJ, occasionally dipping in and out of conversation with his friends and their girlfriends. It wasn’t until you’d turned to tell your friends that the next round was on you that you realised they’d left.

“The girls with Behz and Bog?”, Simon asked you. JJ nodded for you, knowing you didn’t know their names. “They all left about a half hour ago I think”, he told you sympathetically.

“Charming”, you scoffed, starting to gather your things, ready to call it a night. JJ took your hand before you could stand, though, leaning in close to speak to you.

“Fancy a nightcap?”, he asked.

Your immediate reaction was to say no. This famous youtube star come rapper come boxer would probably only want one thing from you, and you weren’t after that. But, how could you judge him, you’d only known him 3 hours. So, against what might have been your better judgement, you found yourself nodding and agreeing.

“Bailey’s?”, he asked once you’d entered his apartment, leading you over to the kitchen. You nodded, following him and watching as he poured out the two drinks. JJ knocked your glasses together gently before taking a sip.

You’d gone home that night with a big smile on your face and a new number nestled into your contacts, under JJ’s name. You still had your reservations about JJ, you’d only known him a few hours, after all. But deep down, you hoped that whatever you had could grow into something beautiful.

-

Being with JJ was daunting. He had a massive, devoted fan base, a successful career not in one, but three different industries… And you were you. The niggling, self-sabotaging voice in your head always reminded you that JJ could do better, that no matter how good of a person he was, he would get bored of you. It took a lot to ignore the thoughts, the feelings that haunted you in the dark nights on your own.

JJ would remind you until he was blue in the face, if he had to, that he wouldn’t stay just to humour you. He’d often joke that he was too busy to waste his time on someone that he didn’t think was worth it in the long run, but by the way he held you in the dark nights that you shared, you knew that there was at least some truth to that.

“I'll never give you away - 'Cause I've already made - Already made that mistake” 

The honeymoon phase with JJ was a whirlwind. Fancy dinner dates sat across from JJ, tight white shirt pulled across his biceps; nights out with his friends, tucked under his arm so he could proudly show you off; dancing around the living room on JJ’s toes at all hours of the night.

And then JJ had music deadlines coming up, music videos to film, Sidemen videos to film… It wasn’t strange to not hear from JJ for days at a time. You tried not to worry, JJ had never given you reason to worry in the past. But there were only so many rain-checks you could take without starting to doubt your relationship. You felt guilty, how could you not. JJ was working, doing his job… You knew all of this when you entered a relationship with him.

Things were starting to look up, though. You were in an Uber on the way to JJ’s, meeting him there for your first evening out together in well over a month. You were dressed reasonably for the occasion, jeans, nice top and some heeled boots. You were excited for a few hours of JJ’s undivided attention, time for you and him to just catch up and be a normal couple again.

You knocked on the door of the apartment, surprised when Simon opened the door to you. “Y/N?”, he asked, confused.

“I’m meeting JJ here before we go out”, you told him. Simon’s face twisted into a look of guilt and remorse. “He isn’t here, is he?”, you asked, eyes dropping to the floor.

“Come wait inside, yeah? He’s probably stuck in traffic”, Simon offered, moving back to let you step into the apartment. You thanked him, following him in, pulling your shoes off before walking over to the sofa. “You good?”, Simon asked, not walking back down to his office until you’d given him a nod.

You sent JJ a text, letting him know that you were probably early, but you were at the apartment. You pulled your feet up onto the sofa, getting yourself comfortable. You let yourself get lost in a cocktail of Youtube, Twitter and TikTok. You didn’t realise how long you’d been sat there until the low battery notification popped up on your phone. Your eyes flicked to the clock on your screen. 10pm. You’d been sitting there for 4 hours.

You rolled your neck before standing up, grimacing at the pops and cracks of your stiff joints. You walk down to Simon’s office, knocking on the door. “I’m off home”, you told him, popping your head around the door. Simon turned to you, seeming shocked that you were still there.

“It’s late. Just stay, I’m not letting you go home through the middle of London on your own”, he told you. You hesitated before nodding, wishing Simon goodnight and taking yourself off to JJ’s room. You grabbed a t-shirt out of one of JJ’s drawers, heading to the bathroom to get changed and take your make-up off.

It wasn’t until you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, fully made up and ready for your date, that you started to cry. You sat on the side of the bath, head hung in your hands, as you let out full bodied sobs. This is what you were worried about, this is what JJ told you wouldn’t happen. Cancelling and rescheduling dates was one thing, but completely ignoring you and standing you up… You were heartbroken. 

