#am i being a hypochondriac or should i get checked

[mars-ipan]

having anxiety sucks so bad when you might have a slight medical problem

[thebibliosphere]

Hey Joy, this isn't a question so much as a way for me to convince myself I'm not a hypochondriac, lol. Lately, I've been experiencing symptoms of fatigue, brain fog or memory issues, light-headedness, etc, that are uncommon for my age (30). I have related disorders such as anemia, anxiety, & ADHD that may be contributing to these symptoms, although they seem to have gotten worse or appear more frequently now than when I was initially diagnosed with those disorders. My work allows me to read & interact with disabled people with rare diseases, so I often find similarities with their medical issues. At first, I thought this was all just burnout or something related to the lockdown during COVID. I just saw my doctor and had blood work done to check my levels, and I may have a heart condition (tachycardia, mitral valve prolapse). I've fallen asleep at work before because I can't keep my eyes open, even after a full 8 hours of sleep. I can get dizzy from standing up too fast & can't seem to be on my feet for very long without discomfort & pain (I used to work retail, how did I ever do it?). I've researched some of my symptoms and found ME/CFS and POTS as possible conditions. Do you think it's a possibility I have these, or is it just my anxiety? Thank you! (P.s. Hunger Pangs is on my tbr!)

I obviously cannot tell you with any certainty what is wrong--and I am glad you are seeing doctors about it already and may have possible answers wrt tachycardia and the mitral valve.

What I will say is that there are many types of dysautonomia, of which POTS is one, and that what you are describing sounds very familiar to me as someone with two known types of dysautonomia.

The fact that this is hampering your quality of life to the point where you fall asleep at work, are unable to stand without getting dizzy, and are experiencing chronic pain, is enough of a reason to pursue further testing for things like dysautonomia and, yes, possibly even ME/CFS though given your history of anemia, I'm inclined more toward dysautonomia because the two often go hand in hand.

Also, it is normal to feel anxiety experiencing these types of symptoms. Even if it turns out to be a symptom of your anxiety, doesn't make the experiences any less real and debilitating, and you deserve treatment that will help improve your quality and comfort of life. And there is treatment and things you can do that will make you feel better. Getting your anemia under control should be a top priority if it isn't already. Mines was allowed to go untreated for years until we found out my iron anemia was being caused by pernicious anemia (b12 deficiency), and the iron anemia I'd been plagued with since birth suddenly cleared up.

Years and years of blood transfusions and infusion treatments, and the whole time I needed b12. Who knew? Certainly not my old doctors.

Anyway. If your symptoms are at the point where you are recognizing yourself in things like POTS? It's time to pursue that with your doctor. Don't put it off because you think it's not that bad or others have it worse. Everyone deserves to feel well.

Good luck.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Heya! I sent in a matchup request before but I kinda rambled off in it (and I think I was on anon too-) so imma try again and be less ramble-y 😅

For Hazbin Hotel please!

-------------

Gender/Pronouns: She/They AFAB

Sexuality: Asexual, questioning-aromantic who would date men/masc

Age: 25

Appearance: 5'11 White Australian with pale as fuck skin, blue eyes with dark bags under them, half my head is shaved the other half long, currently dyed red hair but it changes once it washes out and I get bored of my natural blonde. Slightly chubby belly with average breasts I wanna remove completely 👍

MBTI: INFP-T

Mental Additives: I have autism, clinical depression, clinical anxiety, PTSD and lowkey a hypochondriac.

Personality: I'm told I'm open-minded and easy to get along with. I am also a completely open book who talks about 98% of things I have been through; including trauma and random factoids I have learnt.

I smile all the time, even when crying I find myself smiling sometimes. All I want is for the people I care about to be happy; and I don't always include myself in that list but I've been getting better at doing so!

I don't have a job but I am slowly looking. I think I've just gotten used to not having a job or going to school? It's boring and mind numbing, but the last job I had gave me anxiety attacks. Doesn't help I have no ambitions in life. Except for whatever hyperfixation I'm on!

Yet I also verbally yet playfully threaten violence on friends, but if need be I can't ever throw a punch. I diffuse situations with words and pacifist action (like leaving). But I will use my height and build to be threatening to protect a friend, despite knowing that I can't defend myself. I also break into tears if I feel like I said the wrong thing to a friend or family member. I'm not as scary as I sometimes look or act.

Imma list off words that remind me of my personality since idk how else to explain myself: Helpful, imaginative, leisurely, loyal, protective, self-critical, absentminded, touch-starved, irritable (prob the anxiety talking hopefully), unable to flirt or recognise flirting, quirky, anxioussss!, logical thinker.

Likes: True crime, reading/writing fanfic, my cat, my five birds, my two fish!, I want reptile pets, random facts, the cold (jumper weather), playing all types of video games, watching YouTube, thunderstorms, chocolate, soft drinks, my lil brother, my OC that I shape into whatever fixation I'm on!

Dislikes: Having writers block, drinking alcohol, smelling cigarettes/weed, being called lazy, being compared to others, the heat (remove my skin), drinking water, my lil brother (when he's in mean mode), racists, terfs, literally all dumbasses who think they're better than everyone, routines.