You scrubbed your make up off, throwing your hair into a bun on your head and changing into JJ’s shirt. You padded out to the kitchen, on a mission to make yourself a cup of tea. “You want a tea?”, Simon called when he heard you walking over.

“Please”, you said, voice small and watery. He smiled sympathetically at you. You must have made quite the sight, messy hair, tear tracks running down your face and an oversized t-shirt skirting around your thighs. You leant against the wall, staying out of the way as Simon moved around the kitchen. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”, he asked you worriedly as he handed you your mug. 

“I will be. I just need some sleep, I think”, you told him, like your heart wasn’t tearing its way out of your chest as you spoke. You slumped off back to JJ’s room, crawling into bed and wrapping yourself in the duvet. You finished your tea, staring blankly at the wall opposite you, discarding the mug on the side table as soon as you were done.

 A fresh wave of tears started when you reached over to plug your phone in. You stayed at JJ’s that often that he’d bought you a charger so you didn’t have to worry about forgetting it. It seemed like something so trivial to cry over, but you couldn’t help it. That was the JJ you knew, JJ who bought you a phone charger so you had even less of an excuse not to stay over, JJ who bought your favourite brand of tea bags even though he knew you’d drink anything. Not this JJ, JJ who blew you off and stood you up.

 You hadn’t even bothered to shut the blinds, so you fell asleep staring out of the window, watching the lights of London’s skyline flicker and dance along the night sky.

-

You awoke to a sharp hiss and the other side of the bed dipping down. You looked over your shoulder, seeing JJ fumbling around in the dark. He looked over to you, face dropping with guilt. He opened his mouth to say something, but you simply turned over, tucking the duvet tighter under your chin.

 “I’m sorry”, JJ said behind you. “I know it’s not a good excuse, but time got away from me. We were writing and recording and next thing I know the producers started packing up, saying it was too late to do anything else”.

 He sounded genuinely apologetic and part of you wanted to roll over and let him take you into his arms and hold you until you forgave him. But a bigger part of you, an arguably pettier part of you, wanted him to suffer. You’d had to sit with no answer for hours, it was his turn now.

 JJ seemed to understand what your lack of answer meant. He quickly got changed and got ready for bed, sliding in next to you wordlessly. It took effort not to turn and wrap an arm or a leg around him like you usually would. “Night, Y/N”, JJ whispered into the dark of the room before shutting his eyes and willing himself to sleep.

 You awoke the next morning to JJ trying to bring a tray into the bedroom. You couldn’t help but giggle at the look of concentration cemented onto his face, tongue poking over his lip as his eyes stayed trained on the contents of the tray. “Good, you’re up”, he smiled once he’d rested the tray on the bed.

 “What’s this?”, you asked, shuffling yourself so you were sitting upright against the headboard.

 “An apology. I was a cunt last night. You don’t deserve that”, JJ started, perching himself next to you. “I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up. I’m so, so sorry”, he stressed, reaching over to take your hand in his. “I got tunnel vision with work. I shouldn’t have cancelled so much shit. Fuck”, he sighed.

 “Just promise you’ll try and make sure it doesn’t happen again?”, you asked, rubbing your thumb over the veins in JJ’s hand.

 “I promise. And if it does, just tell me. Tell me I’m being a cunt until I listen to you, okay?”, he said, smiling when you laughed and nodded. “Good”, he whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you in and press a kiss to your temple.

“When I take a look at my life - And all of my crimes - You're the only thing that I think I got I right”

 Your arm was looped with Talia’s as you walked into the club where JJ’s release party was being held. Banners decorated in album art were draped around the top of the club, lights of all different colours bouncing off of the pictures of JJ’s face. Talia led you over to the cordoned off VIP area of the club.

 “Restricted access”, the man said, voice low and gruff. 

 “We should be on the list. Talia and Y/N”, Talia told him politely. He checked his list against your IDs before lifting the rope and letting you through. “Drinks. C’mon”, she urged, pulling your arm and dragging you over to the bar.

 Once you’d both got a drink in hand, you walked over to find JJ. “Hello, Mister”, you smiled, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Congratulations”, you whispered. JJ just rolled his eyes lovingly before introducing you to Randolph and S-X. “It’s great to finally meet you both, JJ’s said great things”, you beamed, reaching out to shake both of their hands.

JJ excused himself to go and talk to some official people regarding the party and the album itself, leaving you with a soft press of a kiss to your forehead. “Love you”, he murmured quietly, before walking off into the swarm of people.

 You spoke to Randolph and S-X for a few minutes before excusing yourself to go and find Talia, Freya and the boys. “Y/N!”, Freya called when she saw you. “You look amazing!”, she gushed, reaching out to pull you into a hug. 

“So do you, Frey”, you told her, holding her tight. You’d only just sat down next to her when JJ came up beside you, resting his arm on your shoulder. 

“Are you wanting to sit down?”, you asked him, smiling up at him.

“Just wondered if you want another drink before I do, me and Simon are going for another round”, he told you. You nodded, squeezing his fingers quickly before he left. You jumped straight back into your conversation with Freya, Talia joining soon after, followed by Josh. 

At the bar, as they waited for the drinks to be prepared, Simon caught JJ staring at you. “You did good”, he told JJ, leaning in so the younger man could hear him over the music.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me”, JJ said simply, turning to Simon. “This is great, YouTube is great… I love it all”, he started, “But I’d give it all up in an instant for her. She’s put up with so much shit for me to get this album out and to keep a consistent video schedule and stuff with the boxing and everything. She doesn’t complain, just tells me when I’m being a cunt and to sort my shit out”.

Simon looked at JJ, convinced he’d never seen his best friend as love as he was in that moment. “I’m happy for you, bro”, Simon told him honestly, slapping his chest supportively before turning around to grab one of the trays of drinks that had been left on the bar.

 -

 Back at the apartment, once your slinky dress was discarded on the bathroom floor and JJ’s Versace jacket had been hung haphazardly on the back of his chair, you waited for JJ to get out of the shower and join you in bed. You flicked through the photos that you’d taken or been sent of the night, landing on your favourite of you and JJ that Talia had sent you once you’d piled into the Uber.

You’d been forcing JJ to cycle through a whole album of poses, making sure you got at least one decent one from the night as you and JJ were renowned for taking the blurriest of pictures. Simon had made a quip about how JJ was whipped and JJ had sniped back. You’d burst out into laughter, head tilted back, as JJ stared at you lovingly. The picture captured it perfectly; JJ’s arm tucked around your waist, your hand hooked over his shoulder, the look in JJ’s eyes that you knew was reserved for only you…

 “Whaddya lookin at?”, JJ asked, jumping onto the bed next to you and yanking you into his arms. You showed him the photo over your shoulder. “It’s cute. Send me it”, he told you. Once JJ had removed himself from your back, you rolled over so you could face him. You watched as he received the picture and immediately went to set it as his lock screen. “What?”, he asked defensively when you fixed him with a soft look.

“It’s just cute”, you told him, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips. JJ’s hands came to your hips, guiding you over to sit on his lap. “I love you”, you whispered, resting your forehead against his. JJ nudged his head forward, dropping another kiss onto the corner of your mouth before looking up and meeting your eyes.

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know”.

[putris-et-mulier]

Hey. Can I have some advice, or at least, a moment to vent? I've been living with chronic illness for a while now. Ten months ago it got worse and a few months after that, I found out that I was diagnosed with chronic bronchitis when I was younger. Only my mother never told me until I was complaining about the same damn cough for 5 months. I researched it and behold the symptoms match with the symptoms I've been having and (1/3)

lived with for years. Chronic bronchitis is a leading cause of death. And no one bothered to tell me hey you’ve had a chronic illness for years and yea you probably should get on some kind of regular treatment. Much like my ADHD that my mom didn’t believe I had until I was 18 and compiled enough research to write my own article and couldn’t sit still to watch a movie. Anyway, I moved out, got a job at one of the busiest theme parks in the world, proceeded to get sick several times,and then ended up with a chronic cough that wouldn’t go away. Present time. It’s been 10 months since the cough started and no I still have yet to receive treatment cause doctors are fucking expensive and I have no car. I walk to work and there isn’t a dr near where I live that the buses will take me to. Uber is fucking expensive and I’ve got bills to pay. Doctors also give me the worst anxiety. When I went to get my ADHD treated the dr gave me a panic attack and told me that I was wastingwas wasting her time cause I couldn’t afford to pay her up front and the secretary was fucking up the insurance. They don’t listen to me, often give the wrong medicine, and/or always, ALWAYS, have something to say about my fucking weight as though that is what is making me sick. Like yea, could I lose a few pounds? Sure. Is it what’s making me ill? No. And I don’t have the fucking money to spend to try to find a decent doctor that will give me the treatment I need before I end up dying.Today, my chest felt like someone was squeezing my lungs and then setting fire to them while I couldn’t breath. I honestly was afraid that I was gonna pass out. And I understand I do need to get treatment but if it comes down to a dr or having fun and making all the hours I work and the constant stress worth it then I’m gonna go have fun. Cause I work way too much (50 hr/6 day weeks)for someone in my current state of health. I just don’t know. I’m tired and stressed and I have like no Energy™and just sorry for the long ass rant but you seem like the only blog I follow that would probably at least know what I’m dealing with. If that’s the right way to put it? I just feel like its gonna come down between me dying but at least having some semblance of fun or surviving my illness and not much else. I can’t afford both.