Hi, I love you! I hope you enjoy this! I want everyone to know that this bean is an amazing Mutual, and you should all check them out! Okay, okay, now to the show!

~~~~~ MATCHUPS ~~~~~

HAZBIN HOTEL

Alastor

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

Alastor really doesn't care for people in general. If you aren't one of the few he deems good enough, stay out of his way.

That's why he was thrown for a loop when you came along. Is someone so kind and genuine not being scared of him? Who do you think you are?

Alastor is very protective, and though it may take ages to realize he has feelings, he will firmly defend and protect you.

When you and Niffty are hanging out, he feels so proud and almost giddy, an emotion he only feels when murdering normally.

When you fought the Angels, he was in awe of you. Though you needed training from Vaggie, you were fierce and ready to do whatever you could to save your friends.

The first time he snapped at you, he felt horrible, and when you started crying, he was practically a dead man, times two. He spent weeks trying to apologize and make it up to you.

He isn't big on touching or affection, but he shows you he cares in his own way. He is always opening the door for you, cooking for you, and taking you to special events or places.

He supports all your hobbies and interests and even tries to help you find new things to enjoy. This way, when he is busy doing whatever he has to, you are entertained until he returns.

He loves just having lazy days with you in the Radio Tower. There, he can work on his master plans, and you can do whatever to your heart's content.

When he finally accepts he has stronger feelings for you than his regular crew of Mimzy, Rosie, and Niffty, he asks the girls what's happening to him.

They collectively help him confess to you, and when they find out that you two are a lot more similar than they thought, they are thrilled for you two now that you guys have found your person.

If you ever mention physical touch or intimacy with him, he will allow it, but only if you are comfortable with it. Do not force yourself to think it's the right thing to do unless you 100% want it to.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

You had been working with Niffty on a surprise for Alastor. He had been working hard to take down the Vees and especially hard to piss off Vox after a particularly vile comment he made about you. Niffty was out collecting the materials while you were researching how to make a cape, crown, and scepter. Once everything was rounded up and ready to go, you two got down to some serious work. Building your masterpiece for Alastor was moving along well, and you two couldn't wait to see his face.

Sneaking up to Alastors room, you set up the creation. While you were busy making it look perfect, Niffty distracted Alastor. However, Alastor knew that something was off as soon as you weren't downstairs ready to greet him. Making his way to your location, Niffty did her best to stall the tall man, but it was too late. Luckily, just before the door opened, you had set up the display. You remembered before the battle against the Angels that Niffty had dubbed Alastor 'King Roach'. Alastor was a king in your eyes, so you wanted to show him how you honestly thought of him.

There before Alastor stood a mannequin with a deep red cape adorned with blackthorns, a crown made of black cardboard and gold glitter glue, and lastly, a scepter made out of a large stick and one of Lucifer's rubber ducks that looked like Alastor. The man couldn't help but laugh at the creation in pure enjoyment. As he walked over to start putting on the new outfit, Niffty crawled up your shoulder and perched there waiting. Once King Alastor was officially crowned, he bent down and asked, "May I kiss you, my love?" You nodded gently, and all that was heard after the kiss was a 'blegh' sound from the tiny woman perched on your head.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(You had been sitting in the Radio Tower for hours and were ready for fun. However, Alastor was still trying to work.)

Y/N: Can we please do something else, Alastor?

Alastor: Dear, you are always more than welcome to do whatever you please. The most powerful demon lord is your partner.

Y/N: Noooo, Alastor, I wanna do something with you.

Alastor: Hmmmm, is that so, like what?

Y/N: uh uh uh....damn it! You can't put me on the spot like that, Alasor.

Alastor: Alright, alright, come on, let's go to Rosies for some tea and a break.

Y/N: Hell yeah! Field trip!

[chronicallymargaret]

the beginning

One morning in February of 2012, my mom had knocked on the door to wake me for breakfast and I told her I didn’t feel well. She went and grabbed the thermometer and it read 102℉. There was a sickness going around the high school at the time, so she told me to take some meds and rest. The next morning, my mom woke me up again to check my temperature and it had barely gone down. I stayed home again and followed the same regime. After my fever finally broke, my body didn’t feel right. I thought maybe I was just overly tired from being sick or maybe it was just the cold medicine wearing off. Eventually, I got to the point where I really didn’t think about the pain because I didn’t want to worry anyone. The family wounds were still healing from losing my first best friend, my grandpa, six years prior to cancer. Plus, I never liked people worrying about me because I knew that no matter what, I would always be okay - or so I thought.

High school was hard enough - let alone having a medical condition that not a single doctor in the tri-state area knew a single thing about. I kept my symptoms away from my parents for a very long time. Eventually, like most parents, they caught on that something wasn’t right with their kid. In December of 2012 along came the typical parental questions: “Margaret, are you doing drugs?” “Come on, kid, just tell me what’s going on with ya.” “Kiley Mae. Sit your ass down and start talking.” And then the never ending conversations and tears started to flow. I explained that, no - I was not doing drugs (I really was quite innocent here, Ma and Pops. Only a couple of times, I swear.). I finally broke down to my parents and told them the truth: Ever since that February morning in 2012, I’ve had a headache and chronic pain nearly every day.

Next thing I knew, my mom started researching and researching and more researching. She tried countless times to get clinics/doctors/specialists - you name it, she called them - to even listen to her. She called Mayo Clinic nearly EVERY DAY - practically begging on her hands and knees to fit me in to be seen by someone, anyone. She was my voice because no doctor or person took me seriously. I was “craving attention, a drama queen, drug addict/seeker, hypochondriac, lazy, not good enough, problematic, selfish, waste of money, time, and space.) I watched my dad’s hair slowly turn more and more gray as he worried about whether he should go to work to make money for the never-ending medical bills or go with his wife and daughter to find out the answers. (I hate how corporate America works. Since when has money become more important than one’s health? It’s disgusting and I wish we could change the system.) I watched my sister lack the attention from my parents that she deserved because they were constantly worried about me. (I am in no way, shape, or form calling out my parents. They have ALWAYS done their best in EVERY situation and that is why I am so proud to call them my parents - my heroes.) My high school friends secretively raised money to buy me a miniature pet pig to try to help make me feel better - my parents appreciated the kind gesture but said no because I needed to focus on my health. (I WILL own a pet pig one day - Dallas has already approved.

I have had a majority of my POTS symptoms under control over the last 10 years, but 2023 really screwed up my body. Due to all of the trauma and stress from not only everyday life, but miscarriages, surgeries, and mental health episodes as well - my body has been in FULL overdrive. I've been struggling trying to keep my life going and trying to ignore my health because I don’t want to give in to the fact that my POTS is getting WORSE and not better like I had been telling myself - and everyone I know - since the day I was diagnosed in July of 2012. Back then - yes, this was a frickin’ decade ago .. totally gross, I know. [“POTS was only seen in approximately 500,000 Americans. (https://www.aafp.org/pubs/afp/issues/2012/0901/p392.html)."] Imagine being 15 years old and you're a literal drop in the ocean of people who have something medically rare. What in the frick are the odds of that?

Flash forward to now, February 2024, I have nearly every symptom back plus new ones. My chronic symptoms are headaches - different intensities and locations, lightheadedness and dizziness, severe brain fog - I try not to drive on these days as I typically forget everything, insomnia, anxiety (omg .. I said the BIG “A” word), and depression (oooopps, I did it again bahaha). My new symptoms are: chronic abdominal pain - intensity and location has varied over approximately three months now, dry heaving, hot and cold intolerance (I told my work mom’s I feel like I’m going through menopause with how many hot flashes I have .. they giggled and said “Ohhh Kiley Mae, you have no idea what you’re in for - this is hardly nothing.” Also, can we talk about how important work relationships are? I love my work moms and work family - I’m very blessed on that front.), and vomiting.

The news that I learned today was that due to the dry heaving and vomiting, I now have a large hiatal hernia - part of my stomach is on top of my diaphragm. I’m currently waiting for a call to schedule a barium swallow test and I have a referral in with the University of Nebraska Medicine with a POTS specialist. I personally believe that I’m going to have chronic headaches and abdominal migraines - but I’m holding onto a little bit of hope that the doctor I currently have is going to confirm that the abdominal discomfort is from the hernia, not POTS. I plan on keeping this updated regularly because after I figure out what’s going on with me - I want to share my path of life so no one has to go through the medical trauma that I have.

Medical trauma is a huge part of not only who I am as a person but talking about it is the therapy that I am working through right now. I will eventually spill all of the emotions, but for today I’m going to talk about today. Because today was a very good day and I deserve to celebrate it.

My parents have become “snowbirds” and fly to southern Texas for the winter. Unfortunately, my endoscope ended up being scheduled while they were gone. I told my parents they didn’t have to come back home because it was a simple procedure, and everything was going to be okay. (Yes, I’m 27 and still take my parents to certain medical appointments because I’ve been hurt - I’m working on it.). I don’t know if it’s because I finally did it by myself or if the staff was told to be extra careful with me or what - but I had the most relaxing experience ever. No one looked at me like I was weird when I stated that I had POTS and would need an extra bag of saline. The first anesthetist actually shared with me that she also was diagnosed with POTS. I immediately got a smile on my face and asked if she was kidding. Coming from a small town, not very many people understood what my diagnosis is and again - I’ve been used to being a single drop in the ocean.

The anesthetist made sure to mark my charts and inform the rest of the care team my condition, what to expect, and what I would need after I woke back up. Anesthesia tends to send me into a flare up - especially with cutting off food and water after midnight. Once I got taken into the operating room, my actual anesthetist started asking me questions about POTS. He stated that he had heard of it, but only until recently. I started to explain how long I’ve had it. Then I just started word vomiting because this was a whole new experience for me - how I just want some answers but I’m sure they wouldn’t find anything. I had already come to terms with the abdominal migraines starting. He looked at me in the sincerest way and said, “Wow. You’re a strong woman. You’ve been through a lot but you’re so cool about it.” That statement right there hit me. I realized in that moment that, holy shit, I’ve persevered. I’ve climbed a huge hurdle today and I can’t wait to keep climbing.

If you've read this long - just know that I see you and I love you.

[herriblog]

Week 35/36

I am on my second pregnancy. I am in my Week 36. I was having difficulty in sleeping at night. I always had to put two-three pillows under my head to sleep. Somewhere about week 28, I had this same issue, and i slept with two pillows and a neck pillow. After a while, my upper back would hurt so I would remove one pillow and sleep at my side. But this time, everything is not comfortable. I just feel like I am going to die lying down. I even tried to take piriton to calm myself down but I can't. I finally slept at 2plus last night. It brought back memories of my slipped disc. I remember to kill my time during the night, I would randomly chat with people on whisper. But this time, I do not have the mood, motivation to chat with other people especially on whisper knowing that they are there for one main reason; Hook ups. It's very hard to get someone to have a heart to heart conversation without them thinking that you can be something more. Yes, you may say why don't you chat with your spouse? He has had a whole day of working. Busy. Tons on his mind. I am just going to add in more stress to his already stressful day. Even if I share, he is probably going to just say relax, it is all going to be fine. This anxiety is a killer. Reassuring your loved one like that or any other way isn't going to cut it. I did the same thing to him many years ago when he had anxiety, until he switched off sharing what he experiences.

I feel like as though I am too bloated up that causes me to feel this. But at the same time, I am hungry. I don't want to eat because it will make me feel more bloated and feel more breathlessness. I started to have these palpitations every 3-5 mins. I do not know if its normal or should I get it checked out. I googled it and they say its normal. But I never felt like this during my last pregnancy. I know. I know. Every pregnancy is different. I do not want to feel like a hypochondriac. I've already been googling every single symptom that I have. It's not helping.

To add on to my whole emotions, My friend had texted me and told me that the areas that I cover are being distributed out to my other colleagues permanently. So it seems like my boss is trying to get rid of me. Boss actually said that since I have not been around in most of the areas and the department HODs want someone permanent there (which sounds like im always on HL, but she makes it sound like I sneak off somewhere to get rid of work, which i do but i still come back to the departments to check on them in the afternoon). I told her that as much as I feel horrible being in this department and that I plan to leave this area, it should not affect me. I take more leaves than anyone in the department. I do not contribute (I used to but I always get slammed down). And I already have intentions of leaving the department to either do part time nursing or agency nursing. I keep telling myself that I shouldn't feel bad or upset. But I still do. I told my husband about this and he said she shouldn't have texted you this especially at this time. It is causing unnecessary stress on me which I agree to. She clearly knows I am not coming back to work. Why make it sound like my boss is trying to get rid of me. it may mean that I am not going to be around for the rest of the year so she is giving it to others.