As hard as it is for people born disabled, I’m very very lucky to have been put on the disability system when I was a baby. 

People think it’s so easy to get on disability because everyone’s idea of a disabled person is an adult mutate that was physically injured (not that it’s easy for them either) but when you show up and say “I’m sick” but look healthy they disregard you because… Where have you been all these years? If you were really sick you would’ve come earlier.

No one believes you.

I wish I had advice but as of now this is the status quo. You are very lucky to have a documented diagnosis so you do have a little bit of a step up but the truth of the matter is that you have to give up your life as it is now if you want any help.

It’s going to take years, intentionally confusing and convoluted paperwork, neglect, humiliation, verbal abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, and depending on the disability also physical abuse. And that’s just to get on disability in the first place.

Then a few times each year you have to convince them you still need it. I was born disabled and I have a physically visible disability and I still have to keep proving that God hasn’t cured me.

This is why we are disabled. 

If you seek treatment you’re going to have to move outside of society. You can’t keep working, you can’t go do anything fun without considering how it may look if you get caught, you have to move in with family or friends that aren’t sick who will make you sicker with all the stress of being gas lighted not just outside but also inside your home. Or you get institutionalized.

What you’re going through is very common. What you’ve decided on is also very common.

I did it myself as much as possible and was just crossing my fingers hoping that I died before I got to the point where I couldn’t pretend anymore.

I did a lot of fun things and I had a lot of great times. Where I am in my life now, since I didn’t die in time, I’ve had to give up all of that and more. I have to beg someone(s) to let me live each week. I’ve come to terms with my life now becoming nothing but about being disabled and I’m starting to fight back but we are at square one. And I am much weaker and much more ill than I’ve ever been in my life because of all the fun I had.

But I don’t know if I would’ve given up having fun even knowing it’s making my life now nearly impossible. I’m one of the first millennials, the first disabled generation, to get to this stage in being a semi-legal citizen in adulthood so there is no one to look to for advice that knows what this is like.  Or will believe that you’re telling the truth. Other disabled people my age are going through the same thing, none of us really know what’s going to happen or what any of the right answers are.

If I hadn’t stayed in the closet for so long I wonder what I would be like now. Would I be more stable and confident? What if it was still as bad but I didn’t even have fond memories? If I hadn’t been able to relax now and then I may not have even let myself live this long. I have no idea.

The best I can tell you is that you are not alone and as much as it feels like no one can understand your situation there are a lot of people who know exactly what it’s like. But even having that support is risky because you do have to go into disabled communities on the Internet which can risk you being uncloseted.

This is why you are using anonymous. This is why I never turn the option of being anonymous off.

I, for one, will not live in this suffering needlessly. I’ve would’ve committed suicide many years ago as  I had planned on until I finally did involve myself, outside of the closet, in the disabled community online.

It’s not the camaraderie or the support that gave me a will to live. I still feel the same. The difference is I see you guys and I’m living your future. If the only way to live is to suffer then I’m willing to do so in order for you guys to have a little more traction than we have.

It’s not altruistic, it’s petty.

I care nothing for those people in society. I can feel sympathy or empathy but at my core I really don’t care. I care about what’s mine. My being disabled. My place in the disabled community. You guys; my friends.

There is one thing I’m good at and that is pissing socialites off. From a fuckboy on the Internet to a world renowned doctor. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to piss as many of them off as I can because I care about other disabled people.

One of two things can happen: 

1. I’ll just be entertaining other disabled people while I go down in flames

2. I might actually help making a difference toward getting our civil rights by taking some the socialites down with me

I’m happy with either of these. It’s petty but it’ll be fun and this is the only fun currently available to my community. 

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Girl, get ready: "I've read this book four times, I'm basically an expert by now!" and Treasure hunter AU

***

Maria didn’t know why she hadn’t been expecting this. She knew Alex. She knew what kind of person he was, what he was capable of. Why hadn’t she seen this coming?