So in short, I feel damn lousy. I think I feel depress that I am not going to work and top it off, my son went to school today after almost a week of not going to school so I feel lonely.

I think I should just take up the trip to KL with my husband and be away from all this. But at the same time, I am also worried about my son who has grown attached to me. He is always finding me somewhere in the house to get me to be with him. I wonder if he will be able to sleep with the new helper, Khawl (She is about 1.5 months old). I am so fickle minded.

Thats all for today.

[eyelinerda3euro]

i spent saturday night deep cleaning my kitchen and choosing the good pans and throwing the ones that made me worry the most about cancer when cooking in those. the apartment is moldy, which makes the building smell very bad and i light 3 candles. 2 are vanilla scented and remind me of a doll named Susanna I owned when I was a child and the other one is the cheapest scented candle from the supermarket, but still costing 423 kroner which is kinda crazy for me. I am starting to think that I should probably make my own candles but I hate paraffin because it’s bad for the health to inhale but I guess bee wax is really expensive to buy, gonna make some research about it. my hypochondriac self. i don’t even know where does it come from. I think it started two years ago, the first summer after covid. I started thinking obsessively about my death, and to look at it through a psychodynamic lens I see that quarantine years for me have been a tanathos/eros battleship leaving me with little to no resources to get back to normal life. so when life got back to being trivial and simple again I started to imagine my own death with very calculated details and meticulous effort. I understand the danse macabre. But I think I lost control on this thing, so I started to read De Martino and funeral traditions in europe to learn ancient ways to cope with death. It helped because I thought I was facing it all alone but that’s not true, individualism is one of the causes that led me to be obsessed with death. individualism is a call for death, it goes against the psychoanalytic concept of “desire” I think. By the way I think it worked for a while, but as soon as I get stressed my mania comes back. I wake up at night thinking I will have cancer, my father will have a cancer again, my mom is going to have cancer because of the stress. It’s very difficult to rest when I am drenched in these thoughts and that’s why I also stopped to listen to true crime. I escape death in every way possible now, I hate it, I hate being reminded of it. But I have to learn how to live with it and take it as part of the human condition. Is my creativity enough to overcome death? I like religion because it’s a very elaborated and creative system of thinking and belief that might help you overcome fears. danish philosopher kierkegård said something like “everything that happens to a bird doesn’t concern the bird” and I wish very hard I was the bird. I wish I could trust something so much that everything that happens to me becomes very easy to accept, like being left with no choice than accepting everything as it comes. i want to unlock new levels of intensity by living in full acceptance. maybe this will help my death anxiety? i don’t know. i check the bee wax on google

[luminescentwind]

1008.1

Every year I convince myself I have some form of cancer or other common disease. I have occasionally wondered if I could be a hypochondriac, but I’m not entirely conviced that I am. My reason for believing this is that I do experience one or two symptoms that raise my initial concerns. However, I also know that this sounds like a rationalization.

In any case, I noticed a slight redness in my left breast some time ago. It coincided with my yearly checkup, which includes a breast ultrasound. Turns out I have a small cyst in that area, but I’ve had them before and I know they are not dangerous. There were no other anomalies and my doctor, who is very patient with me, told me that everything is good as usual.

However, the redness worries me. I have tried not thinking about it but everytime I have a shower or I go to sleep, I check to see if it’s still there. There more I think about it the worse I feel. Because of this I have decided to go see my doctor next week.

It won’t be the first time I’ve showed up at her office asking for reassurance. Every single time it has been some misinterpretation of symptoms on my part. Fair enough, I prefer being told I’m wrong rather than waiting it out and developing some disease. Again, this sounds like a rationalization from a hypochondriac.

Last year I had good reasons to think there was a serious problem with my eyes. I kept getting pink eye, and after some time it wasn’t even pink eye, it was an awful redness and tiredness in my eyes. I was worried sick. No one really seemed to know what it was or how to treat it properly, since every time it was cured, it came back not long afterwards. I always thought it may have been the swimming pool I was going to. People said to me that I should wear goggles, but I was already doing that. I wore them so tightly that not a single drop of water could get into my eyes.

That all lasted until one day I could finally have an appointment with my ophthalmologist, and he said that whatever I did I shold be very careful because I was really risking my eyes. I decided not to go to the pool for a few weeks. My eyes got better and I decided to stop swimming. I felt awful because it was the first sport that I actually enjoyed, but I was so relieved that my eyes were better that I never looked back.

There was also a time, quite a few years ago, when I went to see my doctor, who recommended a dermatologist, and then I went to see her because I had some mean bruise-like spots on the back of my legs. I had no idea what it was and I thought it may have been some circulatory problem. Nope. It was winter, and I’d been standing in front of the heater, my back turned to it, for long periods of time. The spots were the result of my skin reacting to the heat, simple as.

Coming back to the breasts, not long ago both of them were very itchy, which also worried me. I decided to start washing my bras way more often and the itches almost disappeared. I think wearing a bra all day does come with some small issues, even if it’s only some mild skin discomfort. So now they don’t itch or anything, and this had led me to think that maybe the redness is a result of scratching or simply skin irritation, which would be a much more commong explanation.

Guess I’ll find out next week. Can’t believe I wrote all this about diseases. What’s more, I can’t belive I my memories about this are this detailed.

I feel better now though, having removed it from my system.

A friend of mine says I worry excessively and I know she’s right, but I only get true comfort from a professional opinion, and sometimes my own writing.

[thisdogpaystaxes]

i need u to come forward

i am listening to peripheral vision by turnover and i'm so fucking high and i know what you are saying and i am enamored. not that you'd listen to this album idrk your music always surprises me for some reason its exciting and the cutest thing. theres only two people this could be and i feel like you also would be sweet enough to randomly check my blog some time bc i mention it a lot bc it feels good to think and i'll read it when the time is right maybe.

im going insane a lot of this feels like im the most defensive human being on earth and i need to explain a lot. YES!

the kind of high where you can just fucking eat a bagel wit nothing. not even a little toast.

i was in my bathroom just peeing and i'm like really high and i'm getting over a really big cry i had to myself in my room like i was literally N O T! okay. nothing to talk about i just had a rly cute hypochondriac moment and freaked out xD this edible is fucking freaking me out. so like you know whatim feelingdude. the downplay is placed above this and im so sorry it took so long for you to get to the point, but im allowing myself to organize my thoughts so this will be direct at one point and wait i should test this. but also i need to THINK because im high and this is my diary and i want to think and im okay with people seeing what i think bc quite frankly i am always always thinking and working through shit and i understand people in weird ways.

back to the thing that u did.

i was pissing and i looked in my shower. so PINK. but it wasnt.. two days prior. flashback to my first shower when i got home from san diego and i was like, "shit this shower is not real." i was also high. maybe i am fucking insane. no i'm not no no no. lets talk. talk to me!!!!!

all of my bottles were slightly different. and the water felt different. i had an exquisite shower. and i didn't wash the pink off until after i shaved and exfoliated and washed my face and sighed and thought about why life is pain. i realized the shower was getting a little pinker and i ignored it. and duringthepart when i was fucking grabbing my shampoo, i noticed the shampoo i always keep in the corner because i only use it to wash my bangs and i did the day i left only. S showered after me and cleaned my bathroom once but it all got fucked because we had a party and got drunk and had a 9/11 in there so it was all cleaned while being an ineberiated vessel. L also is at my place a lot and she likes to clean.

so come forward. that is the fucking most beautiful thing and i literally can't explain to you how insane that is and i love you. but also if there was maybe someone in my apartment bc i actually had left a door open or someone did and i didnt notice? this is deflection i need to shut UP THATS FOR LATER FOR YOU

why did you rearrange all of my bottles when you knew iwouldn't see. i had a fucking social battery 9/11 that i needed to recover from like i needed to shower. you know i like being alone and that the shower is intimate. IT WAS HIDDDDDEEN.

it was really cute and i love you and i need to know who you are. like i cried my eyes out. it meant the world to me to see that. because its such a big message to do that to someone, and you know i personally wouldn't mind that in my shower. you know you're so fucking welcome to do that and theres ONLY TWO OF YOUS!!!!!

if it was anyone else i would probably sleep in a pool of vomit for a week

i dont know how to ask because i know this is a code thing but also im getting a little less high and im going to second guess this, but thats like intimate??? im not crazy. also if for some reason you both said yes id get violent......

i need to eat my sweet treat and watch degrassi, and you know i love you because im spending my. valuable alone time, before watching degrassi, to just decipher who it is because it was just gorgeous. am i crazy for being moved right now......... or do u get me. like u get it. i need to eat this croissant. idk how to ask this ill figure it out i need to digest my existence more. thanks that was cute like literally the e basis is like you cleaned my bathroom but like no you organized it like you would and that's cute i love seeing that i like that

[modx-reborn]

ok this thought is DERANGED but

doctor!simpbur with an oblivious reader who just lets him do whatever he deems “necessary” in their checkup.

and he does a lot of checkups. a lot.

You know what kay? I am going to kiss you, and kiss you, and kiss you.

This slap's, however I am throwing it under a read more cause medical/dubcon is not everyone's thing.

If anyone would look at your medical records there would be a least ten pages of reports, test requests and logs of negative and inconclusive tests all requested by your doctor, the tag of 'hypochondriac' hastily scribbled on one of the pages to excuse the tests and give leeway to what had been requested, and what would be requested. Coming from a private office, with the tests paid for there was nothing stopping them from happening, not your doctor, not the test staff, and certainly not you.

How could you, you were a little on the airy side, lost with the fairies, head stuck in the clouds and mind running with the wind.

Oh how that was exactly what he needed when it came to you, you were his star patient, his precious little testing doll, and maybe a little bit of an obsession of his. There was no stopping him when it came to what he would suggest and get you agreeing to when you stepped into his office, being well into your twenties meant there were no lingering parents and you always came alone, no partners or significant others trying to sit in, not that they would have been able to.

But today, today you had given him a perfect chance to go further, to have more to commit to memory, more to add to the haze he lost himself in the moment he was off duty.

You were scheduled for a check-up, called about pelvic pains and wanted either painkillers or some help finding the source so you could alleviate it. Sure he would help you, of course, he would he may be a creepy simp of a doctor but he would still help his dear patient, but pelvic pain meant a possible exam, which meant he could have his hands on you once again.

"Good Afternoon! How have you been? I-I mean apart from the pain, all is good? Well, I hope at least but, we should get right to it, hop up on the table and w-we can get to it!"

God if anyone were to ever come in and observe his exams with you, or if the medical students ever came to shadow him he would lose everything, just the sight of you laying back legs slightly spread as you wait for him to do as he sees fit. God, you were perfect like this, his sweet little patient that was oh so in need of his help, not even questioning as his hands slid from your thighs to ass more groping than just pressing to find the source of the pain, dipping his fingers under the band of your pants to press just above your underwear, hands still shaking as if this was the first time he had done such a thing.

Honestly, he was more worried you would question the lack of gloves this time, look down and ask why he was barehanded and touching you, but you never did, just lifting your hips slightly to let him pull down your pants and strip you down to the bare minimum of coverage for your lower half.

Sure he had gone further than this, been three fingers deep in you, pressing your hips down as he performed one of his 'examinations' had you moaning and half-heartedly bucking into his hand, hell he had even once made you lay back and take a syringe of his cum after he had quoted it as a medicine and watched how you simply let him do as he pleased, that sight may have been the breaking point, that day was his best so far, sure his hands were still gloved but you had been so perfect laid back legs spread dripping his cum, god if only he had gone through with fucking you that day.

But today would top it, he was certain, you were his last patient for the day and were booked for a long consult, the perfect time for him to finally see how far he could go, how far you would let him take you, how truly oblivious you were to what he was doing. May whatever god may watch over him keep the nurse out of his office for the next thirty minutes, he had found the source of the pelvic pain and had recorded it but muttered that he would be looking over again in case it wasn't its true source.

"W-We will need to strip you further okay? I am going to remove the last of your clothes and w-we'll see if I can find the real source of the pain. Just, just lay back and let me help..."

Even if he had seen you bare like this a hundred times before, there was no way he would ever not treat it like the very first time, shaking hands spreading your thighs, long fingers spread against your skin making sure he could see everything, knowing that at any moment you could look down at him and see how he had tented his pants, could lift your head from the clouds and look at him when long fingers begin to trace your entrance, teasing with the idea of dipping in and hearing you whine.

God if only you would look down at him now, pants were hastily undone, cock pulled free, one hand pumping himself as he reaches for the lube he kept for instruments, today he would finally get to have you, get to see how you stretched around his cock, would watch as you whined for something other than his fingers.

The cold feeling of lube dripping across your skin was just the beginning before long-familiar fingers were pressing in, working you open and stretching to brush that one spot he knew would make the most delicious and treasured noise spill from your lips.

You were such a good patient after all, willing to do any test, any examination, any sort of treatment and you were all his.

God his med school nickname really was accurate, Simpbur, Doctor Simpbur now but, that couldn't change what he was about to do...

[juuls]

So the good news is I’m not dying (well, let’s give it another 50 or so years then check back on that 😋)

I told a couple people but mostly kept it between my dad and I; at least, I told him stuff before my besties because I’m a daddy’s girl and I wanted comfort and hugs and someone physical to cry on.

And okay, look, what I’ve been experiencing is nowhere near as bad as others have it, but this was the worst case of nauseating gastrointestinal distress I have ever experienced to the point I woke up at 3am this morning, threw up for the 10th day in a row, clutching at my upper abdomen and barely able to walk (no one else was around to help me get there). Anyway, no one wants cramps where they’re not supposed to be on women—felt like when I ruptured an ovarian cyst a few years ago along with kidney stones another time, just felt higher up the abdomen.

Two points about the personnel at hospitals and how people with fibromyalgia get treated. One bad, and one surprisingly good.

The triage nurse told me I shouldn’t be wasting hospital time (there was no else in the waiting room because it was goddamn 5am) and that all ‘normal visits’ should be conducted through general practitioners/family doctors. Never mind the fact that the 2018 census showed 241 doctors for every 100,000 people. Which is abysmal, and I’m so lucky to have the same one for 20 years now. Anyway I told her in a snippy tone (I get bitchy when people imply I’m a hypochondriac or wasting people’s valuable space and resources as a disabled person) that a) it currently takes 6 weeks to get an appt with my doctor and that’s why I book two months in advance, but am shit out of luck if something pops up between all that. Like, I get a d understand and take precautions with Covid. But like??? Sometimes people need to have their abdomen poked and prodded which…

Might actually save my life/or from a long recovery surgery, or a lifetime of having to plan his and grandma’s days around his (I’m now learning: hereditary— thanks grampy) disease. But yeah this female doctor in probably her late thirties comes in and actually TAKES ME SERIOUSLY. I did also start the meet and greet by expressing concern over her doing what countless others have done…. Blame it all on the Fibromyalgia (oh you have a concussion Tommy?? Keep playing, it’s just your fibro!” Bitch please. Anyway. She said she absolutely understood and would help me figure out what feelings were fibro, and which were abnormal for anyone. Reminds me of this tweet I found around this hellsite:

But I’m so grateful she listed and she actually ordered all the blood panels they have available at this rural hospital, took x-rays, did a physical exam… and after all that and the tests she semi-smiled at me and said “well it’s not fibromyalgia” and I about cackled.

But yeah, if you start throwing up for no reason for 10 days in a row (plus some other gross things I shall not mention), please go to the hospital. Apparently I have something fucked up going on in my large/small intestine and perhaps colon. She was worried enough about me, since they don’t have the tech there except x-rays, that she said she’d bully my do tor into seeing me sooner so he can arrange some, uh…. Well; some not bad; some uuuugh…. tests to figure out wtf is going on.

I didn’t even know what was going on! So hard to explain pain when you’re in pain every day. Bah. But she helped and had excellent bedside manners and took me seriously. One of the best feelings as a fibro patient.

Only problem with it not being fibro… is you only have deductive reasoning and tons of tests to do. She told me if I don’t vet these tests done, I could die from a rupture or whatever term she used. Though I do know what sepsis is! Yay! *rolls eyes*

I’m just glad I didn’t talk myself out of going to the ER, because I was worried it ‘wasn’t serious’ enough…. Yeah well, your body can lie to you! Jerk body.

So yeah now I have a plan of action, new medications to hopefully last me until the more thorough tests are conducted.

I don’t want to be (more) sick, but I’ve always believed in knowing what can happen to your body even if it’s a bad thing. And maybe we caught this early.

All I can ask for now is this, though: please please please no more upchucking every day, or at leat only for a few days.

God, it’s been a miserable 10 days, but I still somehow feel better. Knowing does that. :)

(P.S. I’m not intending this as a ‘woe is me’ thing because sometimes people do care about how their friends are doing, and also because I am a hug supporter of listening to your body and judging WHEN not IF you go to the doctor about it. I hope this post helps that attitude somewhat.)

Anywho, we’ll see how the tests do (whenever that may be, because of Covid) and treagmt with meds a d adjust food until I learn more.

Take care. Be safe. Stay well!!!! ❤️

[sparetimeimagines]

They Surprise You Flowers | Haikyu!! Scenarios

Tags; Fluff, Soft Boys, Flowers

We need some fluff, I write a lot of angst and smut 😅🤷🏽‍♀️

Masterlist

Ushijima Wakatoshi

The door to the front of the office chimes, however you’re too busy to notice the commotion up front. Patients have flooded the office, with each and every room filled. Whispers around the clinic say “tall man with flowers” and “so handsome, I’m not surprised he’s taken”

But who’s the lucky girl he’s waiting on?

Ushijima waits by a window, holding a bouquet of wildflowers staring outside into his own oblivion.

“Did you hear about the guy up front?” Your friend stops by dropping a clipboard into the wall as you shake your head.

“A guy?” You raise a brow. “Nah I’ve been in the room with the crazy hypochondriac.”

“Yeah, he has flowers. Waiting on someone.”

You had to see who it was.

Having your coworker cover the rooms, you peak around the corner at the front, revealing a very familiar face.

“Toshi.” You smile walking past the front desk with the receptionist eyeing you with envy.

The tall, broad shouldered athlete turns away from the window. His smoldering, intimidating gaze softens when he sees you, scrubs scraping as you meet him. He immediately hands you the flowers, embracing your body in his, immediately making you feel small in the best way possible.

Eyes pierce your back as the handsome man watches you lovingly.

“I have missed you. We just got back.”

Toshi’s team was traveling with volleyball and those long days couldn’t have ended sooner. “You’re so beautiful.” He hugs you once more, kissing the top of your hair. “You smell good.”

“Thank you, Toshi.” A blush creeps along your cheeks.

The intimidating man hovers over you.

“I wanted to see you before I went home.” You notice the tired look in his eyes mixed along the love he holds for you. “I know you’re busy, however I’ll see you later.” The ends of his lips curl upward, gravitating closer to yours. “Does that sound fair?” He presses his lips on to yours, those you’ve been missing for so long.

“Fair enough.”

As he leaves, you return back to your desk with the bouquet of flowers and bragging rights for life.

“How did you bag someone like that?” Your coworker gasps and you shrug.

“He chose me.”

Tsukishima Kei

Your kids had Valentine’s boxes each and everyone decorated for your party. The girls wore their pretty pink and red dresses while the boys thought it was gross, but still had the coolest boxes for their valentines.

Heartshaped cookies and sweets in individually wrapped baggies spread on each desk, the room was ready for celebration. You observe the children running in glee around the classroom from behind your desk. You decided to wear a soft pink dress in leu of the holiday.

There’s a knock at the door, but nothing unexpected, your class was beginning to get a little rowdy, so maybe this was your warning.

You stand from your desk about to tend the door when it opens on its own.

In walks a bouquet of red roses with a card in the flowers. Large hands holding them catch your attention, leading to the blond who’s blushing baldy to match the bouquet.

“Kei.” A large smile spreads your lips generously. “What are you doing here?”

“What? Am I not allowed to see you? Are you gonna kick me out?” He teases handing you the flowers.

“Aww Kei, they’re so pretty! You shouldn’t have.” You cover your both and he attempts to pull them back.

“Find them. Give them back.”

“No! Stop Kei.” You stick your tongue out smelling the flowers.

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks looking at the kids. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Baby.”

“Happy Valentine’s. Does this mean I’m bringing supper?”

He smirks down on to you, a smug nod confirming your plans.

“Ms. Ln, is this your boyfriend?” One of the girls from your class asks and immediately Tsuki blushes.

“Yes mam it is.”

“Will you two get married and have a big fairy tale wedding?” Another chimes in and now you’re caught tongue tide.

“That’s right. She’s going to look very pretty and wear a big princess dress.” Kei reply catches you off guard, He loving your surprised reaction. The girl squeals and runs along to her friends as you turn to the blond.

“Kei, don’t tease my kids like that.”

“What?” He chuckles. “I wasn’t teasing, Babe.”

“What? So you’re saying you want to see me in a wedding dress?” You ask your boyfriend who throws his hands into his pockets looking off to the door.

“Possibly.”

“Mmhmm, sure Kei.” You shake your head and He kisses your cheek.

“Don’t forget dinner.” He winks walking out the door leaving you stunned.

Kageyama Tobio

You were used to the schedule by now. Wake up, go to your first job, a regular boring 8-5 job where you did paperwork and typed on a computer until clocking out. Then from 6-10 you served tables at the local cafe down from where you lived. With Kageyama being gone for months at a time playing volleyball, you had to stay busy. You needed to stay busy. You couldn’t bare the thought of missing him more than you had to.

Some girls were used to it, letting their significant other be gone for long periods of time. But not you.

Staying busy had your mind busy and that’s what you needed.

Plates balanced on your arms as you brought them to your table, you checked the drinks of another before going back into the kitchen for refills as another order comes up. The night had been so busy you hadn’t had to check your phone nonetheless catch your breath.

“Yn there’s people at the door.” Your manager calls you and immediately you book it to the front, seeing a man holding a bouquet of flowers looking out the door.

“Hey, how many will it be today?” Your basic routine came out of your mouth like usual and you begin to notice the man turning around looks oddly familiar.

“Err... just one, I’m looking for my girlfriend.” His naturally angry looking face softens as he sees you.

Forgetting about the menus, you crash into his body embracing him with the tightest of hugs.

“Oh my gosh! I- I’ve missed you so much.” You can’t help but sob into his chest, even if he is taken back by you.

Tobio stands there stiff as his hand gradually begins strumming along your back.

“When did you get back?” You release him as he hands you the bouquet of sunflowers. “Aww Tobio, thank you.”

He watches your face light up a tiny smirk at the ends growing.

“An hour ago. I had to shower.”

You rise to your tippy toes and kiss his lips.

“I wouldn’t of minded.”

“I would.”

He blushes his right hand coming up behind his neck.

You admire his appearance feeling your heart race.

“I had to see my beautiful girl.” He mumbles. “I missed you.”

You were used to his quiet nature, but today it hit you a little different, closer to when you first started to admire him. To you, he was perfect.

“So will it be one?” You grab a menu and he nods.

“Only if I can have that pretty girl.” He points past you and you smack him with a menu. “Fine fine... you will do.”

Akaashi Keiji

The sound of buzzing and groans echoed throughout the building as clients kept you busy. The shop has been extra busy lately. A special ran for the month with 15% off tattoos as long as they were from the artist’s books. You advertised around town and social media, bringing in a lot of business.

Your portfolio laid open across the table in your shop, and for a moment it finally felt like you were vacant.

The door chimes in the front as you were sanitizing your station.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Check out our portfolios.” You call, wiping down the bed from your last client.

Your parter left to grab lunch for the two of you leaving you alone in the shop.

Coming back up, you notice a bouquet of delicate peony’s in a vase on your counter and a dark headed man looking through your portfolio.

“I’m sorry sir, you have to be eighteen or have your parent’s permission.” You tease, your hands grabbing the portfolio.

“I’m sure we can strike a deal.”

Akaashi closes the book and leans in to kiss you. His hands slide around your waist as he embraces you.

“What’s this for?” You hum smelling a flower. He smiles shrugging, peppering your exposed skin in kisses.

“I just missed you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“No...” you smile turning back to him. “They’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you are.” He winks.

“Keiji... don’t tease.” You smack his chest causing him to chuckle.

“I’m not.”

You two relocate to the couch, you kicking your feet up in his lap.

“How much longer to have here?” He asks even though you know he knows the answer.

“A few hours.”

“Damn.” He frowns opening your portfolio to a certain page in particular. “I like this one.”

“That one right here?” He points to a grey scaled tattoo.

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should let me tattoo you.”

“Tattoo me?”

“Yeah! Just your knuckle. Look we can get matching ones. Please.”