Maybe because if she had known, she’d have packed her bags and left in the night long before now and then where would the gang be the next time Laurens got his leg stuck in a bolt hole or Lafayette gave himself a concussion knocking his head on another low rock ceiling?

Still, Maria couldn’t help but feel she should have known.

She should have known what an insufferably anxious, excruciatingly overbearing father to be Alexander Hamilton would make.

Up until now, she’d been meeting with just Eliza, giving her regular check-ups and whatever vitamins she had to hand, as many tips and tricks she could come up with off the top of her head to make early pregnancy in the middle of a somehow particularly sweltering section of the Amazon jungle as bearable as possible, all while gently hinting that maybe Alex deserved to know that he had a baby on the way with the girl he’d even yet to admit he had a casual friends with benefits relationship with.

So, in a way, Maria had kind of dug her own grave here.

Not that she wasn’t so happy for her friend, relieved beyond measure after holding her while she worried and stressed and wept over her newfound, unplanned motherhood, to now see her smiling with that excitement in her eyes, the smile on her face like she just couldn’t help it, the hand resting protectively and proudly on her stomach and, most importantly, Alex’s arm around her shoulders. Of course, she was happy things that worked out and she was ready to do whatever she could to help her friends, to do her job, to help their strange little family of treasure hunters grow by one.

She did miss the quiet though, when it was just her and Eliza in this medical tent every Thursday afternoon.

“Okay, so I’m thinking if we can get our hands on the scanning equipment, I can order it from base, we can do our first proper ultrasound,” Maria hummed thoughtfully, flipping through her notes over at the rickety desk she used, despite its limited usefulness because otherwise she’d be leaning on someone’s back every time she needed to write (she maintained that there was no substitute for her careful handwritten records, no matter how many new-fangled data systems Burr exasperatedly begged her to use).

“But ultrasounds aren’t usually done until the twentieth week?”

Alex’s fifth interruption. Maria pushed her glasses further up so she could pinch the bridge of her nose, one of her rare signs of exhaustion.

“Like I said, Ham,” she said slowly, “Just because Eliza’s been through so much with the fall and everything, I want to get a good look at what’s going on in there early, just to make sure everything’s going fine- “

“Wait, what if it isn’t?” the pitch of Alex’s voice rose, his jaw setting anxiously, eyes widening in panic, “What if something’s the matter, how would we know, what if it’s an emergency and we don’t see it in time?”

Eliza’s hand, gently reaching out for his and winding their fingers together and bringing it to her abdomen, to rest on the curve only she and Alex even realised was there when they’d been lying together on his cot after another sleepless night talking and kissing and dreaming and…other things. That was the only thing that broke Alex free of his fourth potential panic attack of the day. The grateful smile Alex shot her, that look in his eyes that made it clear how much he wanted to cuddle her close and kiss her cheek but daren’t out of habit.

Maria couldn’t help smiling when she saw that. Now if they could just get them to admit how much they obviously loved each other…

“I’m positive everything is okay, Ham,” she insisted comfortingly, “I know you’re worried but the heartbeat is good and strong, Eliza, your weight is as it should be, you’ve been taking all your vitamins, you’ve not been doing any strenuous work…”

“She tried to lift a box of food supplies the other day,” Alex grumbled, “I caught her just in time.”

“Hey!” Eliza side eyed him, digging an elbow gently into his ribs, “Tattletale!”

“I’m sure one box of dehydrated milk won’t hurt the little one,” Maria chuckled.

She’d meant it as a joke but Alex pounced immediately.

“Oh god, but heavy lifting while pregnant could lead to hernias or low birth weight or even premature labour,” he yelped, twisting his hands in his hair fretfully, “And then she might pull a muscle and then- “

“Alex, I’m only twelve weeks, I’m pretty damn sure I’m not going to go into labour,” Eliza rolled her eyes, trying to soothe her baby daddy with the runaway imagination.

“Yeah but if you don’t keep your back straight as possible and push up with your legs, it could be dangerous, your skeletal support system is changing…” Alex fretted.

“Hamilton,” Maria folded her arms, back to pinching her nose, “I promise it’s fine, I can give you my medically professional assurance that it will be fine.”

She did not at all care for the superior snort Alex gave. Not many things riled Maria, she was a gentle soul who saw little point in getting angry with people. But she did not like having her medical knowledge questioned.

“Look, I’ve read the book you gave me four times,” he said with an air of smugness, as if that counted for more than the years of training Maria had, “I’m practically an expert by now!”