“Flowers? In exchange for a tattoo? Sounds like it’s my lucky day.” He smirks cupping your face.

“Oh my gosh, really? You’ll let me?”

“Pretty girl, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hey now, don’t push your luck, Keiji. Nothing’s for free.”

“Well.” He starts. “I’ll pay you back later, little girl.” He kisses your lips once more and you lead him into the back.

“I believe something can be arranged.”

[thekitschdiet]

the kitsch diet part II

part one alr posted!! this chunk is about 3,000~ words long... let me know what u think :-) thank u all for all the luv already!!! looks like I really will hit 31 followers by easter!!!!!!!!

  Who is the Kitsch Girl? 

 I think this is more loosely defined, but The Chic Diet did a truly admirable way of reducing a girl to her YSL bag and her really skinny legs. Now, that implies an archetype, or a population in a specific location. I think kitschness is kind of the niche you fill when you’re not really much of anything else, sort of your own conglomerate of mainstream-specific. One major requirement, though, is being a little too into something somewhat uncool. And the whole illusion falls apart if you have any sort of outward insecurity. See, the Kitsch Girl is somewhat undefinable because she is so much of everything. She exists in multitudes, in a way that is also quite simple to understand; think of a list of axioms, or principles to live by. And now add a section to each one that says “but…” to make a collection of verified exceptions. Say, the kitsch girl will never wear jeans. But she thrifted this pair of vintage flares she just loves. She doesn’t reply to texts efficiently, but sometimes she will within a couple seconds. No mascara, no dinner forks, candles are to be collected not burned; but that was a gift, or something. It’s not personal, of course, those are just the contradictions she exists in. Don’t try to understand it, the enigma is essential to the facade. Or maybe she just lives like this, and her character is so homogenous with her inner world there’s no sense in trying to separate it. You have to have a little bit of an individuality complex about the whole ordeal, which is normally so eugh, but if you’re kitschy enough it works on you. Trust!The Kitsch girl is not someone unlikeable, but amiable and well heeled. I double checked that last one, assuming it meant liked by most, but apparently means affluent. I suppose that is an aspect of the kitsch girl too, having seemingly endless frivolous expenses with no real strain, but that’s not important right now. People that don’t like her think so out of jealousy, or something. Envious that her clothes are all kind of shake-it-up-esque and her highlights desperately need touching up, but she still seems so enthralled with the whole of life… How does she enjoy her own company so much when other people want to know her better? Doesn’t she feel weird about blowing people off to make a joke about reading Kafka in the bath? Why would she document her cluttered, unexciting life on Instagram so delicately, so vibrantly? Of course, no one would say this to her face because they are really baseless claims. She’s nice, generous, and valuable to have as a friend. Trade-offs exist, as they do with anyone. But I like thinking it’s easier to overlook a forgotten birthday when your kitschy best friend gave you a multi strand pearl necklace to celebrate the welcome breeze of June. Or some other made-up holiday. She is so unassuming if you’re not really looking. Girls want in on her inner circle. Or they just don’t care. Nothing wrong with being liked or thought of naught, for the most part. Boys are either enthralled or repulsed by her. Her doctor knows her as something of a hypochondriac, but only minorly. It’s just carpal tunnel, don’t worry… The sales staff at CVS turn a blind eye when she slips an eyeliner pencil into her tote bag. She shoplifts on occasion, just to see if she still knows how. But she is not a shoplifter. $9 here and $6.45 there doesn’t really add up to much. Everywhere she goes, she makes a tertiary friend or two. The term of friend is loosely used here, of course. But it is nice to tell a stranger you like her earrings. Or her phone case is so fun, is it Wildflower? The kitsch girl has an eye for this kind of detail. Simply put, she is sort of unspectacular. But in a way that makes you sort of wish you knew her better.

Phone cases

The phone case is, like, religious for the kitsch girl. Sorry, but there’s just no other accessory as flippant and expensive and single-purpose as a trendy little iPhone case with some semitacky stickers plastered over the design. I used to have an iPhone XS- extrasmall-  with like, 18 phone cases. It was kind of a sordid affair. I jest, but really… owning that many phone cases was kind of sick. We get it, you are frivolous and spontaneous and sooo stylish! Stop posting mirror selfies on your Instagram story, your crush isn’t going to see it. Kidding again. Having an extensive collection of phone cases is just so fun because while attainable, most people just simply do not partake in it. That makes you kitschy and unique. I really thought I had more to say about the IDEA of the phone case, but I guess in practice it is all very, very simple. You can slide your driver’s license in the back of a clear case. At what point does it stop being cool to have legal operational control of a vehicle? I don’t display mine because I don’t really like the photo. I look round. In the eyes but also just in general, swollen, unglamorous. Whatever. Not like I drive a Nissan or anything. I drive my *Mom’s* Nissan. Playing Bladee in the car seems sacrilegious. She would hate it.Back to phone cases. Sonix ones are cute but kind of overpriced retail- unless you have like, an iPhone 12 Pro Max or whatever the fuck is new this year, just go to Winner’s. They always have Xs and 11 cases. I had a cherry one for my previous phone, like the exact one Lana Del Rey had? Thank god I sold it before she got outed as a copfucker or whatever. Casetify is for an inadvertent flex. Flexing your lame, lame taste. Sorry, I know you bought it because you liked it, but what you failed to consider is just how un-Kitsch they are. SO common, and they advertise on Instagram. Sorry, I just can’t get into it! Kind of how I just never liked the Brandy Amara tanks. Or lowtop converse. Otterbox is just distressing. Like, if my boyfriend gave me an otterbox phone case I would probably break up with him because somebody clearly isn’t paying attention- one of my favorite, potentially overused joke is how Otterbox cases are the equivalent of orthopedic insoles. Sorry but if you have poor arch support or whatever, but no pain is worth giving up a good pair of Margiela slingback tabi heels. Obviously I couldn’t afford that right now because all loose income goes directly to Wildflower and my cig boy. But like, one day. I hope you want to punch me in the face a little bit after reading that.  If Wildflower isn’t your thing, at least have the decency to get a beaded phone strap. But not from String Ting. Pray tell you aren’t keeping score, but they are one of my several parasocial enemies. That should have been ME collaborating with Wildflower! Should have been ME mailing shit to Caroline Calloway (more on her later, but she is the only blue check I follow. I adore her! I was on her patreon for a bit I thinkl!!) …. Side note. Phone cases are cute but there is no way to properly protect your laptop without looking just absurd or colossally lame. The foam sleeves… ick.

Having the shittiest music taste ever

So like, here’s the thing. I’m an Apple Music user, which sort of reinstates my status as an unironic My Bloody Valentine Hyperpop Death Grips kinda gal. Read; volcel. My most recent conquest ended up being a huge L on my part, but also… I totally dodged a bullet. The guy had an iPhone 11 (female trait) and didn’t know who Rei Brown was, which just seemed suspicious given his Niche. I just know he had a “making out playlist” comprising entirely of like, Joji. Which isn’t a bad thing I guess but so unembarrassing it horseshoes back to being humiliating.Like I said. Having the worst music taste. It’s nice how subjective and deeply personal your music taste can be; no one really Needs to know you’re a die hard drainer. But there’s also no point in being a die-hard drainer and Not capitalizing off it somehow. I added it up and I have well over 150 hours of just Bladee and Yung Lean. Which is so yass? The more I write, using myself as a case study, I realize just how desperately jobless I am. And Yogenfruz isn’t even hiring! UGH!I think there is something very kitschy about liking hyperpop in the least ironic, least obnoxious way. Sort of feeds into a “I’m not like other girls” thing, but I mean… That’s kind of the idea of kitsch, isn’t it? Be a little different but also the very same as your lipgloss brethren?!Side note. If you make monthly playlists I am genuinely kind of afraid of you. That is just so organized!! I just make playlists with esoteric titles and then make a new one when I’m sick of the stuff on the last. I have exhausted most genres but I think my favorite is the “I’m wearing f****ng air forces and my teeth are SO white”. Guess what genre it is. Or don’t, but it’s probably what you think is. Okay, moving on….

Curating a scent

I like thinking I smell like mango and peach, Glossier you, whatever citrus is in that Lush shower jelly and mint 5Gum. But of course it is probably less distinct and just kind of generally fruit-floral-mint. Anyway. I think Glossier You is the perfect scent for anyone with a rather elementary understanding of the whole.. Perfume business. Every bottle of intentional fragrance I own was made via aesthetic choices… it really helps that Glossier You is so cute And so universal. Now, Glossier is kind of interesting to me because it really is at the intersection of cheugy and kitsch. Kind of basic, overplayed, unspectacular. But also…. Often popular things are popular because they are good. Glossier has excellent customer suurv, they ship SO fast (and no import duties! W!) and their stuff is just so sweet and nice if not unoriginal, in kind of the same way strawberry ice cream is. Which is still my favorite, of course, especially if there’s a vegan option. I was talking about Glossier. What the hell! It’s really worth trying out. A huge principle of kitsch is just… having as many possible layers and appendages to your composure as possible. And adding a signature scent just really completes that! When curating your own, I say this as a complete amateur, know-nothing; make it something that comes kind of naturally to Your Character. Like, I’m just not a Chanel No 5 kind of girl. Odds are you aren’t either. My bottle (before she asked for it back when I told her I didn’t use it, in exchange for a Nordstrom’s gift card) was from my grandmother. Ummm.. Yeah, I really have no expertise in curating a scent. But it is nice to have a signature. And having a bottle displayed on your dresser next to your aughties McDonald milkshake themed beanie baby and a handful of lip products is just way too fun! This is the kind of girl I am, everyone! Cluttered, but prioritizing pretty-delicate things!

Cheugyism

Cheugy is a relatively new word that has unfortunately wormed into my vocabulary to replace “uncouth”. Which I use to mean graceless or tacky, but if that isn’t what it means…. Don’t tell me. That would hurt more than weighing myself after a “feast” slash pastry binge at my dear Grandmothe’s house. Like I was saying. Cheugy. It’s sort of a fucked up concept to me because it is a critique on consumption, but not the pace or volume or magnitude of it. But rather… the idea of not being “good” enough at engaging in microtrends, or involvement in the fast paced fashion cycle. Don’t get me started on TikTok, or do, but… yeah,. No. That will require a cigarette because I’m so sorry, but writing a thinkpiece on social media is so lowbrow I would need to find about six ways to aesthetically counteract it…. Moving on.  I think the idea of cheugy is good, we really do need a word to simply and efficiently define “out of date/uninspired/lame”. But the way it is used to shame others for not liking the same trends or whatever is kind of gross. If you use cheugyism to put other people down and not as a neutral identifier umm… you will become what you fear. Sorry, that’s what happens. Some things that I think are cheugy or embarrassing, or just not part of my stylistic lexicon are… 1. Hooded or zip up clothing, or things with a large graphic on the back. Bingo if it's all three! I just can’t get behind it. Side note, my summer home outfit is brandy sweats and a tube top (Urban Outfitters tank I ripped the straps off) and a large cardigan that should have belonged to a stoner, but probably didn’t. I can dunk on bulky, uninspired clothes because I would honest to God NEVER be caught DEAD out of the house wearing any of it. I’m so serious. Next segment should be about the kitsch girl’s inadvertent affinity for diuretics. Remind me….. One of the ports of my laptop is dead. Not really sure what to do about that.

Eye makeup and what it means to me….

Personally, I am one of those people who never wears foundation and kind of has a complex about it. The kitsch girl wears fluffy eyelashes and owns a plethora of sparkly eyeliner. Or maybe she doesn’t, but she has something distinct and a little ritzy, if not haphazard. We all saw Euphoria and it like, totally imprinted on us. The way glitter sits on your face after a long day is so resplendent. When it’s shining and a little bit melted off from your long, semi-productive day… ugh! Just made for film. Pictures on film. But not the Prequel app. I keep getting fucking ads for it. But it’s so embarrassing. Like, isn’t the whole point of film the authenticity of the moment? The texture of the afternoon? Why would you fabricate that? Prequel is just so cheugy. More on that later. But anyhow. Wearing a ton of eye makeup kind of fits with the idea of film too I think. Like, look at you, in the moment. With your strip lash falling off! It’s all so tres-chic. Plus, for whatever reason, it’s kind of unique or notably dedicated to ~Pull up to the function~ with more eye makeup on than everyone else. Sorry, but it really doesn’t take that long! But yes I will gracefully accept your praise… it’s kind of like the dropshipping of complements if you think about it. Easy to source with little to no effort in the curating. Side note, lashes are like $20 for 40 weeks if you cut them in half and use each pair about 5 times. You could probably do more but I lose track. How the fuck is it almost June? I was trudging through the snow to check the mail for my Online Ceramics shirt just last week, I swear. The trick to cutting your lashes (the way I do it anyway) is pretty simple. Get out two lashes that are symmetrical. Find the middle and cut one slightly to the left and one slightly to the right. This means you have two sets (one set is a little more dramatic than the other but at least they are symmetrical) with longer outer edges. Glue this to the outer corner of your eye and you will look so Composed… obsessed with how this layers with three eyeliner tails (one traditional one pointing up and one pointing down directly below it, sort of like the tail light on a 2019 Lexus UX) and one below your eye, like a clown. Fun, irrelevant fact, is the first time I added this third tail to my eye makeup, my dad had just gotten home from the hospital because he was sure he had like appendicitis or something and it was actually.. Not that. Typical indie hypochondriac. He made me bring him cottage cheese on a plate with a teaspoon that evening. I put black pepper on it for flair, which he hated. Walking up and down stairs with a plate of cottage cheese is much more imprinting than most of the multiplication tables. Don’t forget to use a bright shimmer eyeshadow in your inner corner. It really opens up your eyes. I recommend Too Faced.  One time I got a little bit too high and tried to film an “editorial” makeup tutorial. You will never, ever, ever see that video. But I essentially covered my whole eyelid in the ABH shadow “palermo” and smudged out the edges with a tan Tartelette Toasted shade, coupled with my long-expired Milk Makeup holographic stick. Lopsided lashes and near-blinding eyeliner experience aside, it was kind of cool. My point is, you really cannot go wrong with an arsenal of shimmers, taupey mattes and a good eyeliner pen.

[idek20000]

So, story time...?

Three days ago, July 1st, in the morning I woke up with bad stomach pains, I didn't think much of it since I feel as if all people have days where their stomach feels messed up. Well, later that night, it had only gotten worse so my parents had given me some medicine to drink. Long story short I had ended up puking my guts out right after I had taken it.

The next day it had gotten a lot worse. I was hurting and I really couldn't stop throwing up. Eventually when my mom had gotten home from work she decided that she should take me to the doctors office to get me checked out.

They took urine and blood tests and turns out, I was really dehydrated, I had a high white blood cell count, and there might have been something wrong with my appendix, so they told me that I should go to the hospital to get a CT scan and an ultrasound. This all happened at about 7 PM.

Well we went home really quick and waited for my dad to get home. (my dad works late and he asked his boss if he could get off earlier, thankfully his boss is a good friend of his and knows me so he was just as worried.) Once my dad had gotten home, him being a major hypochondriac, was freaking out, which only freaked me out (thanks for that dad).

Anyways, we rush to the hospital, we get checked in at about 9 PM, a man asks me some questions about where the pain is, how bad the pain is on a scale, how tall I am, things like that. Then we waited till about 10 PM, I somehow managed to throw up in the middle of the waiting room in front of everyone after not puking for about an hour, that was pretty embarrassing, and then a doctor called me back, I got to go in a wheelchair to get there, that was kinda cool. The doctor asked me questions, and then sent me to a room.

I got to a room and the nurses had asked me questions like where the pain is, what the other doctors said, things like that. Well I had already gotten blood taken in my left arm (and it was bruised) at the other place so they tried to take it from my right arm. Well the nurse missed my vain so then she had to go back to the other arm and put an IV in that arm so that was fun.

They gave me medicine to keep me from being nauseous, and also gave me some stuff in my IV that kept me hydrated. Well we wait till about 11, at the time my mom was outside on the phone with my grandmother giving her updates and my dad was using the bathroom, well the nurse comes in as SOON as I'm alone and tells me that the CT scan is ready for me. Fortunately, she was really nice and let me wait until my dad got back for her to take me to the CT scan. When he got back, she wheeled me over to the room to get my scan.

(If you don't know what a CT scan is, it's this thing where you lay down and they move your body what kinda looks like a huge donut to get a X-ray)

This all happened at about 12 AM. I get back and we wait until about 1:30 AM and then results finally come.

Turns out, I'm all good! My body is currently fighting off a stomach virus and is just going through inflammation from fighting it. They gave me medicine, told me to take it easy, said that I could take pain medicine if needed, and we left at about 2 AM. I finally ate for the first time in a day and I went to sleep.

I woke up this morning, obviously still in pain, except after taking the medicine I feel a bit better, now the pain only really remains in my right side. I can finally eat pretty normally, and I'm not throwing up, so that's always good.

Sorry about the kinda depressing post, just kinda felt like sharing lol. Anyways, drink water and take care of your body, unless you wanna end up like me. 👍

[missjanjie]

Can't Fight the Moonlight | MoMo

this is a commission for @derpyavocado who requested a monét/monique werewolf x vampire au. i hope i did it justice!

Ship: MoMo (Monét X Change/Monique Heart) Word Count: 2.6k Rating: E

comission info | ko-fi

“I have a question,” Brianna prompted as she helped Bob and Monét finish packing for their weekend trip upstate. “When you drink from a dear, are you worried about getting ticks? Or Lyme disease?”

Monét stared blankly at her friend. “Bitch, we’re already dead, the fuck do you think a bug or the diseases they carry is gonna do to us?”

Bob snorted. “Leave it to Cracker to be a hypochondriac about a couple of dead people,” she shook her head as she zipped up the last bag.

“Hey, I think it’s a valid question,” she huffed. “Anyway, you two have fun on your trip, I’ll take good care of Colleen,” she promised, cocking her head towards the cat curled up on one of the pillows on Monét’s bed.

The two vampires laughed it off, knowing their friend was, if nothing else, well-intended. And by the time they checked into their hotel room, the exchange was no longer lingering in their minds. Their hunt was far more important. It was a monthly endeavor they undertook to stock up on deer blood to help supplement their diet. Like many vampires, they were often inclined to pursue human prey, but in a busy city like Manhattan, it was a high-risk hunt every time. And while animal blood was less satisfying, the sheer abundance made it worthwhile.

“My god, am I glad we don’t eat food, look at how overpriced this shit is,” Bob remarked, handing Monét the room service menu.

“Put that dumb shit away,” Monét laughed. “We gotta rest up before tonight.”

“We literally don’t.”

She scoffed. “You have no sense of drama, I don’t know why I fucking bother,” she jokingly chastised, making Bob roll her eyes in response.

-

It was just past midnight. The full moon was out and the woods were near silent, save for crickets chirping and the gentle breeze rattling the leaves. Bob and Monét had set their starting point and parted ways with the intent of reconvening once they had gathered the surplus blood.

Not long after she started her careful prowling, Monét set her sights on a deer meandering through the woods. She crept forward, stalking her prey with the skill that had come naturally over the past century. She was closing in, just about to pounce…

At the last split second, a four-legged figure came out of seemingly nowhere and tackled the deer to the ground, incapacitating it upon impact. Monét hardly had the chance to process what had happened before the figure turned on her, pushing her out of the way and pinning her to the ground. “What the fuck are you–”

Something between a hand and a paw came down over her mouth. The creature that had physically bested her let out a low snarl, making it clear that while there was no intent to harm her, she would be foolish if she attempted to move from underneath her.

Despite the urge to bite the hand that silenced her, Monét gave in, and when she heard, then saw the pack of wolves descend upon the deer and devour it, she understood. In an unusual turn of events, a werewolf went out of their way to protect her from the pack. And she had to acknowledge that despite the tension that flared up between the two species, she had acted in good faith. So she lay silent until the pack dispersed. “I think the coast is clear,” she remarked dryly.

“God, you guys are annoying,” the werewolf muttered as she got off of her. “You guys always have that attitude,” she remarked. “Name’s Monique, not that you bothered to ask,” as she spoke, she transformed back into her human form, her frame now a bit more lithe than Monét’s, the clothes she had on now loose on her body, almost as if she had wandered out into the woods in her pajamas.

Monét looked her over and felt a sense of surprise at the feelings that stirred up. Never in her afterlife had she found herself attracted to a werewolf, it was damn near blasphemy as far as she and most other vampires were concerned. But Monique had a pretty face and a nice body, she would’ve been lying to herself if she claimed otherwise. None of that was said out loud, of course, instead she simply replied with ���Monét.”

Monique nodded, then glanced back in the direction her pack had run off in. “I had to do what I had to do, you wouldn’t have stood a chance against them.”

“You owe me a deer.”

“Goddamn entitled ass vampire…” her voice trailed off. “Is that what the bag’s for?”

She nodded. “Unlike y’all, we’re not ravenous. A couple fully drained deer last the better part of a month.” Sure, that was with the help of the occasional human victim, but that was neither here nor there.

Monique rolled her eyes. “You’re not sharing the deer with six other pack members,” she pointed out. “Look, let’s track down another couple deer and call it a night so I can get on with my life and you can get on with your… lack thereof.”

This time, Monét fought the urge to make another sarcastic remark. Instead, for one night only, she teamed up with a werewolf for her hunt. And, to be fair, it was much more efficient than taking it on by herself, or even with Bob. By the time she filled up her last thermos, she would even consider herself impressed. “That went better than expected.”

“Because your expectations were so high?” Monique retorted wryly. “You come out here by yourself often?”

“I come here with my friend,” she told her. “My girl takes forever, I better head back and get these in the fridge, no point in waiting. You can come if you want. But you probably have to get back to your pack.”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Nah, they know I’m good for it,” she assured, deciding to make the trip back to Monét’s hotel room with her. “Damn, y’all shelled out for this.”

“We have connections,” Monét replied with a light laugh, unloading the thermoses into the mini-fridge. “And it’s still cheaper than basically any hotel in the city.”

“Oh, she’s a city vamp. That don’t surprise me, really,” she admitted as she unceremoniously threw herself onto the bed.

She arched her brow. “Make yourself at home,” she quipped, her eyes raking over Monique’s body.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer. And at least I’ll show up on camera.”

“Bitch, I will too, it’s the digital age!”

Monique laughed. “Oooh, touchy subject, huh?”

Monét clicked her tongue and got onto the bed, positioning herself on top of Monique, bracketing her between her arms. “She thinks she’s cute, huh? That she had a little ‘gotcha’ moment? Baby, I don’t play like that.”

“Then how do you play, hm?” she questioned, moving a hand up to rest on Monét’s face, tapping lightly. “Because it seems to me like what you don’t play is fair.”

“No one ever got anywhere by playing fair.” She traced her finger from the base of Monique’s neck down her chest, her shirt pushed down as she dragged between her breasts. The fact that they absolutely should not be doing this sparked arousal deep inside her, and by looking in her eyes, she knew the feeling was mutual. So, she closed the distance between them with a deep, heated kiss. “We have to make this quick.”

Monique’s breath hitched in her throat at the kiss. “So long as you keep them fangs in your head, we can make it work,” she retorted before their lips reconnected, this time with more passion and less control. Their hands wandered each other’s bodies, making quick work of shedding any and all clothing, tossing them off to the side.

Monét rolled her eyes, but there was a tinge of fondness in her expression. “You just don’t know when to fuckin’ quit, do you?” But in response, she made a show of baring, then retracting her fangs and kissed down Monique’s neck and bit down to leave a hickey, demonstrating her control, her ability to not use her fangs and not pierce her skin, that she had control and was more than ready to exert it. As she kissed and sucked at her neck, she moved a hand down Monique’s body, stopping to gently ease a finger inside of her with slow thrusts.

And Monique couldn’t have pretended she didn’t like it if she tried. Her head pressed back into the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut and a breathy moan escaped. Her hips bucked up towards the contact, urging Monét on for more and moaning louder when she was rewarded with another finger being thrust into her.

After leaving several marks over the expanse of Monique’s neck and collarbone, Monét moved back up to kiss her lips, her tongue slipping past and intertwining with the other woman’s. She thrust faster and deeper, curling and scissoring her fingers. Her other hand moved between Monique’s legs as well, rubbing her clit in time with her ministrations. She was in tune with Monique’s body, noticing when she was about to come and increasing the intensity just enough to push her over the edge.

Monique barely allowed herself to catch her breath before she flipped Monét over, securing her position on top. She looked deeply into her eyes, silently conveying that she wasn’t about to leave without returning the favor, and when she got a nod of approval, she moved her head between her thighs and traced her tongue along her slit before easing her tongue in. She knew she didn’t have time to waste teasing, so she started thrusting her tongue rapidly and deeply.

Monét gave up any pretenses of being cool and coy. She moaned out loudly, she gripped her hand into Monique’s hair and pushed her hips up. Her body rocked and writhed in tandem with the skilled movements of her tongue. Breathy praise spilled from her lips and became more high-pitched and strained when she felt her orgasm approach, cursing sharply once it hit.

There were a few beats of silence, the two of them laying naked as their brains and bodies reconnected. “I… you need to go. She’ll be back any minute now.”

“Right,” Monique exhaled, getting out of bed and throwing her clothes on. She stared out the window, eyes fixating on the moon as she willed herself to transform before opening the door to step onto the balcony.

“What the hell are you doing?” she bolted upright, “we’re on the fifth floor!”

But Monique disregarded her concern and leaped from the railing, and only her distinct howl confirmed to Monét that she was fine as she disappeared into the night.

-

Bob watched her friend intently, lips pursed. “Okay, I’ll bite,” she prompted. “It’s been three days since we got home and you’ve been weird as fuck. What’s wrong? You bite a bad deer?”

Monét groaned because if there was one thing she knew about Bob, it was that she was the most stubborn person she had ever met. She knew that once the subject was brought up, it wouldn’t be dropped until she offered an acceptable explanation. “No, I… bit something else. Something I didn’t drink from. Someone.”

This piqued her interest immediately. “Oh, so you got a little freaky, huh? What’s the tea? What’s got you feeling some type of way?”