Maria found herself counting backwards from ten. Always a good strategy when dealing with Alex.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Eliza, sending her an apologetic but fond look, her hand still held tightly in Alex’s. A what can you do kind of look. A what can I say, he’s kind of a jerk but he’s my jerk kind of look.

And Maria gave a small sigh, relaxing. As long as Eliza was happy, as long as Alex was happy, as long as this baby was going to be born to two parents who loved it and would care for it and protect it.

That was all that mattered.

“Well, fair enough, Ham,” she gave him a wry smile, “You’ve done your research. But yeah, the ultrasound will also give me a much better opportunity to work out due dates, conception dates…”

“Oh, no need for that!” Alex’s eyes brightened, his grin turning into that crooked smirk the team knew so well, “It was that time we went dancing, remember Betsey, when we were in Vega Alta and we were making out in that alley when we were waiting for the cab, you undid my belt and reached down and started- “

As Eliza flamed bright red and her head dropped into her hands and Maria struggled to resist the urge to repeatedly whap her head against her clipboard, she had to be awfully firm with herself.

She could put up with this for four more months. She could.

Maria was starting to doubt that she could. It was only two Thursdays in and she was…struggling. Just a little.

“Alexander Hamilton, I swear to god if you do not get out of my med tent right now I am going to shove this speculum up your ass.”

“To be honest, I can’t promise he wouldn’t be into that.”

“Betsey!!”

Three weeks in and Alex wasn’t happy to turn up for the weekly medical check to see a sign of the door that proudly and firmly proclaimed in Maria’s neat handwriting.

‘FULLY AND FORMALLY TRAINED medical professionals and pregnant ladies only.’

[allsystemsarenotgo]

“The Novel”

I've been needing to talk to somebody about something. Last night, somebody I don't talk to very often anymore was willing to give up some sleep to talk to me.

I gave them the abridged version. I knew they needed sleep and didn't have time for a novel.

.

.

.

Here is "The Novel".

---

A child learns their name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

A pet learns its name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

When bullies call you gay and queer repetitively because you've never had a date much less a girlfriend in 12 years, ... At some point you begin to believe it.

When that trend continues to a statistic of 3.25 years of relationship out of 30 years of life.....

You begin to question the things you ever thought you knew.

I was an opinionated ass in high school that knew better but did the things anyways because I had nothing to really lose. Except I did lose alot of pride along the way.

I didn't like many things, and I didn't understand the decisions of many people. There are days that I wish I was still friends with people that I alienated or that alienated me because I didn't believe in drinking alcohol or having kids before college, or at a young age at all.

There are alot of days that I wonder....will I have to be find a lady 8-10 years younger than myself to love me for who I am...and potentially make them have kids at a young age so I'm not the age of their peers' grandpa's when they graduate?

^ That image was me in high school.

I never dated in high school. I courted and got shot down a ...couple... times. I didn't go to parties, I wasn't a part of the cool kids' clique. I didn't really....do anything high-schooley in high school.

And it got me bullied. My eccentricities made me well known. I was generally outspoken and firm on what I believed (no sex, no alcohol, scientifically agnostic) and...it basically made me live in infamy. It got me bullied alot. I was called gay and queer alot. And it wasn't just from 1 or 2 or 5 people.

I had 3 crushes in high school. Two were a grade younger than I.

The first I asked out my Sophomore year. We talked alot, sat next to eachother, did classwork together. We were both above-average students, so the teacher us let us do what we wanted while she dealt with the rest of the class.

That was really what entered me into the downward spiral of depression. I'd never asked a girl out before, much less been shot down. It took me a long time to get over that.

The second I asked out my junior year. We didn't have any classes together, but I had worked my way into her family via a mutual friend. I felt like we knew eachother fairly well.

Getting shot down by her didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. But given the nature of high school, the backlash of her friends and friends-of-friends, and probably half the school altogether...that is what hurt. It showed the true colors of many whom were already primadonna status, approaching it, or (falsely) thought they had it. She did apologize to me after a period of time, and ultimately, she probably made the better decision.

I never asked my third crush out. After being shot down twice in two years, I didn't want it to be three for three. I worked with her, and we got along awesome. Maybe not asking her was a fatal flaw in my life. I will never know. We have stayed friends over the years despite not seeing eachother until earlier this summer. I met up with her twice, and both times wrenched my emotions. I've since found out she is actually taken, which shot down my chance of ever knowing the true answer.

Then I finally went to college.

I went from a school of 450 kids in a town of 360 people to a dorm of 500+ kids in a college of 10,000+.

But I did not change with the scenery. I was still outspoken.

Neither of my roommates liked it.

Neither of my roommates liked me.

I was outspoken enough to write a persuasive essay on Abstinence for my college English class. I didn't see the problem.

Until the Prof said we had to read them aloud, after she had graded them.

Then I panicked. I crashed and I burned.

I felt so....little and insecure.

I wasn't one to force my thoughts on people. Yet, I just had.

Do you know how bad that feels inside?

Pretty damn bad.

One day, I got a message from a high school friend I hadn't talked to in a while. We started talking. In the end, she admitted she had a crush on me through high school and asked if we could give it a try. I was 1.5-2 hours away from home.

It was a hard juggle, but we made it work as best as somebody that'd never had a GF before much less a LDR could.

After a few months of LD dating and the start of my second year of college, a topic came up that would change the rest of my life mentally.

And something clicked in my head.

- What if this girl was 'the one'?

- What if something happened. Would I want to die a virgin?

- What if this doesn't work out. I'll always be the inexperienced one?

That last one hit me hard. There was no way around the fact. And for what I knew, I knew that being the lesser experienced would likely never be a good thing.

(10 years later, a friend put it perfectly....)

I convinced myself to break something that I had let run my life for the previous 10+ years.

I think it's safe to say that very few peoples' first time is "great". But it's a learning experience.

-learn-

-learn-

-learn-

Then we broke up after 9 months.

We rarely saw eachother, it couldn't be that difficult to get over right?

Wrong.

-sulk-

-lonely-

-stressed-

-imbalanced-

And...

-addicted-

I was broken. The fire inside of me had been lit, and nothing was putting it out.

I had a raging wildfire spreading within me within a few short weeks, and no way to control it.

I had just started a job at the school newspaper, running the website. I shared an office with the two graphic design artists. We were getting along pretty well and it was fairly evident that both of them were really relaxed and loose about what they wanted to talk about. I was the reserved one, sitting at my desk, listening with minimal contribution.

Until one day, I finally had the courage to chime in to their conversations. It didn't take much longer before I was in my second relationship.

I learned alot of new and different things during that 2.5 year relationship.

Example: telling her father about my shellfish allergy. It was good because he cooked alot of it. It was because he knew my weakness and made no secret that some things would easily justify using it against me.

I learned to get over my fear of public image. I was dating a woman almost twice my weight. When we first started...dating...I was petrified to be seen with/around her much less hold her hand. Over time that phobia subsided.

I learned that addiction comes in many forms. I spent many nights at her apartment, sometimes I went home and sometimes I didn't. Spending 4 hours a day with her at work and another 4-12 hours with her at her apartment...it got to the point that I missed her when I was away from her. I missed having her company, and I missed cuddling.

I learned that I'm very much a physical contact person. After all those years of being an only, lonely child...I wanted to give and receive physical touch.

She would print off a piece of artwork, I would lay on my stomach on her bed, and she would trace the outline onto my back, then start filling it in. That's usually when I would fall asleep. She would keep drawing as I slept, and eventually I would wake up.

As long as we were touching, I was happy. Sometimes I would lay on her, sometimes she would lay on me, sometimes we'd be side by side with a leg on the other.

I learned that calculated risks are worth calculating to the limit. And that mis-calculating is not fun.

I learned that parents are smart and figure out almost everything.

There was only one real issue and one hybrid issue with the relationship.

Both of us were mentally strained. I could not speak my emotions or feelings. I couldn't handle the 'adulting' conversations regarding the future. I couldn't explain when I was sad, mad, upset, or anxious in voice, only text. I couldn't "use my words". When scolded, I just wanted to ball up in a corner and cry. At the same time, both of our academics were on a downward spiral of death. She ended up dropping out completely and going back to junior college, I ended up changing majors twice and barely escaping with any pride left at all and a very expensive piece of paper that said "Bachelor of Science in Miscellaneous Bullshit". Okay, University Studies...but same thing.

The relationship had evolved far beyond what it had originally been intended to be.

It was supposed to be more of a cover-up for a FWB situation than an actual relationship. But we caught some sort of feelings, and....

.

.

I've been single since then.

It took a few years, but we still talk to eachother and are still friends.

But I miss the cuddles.

I miss the touching.

I miss being relaxed and falling asleep while being drawn on.

I miss...alot of things.