There were a few tense beats of silence before Monét confessed. “It’s just that… it was a werewolf. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since.”

It was rare for Bob to be rendered speechless, but that managed to do the trick. She stared at her, mouth agape. “I don’t even know who you are anymore,” she shook her head. “Alright, what’s her name? We’re gonna sort this shit out.”

“Her name’s Monique. All I know is she and her pack live near where we were,” she said, then sighed. “You’re gonna call Naomi, aren’t you?”

Bob scoffed. “Of course I’m going to call Naomi, what do you think this is?” Naomi was not only their friend, but their resident expert on all things supernatural, despite being a human herself. If there was anyone that would be able to track down this werewolf and her clan, that would be the person to see.

And Monét knew better than to bother arguing and resigned herself to her fate. Sure enough, it had barely taken two full days for Naomi to report back to them with all of the information they would need: Monique Heart was the beta of her pack, one with a lineage that extended back nearly two centuries.

“Well damn,” Bob chuckled, “I guess if you had to go for a wolf, at least you picked a purebred. Though you could’ve gone for an alpha. I expected a little more from you.”

“Shut up,” Monét rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t planning on any of this. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Talk to her.”

She scoffed. “Absolutely not. It was a one time… lapse in judgement. Just because she’s been on my mind doesn’t mean I need to do anything about it. I’ve hooked up with an array of questionable women in my time, there’s no reason for this to be any different.”

Bob arched her brows, unconvinced. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

-

Though Monét never said so out loud, she ended up making an excursion upstate on her own to track down Monique. Granted, it didn’t take as much effort as it would have however many decades ago. She was simply able to reach out to her over social media, and they had picked a spot to meet. “You couldn’t show up alone?” she asked when she sat down next to Monique on a park bench.

Monique glanced back at the two women clearly watching them from a bench on the other side of the asphalt path that ran throughout the park. “Our alpha doesn’t trust vampires. And let’s face it, you can’t blame her.” The two women were the gamma and one of the warriors of the pack, both silent with piercing gazes. “You wanna tell me why we’re here though?”

Monét sighed heavily. “Listen, I’m not about corny, cliche romantic shit but… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you over the past week. I’ve even tried to sleep to avoid letting you cross my mind, but nothing’s seemed to work. And I understand there’s absolutely no reason why we should pursue anything together, but I would be remiss if I didn’t-”

Her speech was cut off by Monique cupping her face and pressing a deep kiss to her lips. “Why are you vampires so fucking dramatic?” she asked against her lips. “Look, my kin and your kin aren’t ever gonna get along, but they’re still our family and they’re just gonna have to deal with whatever fucked up inter-species decisions we make.”

The bluntness caught Monét off guard, but she appreciated it. She was never one to be coy or beat around the bush, and as jarring as it was, she admired it. In fact, she might even say she found it attractive. “So, we’re doing this? Whatever ‘this’ is?”

“You ask too many questions,” Monique chuckled. “But yeah, I can take it if you can,” she offered, her expression more gentle and voice more relaxed.

That was all Monét needed to hear. Her arms looped around Monique’s waist and she pressed another kiss to her lips. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had set her mind into such a whirlwind, but she quickly realized she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[originalhybridloverfics]

Don’t Give Up Now - Ch4

The first thing Eda did when she got off work was go shopping for a new dress. She wanted something to knock Serkan’s ass off but also a dress that meant something. 

She wanted him to be unable to focus on anything but her. 

Serkan said he was here for work but she was not stupid. He is here for another reason. 

Work was just an excuse and Eda refused to let him crawl beneath her skin again with false pretenses. 

They have been down that road before and she was not going to let it happen again.

She looked at herself in the floor-length mirror. She straightened her hair. It flowed down her back in long dark strands. She wore a light red eyeshadow, her lashes long and dark, her lips painted a vivid red. 

She looked at her curves encased in the red fabric. 

When she saw the flirty red mini dress in the store, she knew it was the one. 

The V-neckline accentuated her chest, the criss-cross spaghetti straps bared the smoothed skin of her shoulders and back. The ruched and wrapped bodice clung to her every curve like a second skin, the short hemline stopped mid-thigh leaving her long legs on display. 

She paired the dress with a pair of gold strappy heels.

Eda smiled at her reflection in approval. She looked amazing and if Serkan didn’t think so he was either blind or stupid. 

Or a completely unfeeling Robot which was entirely possible. He was, after all, Serkan Robot Bolat.

She grabbed her long trench coat, slipping it on over her shoulders, then her bag, and headed out the door. 

Serkan had better come compared because she was not going to make any of this easier on him. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Serkan waited, his fingers tapping impatiently against the table cloth.

He looked at his phone contemplating if he should call her but something told him to look up. 

A feeling beneath his skin that made him aware of everything but most of all, aware of her. 

He looked up and she stood in the doorway dressed in a trench coat, her hair straightened to perfection and flowing down around her. 

She strode forward and he stood, straightening his jacket. 

“I was starting to think you stood me up,” Serkan confessed. 

“I said I would be here and I am,” Eda replied, trying to ignore how good he looked in his vest and suit. She swore no man could make a vest look sexy the way Serkan did. 

She hated that she was still so damn attracted to him and she hated him for still having that effect on her.  

Serkan fought the urge to walk around the table and wrap his arms around her. Instead, he gestured for her to have a seat. 

Eda slipped off her coat and Serkan nearly swallowed his tongue. 

God, she was so fucking gorgeous. A goddess standing before him in all her beauty. 

She was trying to kill him faster than the tumor pressing down on his brain. 

He forced the morbid thought of his impending death away. 

Eda slid into her seat loving Serkan’s reaction to her dress. 

“You look stunning.” Serkan complimented, re-taking his seat. 

“Serkan, keep your compliments to yourself, and let’s get down to business.” Eda signaled for the waiter. 

“I thought we could catch up before discussing the business details.” Serkan straightened his jacket. 

“You thought wrong. This is a business dinner, therefore the only thing we will be discussing is dinner.” Eda plastered a fake smile on her face as the waiter reached their table. 

“What can I get you?” The waiter inquired. 

“I will have the mozzarella chicken, and breadsticks,” Eda answered. 

“I’ll have the same, with added sauce for the breadsticks. And your best bottle of wine.” Serkan hadn’t bothered to look at the menu.

“Very well,” The waiter scribbled their order down and walked away. 

“Since when do you eat foods with so many spices?” Eda asked, surprised that he wanted the same as her. 

“I recently decided to experience all the things I denied myself,” Serkan answered. 

“I don’t believe it,” said Eda. “What happened to the man who was basically a hypochondriac? The man that checks his pulse whenever he so much as coughs?”

“He realized you had to live life minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. Moment by moment.”

His words surprised Eda. “And what caused this change?”

Serkan looked at not saying anything. He wouldn’t tell her the reason for his change in perspective. She did not need to know. Ignorance was bliss. 

He didn’t want her to suffer from the knowledge and a part of her didn’t think he could survive if her resentment caused her to not care enough about him that he was dying. Or worse, if she cared enough to try and convince him to seek treatment. 

He couldn’t do that. He refused to put the few people in his life who cared about him through that kind of pain. 

“People change,” Serkan said finally. 

Eda felt her stomach twist at the look in his eye. It was sad in a way she had never seen before. Defeated almost. There was acceptance on his face that for the life of her she couldn’t understand. 

She felt like she was missing something. Maybe it had to do with what she overheard from Engin and Piril. Eda couldn’t be sure. She didn’t know. 

She hated not knowing and it frustrated her. 

“Whoever inspired the change, I’m thinking I should thank them. They have made you more tolerable.” Eda said and regretted the words immediately. They were harsh and she didn’t mean them but she was angry. However, the look of genuine hurt on Serkan’s face had her wanting to take the words back. 

“I’ll be sure to thank them for you,” Serkan wondered how did one go about thanking a tumor for aspiring them to change. 

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Eda knew when to apologize for her mistakes. “It was mean spirited. I didn’t come here to fight. It probably doesn’t sound that way but I didn’t. I came here to work.” 

“Do you enjoy working here in Italy?” Serkan asked. “With Efe?” 

“I do. Efe has been a great boss and an even better teacher. And Italy has been everything I dreamed it would be.” Eda answered, her anger slowly slipping away as she sat with Serkan. 

“Tell me about it,” Serkan requested. “Tell me everything you love about it.”

Eda found herself telling him everything as they enjoyed their food. How she spent her Sundays at the library in a quiet corner reading a book. How at night she would take walks along the park. She found an orphanage that she volunteered at on Saturdays, taking care of its garden. How she ate her favorite ice creams out on her terrace looking up at the stars. How wherever she had a bad day, she would walk by the waterfront, smell the sea, watch the waves. Some nights she liked to go to her favorite place. It was a cliffside, covered in flowers. She liked to sit beneath the tree and just watch the sea, especially when the sun was setting and the sky was full of pink dusky hues. 

“It’s unbelievably beautiful,” Eda said, her eyes shining with life and excitement. 

Serkan had been listening to her intently, feeling that warmth, that light surrounding him, her voice a soothing balm to his aching soul. 

“Yes, it is.” Serkan agreed, his vision consisting only of her. 

Eda smiled and watched as Serkan’s lips pulled into one, matching hers. 

And just like that, she realized what she was doing. 

She was having dinner with Serkan like it was a fucking date. They hadn’t even talked about the business aspects of this dinner. 

They talked about her and her life for the past hour. He had no right to know any of that. 

Her smile was gone as she glared at him. Serkan noticed the change immediately. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brow furrowing. 

“I see what you’re doing and you had me. I forgot how persuasive you can be.” She shook her head. “We are here for work. So let’s discuss business.” 

“Eda-”

“No,” Eda cut him off abruptly. “Either we get to the business portion of this dinner or I get up and leave. Your choice, Serkan.” 

Serkan stared at her quietly before finally saying. “Okay. Okay.” 

“Tell me about your house." Eda all but ordered.

“The guest room has the best view. I want to make it my bedroom. I want a terrace with pillows and curtains, somewhere I can relax outside and enjoy the star. I want a garden filled with flowers and beauty. I want a woman’s touch in my home.” Serkan listed off, his eyes never leaving hers. 

Eda looked at him, her glare deepening. “You are going to model your house the way I wanted my own home?”

“Yes.” Serkan nodded. “You have good ideas.” 

“Really?” Eda asked doubtfully. 

“Yes, really. You were always so talented.” Serkan praised. 

Eda wanted to believe his compliments were sincere but it just wasn’t that simple with him. She didn’t know why he was really there and couldn’t bring herself to believe his sweet words were anything but reaching whatever endgame he had in mind. 

“Stop, just stop, Serkan,” Eda said, pushing her now empty plate away from her. 

“What?” Serkan's forehead creased in confusion. 

“Stop with the compliments, the sweet words, the charm, all of it,”  Eda told him. 

“I was just being honest. I mean, look at where you are now. You’re a landscape architect and you did it all on your own. You finally got your degree and you wasted no time in making waves professionally. Your name has come up more than once whenever the topic of a good landscape architect in Italy was mentioned.” 

Eda's lips lifted into a smile, her cheeks flushing. She enjoyed her success. 

“You were always meant for big things, Eda. I hated that you left but I am so proud of how far you’ve come.” 

“You know why I left, the reasons haven’t changed.” Eda's smile was gone. “How long are you staying in Italy.” 

“Indefinitely,” Serkan answered. “I may never leave here.” 

“No, you can’t stay here. You have to finish your business here and then you leave.  Go home, back to Istanbul.” Eda insisted. 

“I won’t leave, Eda,” Serkan said. “I can’t.” 

“Why? What’s so important that you dropped everything to come here?” Eda demanded.” 

“You,” Serkan said without hesitation. 

Eda’s heart thudded in her chest at his words and she hated it. “I have to go,” she said abruptly. 

“But we haven’t had dessert yet,” Serkan protested. 

“I don’t care. This night is over. We have discussed the business part and that is all this dinner was meant to be. Nothing more. I told you that and I meant it.” Eda stood up. “No amount of sweet words or compliments is going to change anything with us. There is nothing between us anymore and I don’t want there to be.” 

“Eda.” Serkan stood. “Please just give me one night. One night to show you that things have changed. I have changed and things can be different between us.” 

“No,” Eda pulled out money from her clutch, tossing it on the table, not allowing Serkan to pay for dinner. “Goodbye, Serkan.”

“Eda,” Serkan moved to follow her but stopped suddenly, feeling dizzy. 

Serkan eased back into his seat rubbing at his temple as his head started to hurt. He hated that the pain had become quite familiar. 

Serkan signaled for the waiter and ordered something stronger to drink and called himself a taxi. 

A few moments later, the waiter had returned his drink and took a big swig from the glass. 

This was not how he wanted the dinner to end. He had hoped after dinner to invite Eda for a walk with Sirius. He wanted to walk with her underneath the stars, have her smile at him. He wanted things to be like old times when he knew nothing of his father’s mistakes and he was just a man madly in love with a woman who had changed his world and became the center of it without him even realizing it. 