I had a few more crushes develop during college. Some I let go, some I got turned down on. At least none of them laughed at me. 

One of the ones that I let go...I reconnected with a couple months ago. I was going to ask her out...and I kinda did...only to find out that she was secretly in a relationship that hadn’t gone public yet. That was a pretty good kick to the twig and berries, knowing that I was just too late to the party. 

Once I learned about High Functioning Autism, alot of things made sense. I slowly learned better coping mechanisms. I learned to do more "normal" things like making eye contact.

My senior year of college, I met an awesome lady in my coding class. We got along great. She helped crack my shell. We went on walks, we played basketball, we played on pool tables, we played soccer. We sat on balconies and talked. We kind of...had a thing going. She was my only friend to attend my college graduation. We even took a picture together in my cap and gown (which I have tried many times to find. I'm guessing it was deleted....see below).

But we didn't. I wasn't allowed to hug her much less kiss her, even on the forehead (I wanted to...many times). I was barely allowed to hold her hand.

I got shot down. I felt like I was in a plane that was missing a wing and didn't have an ejection seat.

I plummeted into the ground and crashed and burned.

We stopped talking after that.

I still don't know what exactly I did wrong.

I still don't know what exactly I did wrong.

I could say that about many friends that I have lost over the years.

I still don't know what exactly I did wrong.

That was 5 or 6 years ago. I honestly don't remember anymore.

That's how long I have been lonely.

That's how long it has been since I went on a date.

That's how long I have not been able to have an unweighted conversation.

Sure, I have seen my second ex a time or three. But it's not the same. That's not a date. That's not something to lead to the future.

I have a two best friends that I can talk about almost anything with. But I never see them. One lives two states away, the other lives several hours away (any other state besides Texas, and they'd be in another state).

They help. They give me a method to vent. But I am afraid of losing them.

I have lost 3 best friends in my life already.

One cut me out of their life as a birthday present to me after 4 or 5 years, my freshman year in the dorm.

One cut me out of their life after many conflicts over 7 years. We never met in person.

One cut me out of their life after I became a burden to them. We saw eachother on a regular basis, I even stayed at their house once after they tried to break my shell and I (mentally) collapsed into a puddle of goo. They also hurt me once by calling the police for a welfare check, and my parents got involved.

Of the two best friends I have managed to keep, the closer of the two has issues in their own life going on right now. I feel guilty and sad for even talking to them...they have asked that I limit interaction while they try to straighten out their own world. They have also called the police on my for a welfare check, and got my co-workers involved.

I already had a hard time making friends before. Anymore, it's hard for me to trust anyone at all.

I don't have any friends to go places with.

I'm always working my ass off (working 7 days a week these days, haven't had a real day of rest in months).

Social Anxiety says that I can't go anywhere alone. Plus I don't really trust myself alone, much less in a foreign Environment.

How am I supposed to meet a friend, when I work my ass off 7 days a week? When I don't know what resting is?

How do I elevate a non-existent friend to "More than a friend" status?

A child learns their name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

A pet learns its name by having it spoken to them repetitively.

When bullies call you gay and queer repetitively because you’ve never had a date much less a girlfriend in 12 years, … At some point you begin to believe it.

When that trend continues to a statistic of 3.25 years of relationship out of 30 years of life…..

You begin to question the things you ever thought you knew.

Sometimes I wish I was Ace.

Sometimes I wish I knew what I am.

Historically, I can be described as a smart, odd, minimally sarcastic ignoramus. But that is only my personality.

Am I straight? Am I gay? Am I bi? Or am I just hopeless?

Will I ever find love? Will I ever have kids?

Is there something wrong with me that revolts women away?

Will I have to find a woman 8-10 years younger than myself and cause her to have children at a young age to avoid being the age of their peers' grandparents at graduation? If I find a woman now, we date for 3 years, engaged for 1, married for 3, then have a kid...I'll be 37 when they are born and 55 when they graduate high school.

We're the bullies in high school right all this time? I don't want them to be. But what if they are? Or am I just that broken inside?

The things that I like/enjoy...they scare me a little. And that's coming from me. For years I have said I was a sapiosexual (turned on by intelligence rather than personality or looks)...but it never occurred to me, what if the gender lines do not in-fact exist? What if....

These are the questions that keep me awake at night.

These are the questions that feed my depression.

These are the scenarios that feed my anxiety, my trust issues, my loneliness.

These are the reasons that, more than anything....I will never turn down a hug.

Because a hug means you love and care about me.

And I need that reassurance.

But it feels good on the inside, too.