Serkan down the rest of his drink. 

This was going to be harder than he imagined it was going to be. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Eda closed the door to her apartment behind her, she tossed her clutch on the end table and headed straight for her bedroom. She sat down at her vanity. Slipping off her shoes, she took off her jewelry before walking into her bathroom and shedding her dress. 

After a quick shower, she pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a zipped up hoodie. 

She heard the faint noise of the phone and retrieved it from her clutch. It was a text from Efe asking about the business dinner she had with Serkan. 

She texted him back that she got the details that Serkan wanted and would write it into a client dossier and would have it on his desk by morning. 

She walked out onto her terrace, her phone clutched in her hand. 

She wanted to know why Serkan was here but it was clear he was not going to tell her why that was. 

Maybe Ceren would know. If he was really here for business she should know. She was his lawyer.

Eda debated if she should put her friend in the middle of the issues between her and Serkan but ultimately her need to know won out. 

She dialed Ceren and pressed her phone to her ear. Her friend answered on the third ring. 

“Eda,” 

Eda could hear the smile in her friend’s voice. 

“Ceren, hi. I’m sorry if it's late.” Eda apologized, realizing it was almost midnight in Istanbul.

“No, it’s fine. How are you?” Ceren asked. 

“Good, Good.” Eda bit her lip. 

“Eda,” Ceren said. 

“Not so good. Serkan is here.” Eda confessed. 

“At your house?” Ceren asked, surprised. 

“No,” Eda shook her head even though Ceren couldn’t see it. “In Italy.”

“Oh. Why is he there?” Ceren inquired. 

“That’s what I was going to ask you? He says he's here for business but if that were true you would know, wouldn't you? You're his lawyer.” 

“Eda, I can’t discuss Serkan’s business ventures with you,” Ceren told her. 

“I know,” Eda sighed. “I just, something is telling me he’s not here for business. He’s using it as an excuse.” 

“An excuse for what?” Ceren asked. “To get close to you?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Eda said.

“Could it be he’s still in love with you?” Ceren suggested. 

“No. It’s been years, Ceren.” Eda argued. 

“So does that mean because of how long it’s been you no longer feel anything for him?” Ceren questioned. 

“No,” Eda said. “I mean, I feel anger and... And..”

“Eda, it’s okay if you still feel something for him. You were in love.” Ceren said. 

“This isn’t about what I may or may not feel for Serkan,” Eda said, she didn’t want to talk about her feelings. 

“Then what is this about?” Ceren asked. 

“I think there’s something more going on here. He didn’t come alone. Piril, Engin, and Leila are with him. Something else is going on here.” Eda said. 

Ceren was quiet for a long time that made Eda think maybe she had dropped the call. 

“Ceren?”

“Eda, I don’t think you’re wrong. Serkan has been making some changes lately.” Ceren said. 

“Changes?” Eda repeated. “What kind of changes?” 

“I can’t tell you. Serkan is my client and as my client, I cannot break his confidence.” Ceren told her, 

“What can you tell me?” Eda asked. 

“I feel there is something more going on with Serkan. I think it’s serious more than either of us could know. Eda, I’ve gotten to know Serkan over the years that you’ve been in Italy. He’s a good person at heart and I don’t think he’s ever moved on from you so I have to ask you something.” 

“What is it?” Eda asked, surprised by Ceren’s words. 

“Be kind to him, Eda. I feel you are right and Serkan is there for a reason and it’s not business. Let the past go, Eda, and give him a chance. Maybe then you can find out the actual reason he is there.” 

“Yeah, Okay,” Eda said her goodbyes to Ceren and ended the call. 

Eda stared out at the city lights decorating the night sky pondering over Ceren's words. 

After a moment of contemplation, she swipes her thumb across her phone screen and found Serkan’s number. 

Her finger hovered over the call button with indecision. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

When Serkan got back to the large condo he had bought for himself until his house was ready, he avoided calls from everyone wanting to be left alone. He moved out to his bedroom terrace with a bottle of alcohol and a shot glass. He took a seat on the lounge chair, pouring himself a shot. 

Sirius came to him, sitting at his feet, and rested the top of his head on his knee. 

Serkan ran his hand through Sirius's scruff, itching behind his ears. 

Since he had gotten sick, it was rare for Sirius to leave his side when he was home. 

Eda had looked so beautiful tonight. Her mere presence lit up his world. It didn’t matter that she was angry with him, just hearing her voice, looking into her eyes, being around her again, it was like being able to breathe again. 

It was clear she was not going to make any of this easy on him but again, he didn’t care. She was worth the effort. 

She was worth everything. 

And if he was going to die then he wanted to be surrounded by her. 

He lifted a hand to rub at his pounding head just as his phone ranged. 

He retrieved his phone from his pocket and a picture of Eda flashed across his screen. 

He was stunned for a moment that she was calling him, especially after the way she had walked away from him at dinner. 

He stared so long he realized any second now the call would go to voicemail. He quickly swiped the answer button and pressed his cell to his ear. 

Heart pounding hard in his chest he held his breath.

Waiting.

[caffeinated-chaos-bean]

Mid-2021 Blog Update

Hey guys.

So... It’s been a while. Quite a while... and I want to lay some things out as to why I’ve been gone and the blog has practically been dead in the water for half a year, if not for a whole year. 

I want you to know that what I’m going to say will be in heavy detail. I’m comfortable speaking on it, and what information doesn’t just include me will be using either public details that I know I can share or will be put in a short and sweet manner.

This is your trigger warning: If you need to click off or scroll past due to the mention of extremely bad mental health, toxic relationships and households, the mention of depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts, please do so now.

. . .

First off, I’ve lessened the amount of time I’ve been online due to my mental health. I was put on antidepressants as well as told to take anti-anxiety gummies in November and will be weaned off of those starting this October. A lot of my family and relationship drama on top of the world practically shutting down and going into chaos thanks to COVID-19 just took a major toll on me. With so much on my shoulders, stress from living with said things on my shoulders, unsupportive family members, and an emotionally distant partner, I was at one of the lowest points in the life. I’d never had to be on mood-related medication in my life until last November. I’d always been able to handle what was thrown at me, but mid- to late-2020 was what knocked me down that low for the first time in my life. Suicidal thoughts came and went (they weren’t often, only when I couldn’t bottle my emotions up any longer but didn’t have a way to express them either), but even when they did, I knew that it was just in my head. I never once chose to act on them, because to me, that is not a way to solve a problem or escape your inner demons. All it does it put your personal suffering onto those around you -- your friends, family, and those who cared about you even when you don’t see it -- and it doesn’t do anyone any good. When my doctor asked me about suicide, that’s the very explanation I gave her. Yes, they happened, but I’d never act on them; it’s not a way out and it puts your pain onto others and only worsens the situation for the long-term.

Aside from that, though... I move on to other personal reasons for my absence that helped trigger what was mentioned above. Mid-August of 2019, my then fiancé's mother was murdered by two 17yr old boys of whom she and their family knew. Going off the information that was made public, one boy had mixed meth with marijuana prior to the killing. He claimed that my fiancé’s mother mouthed off and made a derogatory comment about his deceased mother, thus sparking the incident. While he claims to have only stabbed her once, the autopsy report shows that her head/face and upper torso were “hacked, slashed, and chopped” repeatedly with “various sharp, bladed objects”. Not only did they murder her, the two individuals also set the grass around her body on fire along with her home. When we found out about this having happened, I had no idea how bad it would have turned my relationship upside-down. My now ex-fiancé didn’t come from a great childhood, there was abuse and CPS, among other things. But he had managed and was a good person. He could make me laugh and tear up at his jokes, sang beautifully, and did everything to make those around him happy. When he lost his mom, it broke him. It shattered his very being, because not only did he know the two who caused it to happen, he also was unable to reconcile and make amends with his mother for what he went through as a child. He was robbed of being able to forgive and be on good terms with her, and it broke him. He stopped communicating with family, he took bereavement after being pulled from work by family the day it was confirmed to be his mother only to to fired 3 months down the line when he tried to go back (fuck Walmart for that btw), and was slowly becoming a hypochondriac. He stopped talking to me, he would cry in his sleep, and grief made him lash out as was expected. But as the days dragged on, his motivation and care towards finding a new job dwindled. He and my mother would fight endlessly and I was caught in the middle of it, as we all were in one household. There were times in which I would keep my phone on my leg and record for my own personal documentation should I need it due to how bad my own mother would belittle me, belittle my ex behind his back, and just scream and go off. When I’d turn to my ex for comfort, he wasn’t much help due to his own deteriorating mental health. He took to discord, specifically the Vampire the Masquerade community, as his escape from reality. He eventually would hardly talk to me at all, show no compassion, and at times I tried to speak with him about getting a new job or suggesting part-time ones that I felt would be easy and as stress-free as possible for him, I would be shooed away without a word; if I tried to further my attempt to have the conversation, he eventually got an attitude and would just say “Bye!” over and over again while shooing with his hand to get me to leave. There were many days where I’d get off work and sit in the bathroom for an hour and cry because of my frustration and how I felt stuck between two people I cared about deeply (ie. my ex and my mother).

My ex has since moved out and no longer lived with us. He and I are no longer together, and he has cut off all communication to me along with his family. He isn’t living in California anymore, really. He met up with discord friends and is in another state. That’s the last I heard from him. That’s the last his family heard. He doesn’t talk to us or attempt to reach out or respond when his family reaches out. I still very much care about him and want him to get better, but if he has to do so by being away from everyone, then so be it.

While I was letting - or shutting out, rather - the emotions I was feeling once he officially moved out, I relapsed with my anxiety tick; with my trichotillomania. I have a good number of smaller, thinned out spots in my hair from unconsciously pulling out strands of hair when my emotions didn’t know how to regulate. I’m still fighting to get this under control, as I do still catch myself doing it and so does my mother. It currently is not as bad as when my ex first moved out and I had to adjust back into sleeping alone and without someone next to me, but I do still pull. I am looking into trying to get my sister to order me a HabbitAware bracelet for me this Christmas in order to help get my tick back under control. I know its something I will live with forever and go in and out of doing, as there is no cure or medication to curb trichotillomania, but its something to help me be more aware of how often I do pull and to train it to no longer be a muscle memory response.

Most recently, I’ve had to stop taking melatonin. I’ve had bouts of insomnia since my ex left, and eventually I took enough melatonin to not only build an immunity to it but also a slight dependence. I was taking more than I should have been, and I noticed the signs of it and have stopped taking melatonin altogether. Due to this, I have switched to hempseed oil gummies. I take 2 before bed and they have helped wonderfully. But, due to how easy it was for me to become dependent on melatonin, I do plan to take brief breaks from the gummies to avoid a similar situation. I also do not plan on seeking an insomnia medication due to the same reasons. I knew what I was doing was wrong and I knew i was becoming addicted, and due to this I do not wish to risk it happening with a prescription sleep medication. I will deal with my bouts of insomnia as they come.

I also am conquering my insecurities towards others knowing I am a fan of Michael Jackson; a moonwalker. In elementary school (5th grade, 2009), I went through a heavy obsessive phase when he passed. I’d never heard of him, and when I listened to his music that firs time I was instantly hooked. I was ridiculed at school after I performed “Thriller” during a talent show; I had classmates going as far as saying that I must want him to kidnap and r*pe me if I enjoyed his music so much. I didn’t understand the gravity of those comments back then the way that I do now that I’m 23, but I still knew to an extent that what they were saying was in now way a good thing. I shut out his music from mid-6th grade all the way until this year. I hadn’t listened to a single song aside from hearing “Thriller” on the radio during October. For my birthday this year, I had a friend take me out of town and get away for a day. The entire time, she surprised me by playing hours of his music when in the car with her. It has since reopened that connection to his music and I’ve been listening to his songs with a fresh take, with the mind of an adult who can comprehend his words and understand finally what he’s saying for each song. As such, I’ve become more comfortable with others knowing I’m a moonwalker. You can have your opininos of the man, you can choose to believe the tabloids and junk media or make your own conclusions after assessing the details and documents of his life, but I will enjoy the same freedom of opinion.

I know this is getting pretty long, but I wanted to fill those who still might be checking up on this blog for any sort of update or spec of life coming from it in on what’s practically killed the blogs for a good chunk of time.

I do plan to slowly start doing stuff again after Halloween. I have a video made that I plan to post for Halloween and I look forward to letting Kikumi and the others be open for asks again. Until then, may the wind guide you all. I hope everyone can have a safe and wonderful rest of August. I will see you in October.