#and bc ill have a lot of time home alone i was thinking i might try to relearn the guitar bc i still have my old one

[good-oldfashioned-lover-girl]

🪦< here lies my hopes and dreams

💐 < here’s some flowers to put on the grave so at least they look pretty

[nomaishuttle]

no i fr couldnt... 200 dollars for the worst seats + wed have to get to ny and ill be looking for an apartment ariund that time and im already going to have spent a Lot of money to be in ky... heaviest sigh of my life

[via-l0ve]

OMG UR MIKE SCHMIDT HCS ARE PERFECT!!!!!!!!! pls do a part two 🙏🙏

(btw can I be 😾 anon? )

Dating Mike Schmidt Hcs PT. 2!❣️

a/n: ABSOLUTELY!!! thank you sm 😾 anon <3 i love u! this also includes just some general head cannons of him because he’s my baby.

warnings: nothing :)

mike drinks coffee and energy drinks all the time

his favorite flavor of monster is the original or the Strawberry dreams

if you like monster (i’m an addict) he buys you one every time he buys one for himself

when he was working at freddy’s you’d patch him up if he ever got hurt :(

you teach him how to bake so he can teach Abby

You’re the only person Abby likes her brother to be with

she incorporates you into her drawings after a while of knowing you

mike is so happy when he sees you drawn in because his sister’s approval means a lot to him even if she’s only ten

it takes a while for mike to open up to you

but when he does he kinda has to break it up into small bits

he’s surprised when you hug him and comfort him bc what no one’s ever done that before

his love language is most definitely words of affirmation and physical touch

mike is so stressed with his work schedule so he can’t always be there physically but he always, without fail, every. day. sends you a good morning and good night text.

that might not seem like much but it’s everything to me okay!!!!

“hey baby, good morning :) i love you the most and i hope you have an amazing day. im on my way to work now but when i get out ill text you and when i get home ill give you lots of kisses. i love you.”

that’s so fucking cute

you guys have frequent date nights that just consist of laying on the couch or in his bed and watching a movie while he lays on your lap or on your chest

Abby usually interrupts because she “can’t sleep” but we all know it’s just because she wants to watch the movie

Mike secretly has a savings account for the two of you

he wants the best for you and when he can give you the world he will

but for right now he’ll pay for some stuff and give you kisses afterwards

he makes playlists that remind him of you

he loves to give you his clothes

or, if you don’t want those, he gives you blankets of his that smell like him

Mike notices the little things

like if you told him a story about your cousin and how they pissed you off

and then you brought them up again

he would remember the incident but he wouldn’t remember their name

“oh isn’t that the cousin who did all of that stuff to you?”

you guys have deep talks at 2am while he lays on your stomach and you comb through his hair with your fingers and you guys just talk and make out

his lips are soft but his hands aren’t

you definitely flirt with him all the time to make him blush

he hates feet

like everyone wears socks in his house or he will shoot his eyes out

he also hates canned corn

don’t ask me why i think this is just do

he’s scared of being alone

he also most definitely uses “:) :( :/ .-.” instead of actual emojis

he laughs at all of your jokes

even if they’re just not funny

he dosent want you to get sad lol

he’s always scared he’s not enough for you

he works a lot and he’s constantly tired and he makes minimum wage so it’s not like he can take you out to fancy dates or anything

he opens up about how he feels and when you tell him how much you adore your little mundane activities he gets all teary eyed and just hugs you so tight

:(((

he just wants to be the best version of himself for you

he adores you

off topic - he’s a lightweight when he drinks

he’ll stumble into the house drunk and just clinging onto you like a sloth

poor baby

he just deserves the world

[f1nalboys]

Hiiiiiii I love ur Randy stuff so like…. What if Randy and reader were trying out role playing their fav horror characters (reader as final girl, Randy as the slasher) but he keeps calling out reader for being ooc, so reader gets annoyed and makes them switch roles. And Randy is like,,,, INTO it 🫣

anon. anon..... u r the love of my life i fear we are to be married in three days time bc omggggggg THIS REQUEST DID SOMETHING TO ME...... thank you. anyways i rlly hope you like this!!!!! i had sm fun writing it hehe >:) and maybe perhaps ill do a part two for this later on but for now hehe

Randy Meeks x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1482

WARNINGS: nsfw, roleplay (killer/victim,) predator/prey dynamics, knife play, degradation, dom!reader, sub!randy, dry humping, premature ejaculation, implication of oral (reader recieving), lot's of 'victim's and 'slut's are said, mention of having a safeword but it's not used, sorta kinda proofread yall know me at this point

“They wouldn’t do that!” Randy’s voice calls out again, back to his usual tone with a hint of annoyance. You pause, grinding your teeth as you turn around. You had just reached the front door of the cabin you and Randy had rented for the weekend for your little roleplay and he had dropped the act in an instant, huffing from behind you. His mask is off and held in his hand at his waist, his eyes narrowed. “You should’ve run up the stairs.”

“Randy, c’mon-”

“I’m serious! Why would you run outside?”

“Because that’s what I’d do if a masked killer was chasing me!” You huff, tugging at the pajamas you were wearing. “Are you sure you even want to do this? You say you want the whole ‘thrill of the chase’ and then keep stopping to tell me I’m fucking it up.” Randy sighs, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you in close to him. 

He kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m being a dick, I know.” You hum, agreeing, and he snorts. Taking a deep breath, he pulls back from you and shrugs. “Maybe I’m just not gonna be able to get the vision out of my head… I don’t know, let’s just… stop for the night, okay?”

“No, no, I want to do this with you,” you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You stare at him for a moment, your mind searching for a solution, when an idea hits you. Your soft smile turns slightly sinister as you reach down, taking the mask from him and running your finger along the white ghostly face. “I have an idea… if you’re up for it.” You say quietly, looking up at Randy.

He cocks an eyebrow at you, noting your change in demeanor. “Alright… I’m intrigued. Can’t tell if I’m more scared or turned on by your smile… I think it’s sexy how scary and cryptic you’re being.” You snort at his words, rolling your eyes. “So… what’s your idea, baby?”

“Let’s swap places. You’ll be the sexy guy home alone…and I’ll be the killer.” You palm him, the fabric of both his jeans and his costume impeding most of your touch, but you get the desired result; Randy groans under his breath, eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments. “That way you can be the perfect victim for me, won’t you baby? Get your adrenaline running… get the chase you’ve always wanted… but you’ll just be the one getting chased.”

You can see the gears turning in his head as he considers it, his eyes flicking upwards towards the ceiling before he shrugs. “Fuck it, why not.” Randy takes a slight step away from you and pulls the costume off of him, bundling it up and passing it off to you. He watches with an eager smile as you pull the robe over your clothes. “Might need this,” he hums, passing you the large hunting knife and the sheath from his belt, and you grin, holding it tightly before you pull the mask onto your face. “You look sexy.”

Grinning, you tilt your head to the side in silence. Randy’s eyes have a flicker of recognition of you taking your role seriously. He gives you a wink. “Right, right. Silent killer, only taunting when they’re ready…” He looks around the dim cabin and shrugs. “Wanna start back up where you and I left off, then?” You answer by slowly pulling the knife from its sheath, the blade bright against the dark background. Randy turns on his heel and runs, bolting up the steps. You follow quickly, hot on his trail. 

Randy puts up a pretty good fight. He’s faster than you and he dives into the character of ‘final boy’ with ease, kicking you off of him when you finally catch up and grab ahold of his shirt. He curses, breaking character to reach over to you and ask if you’re alright. You respond with a slice of the knife, grazing his arm. 

He yelps, stumbling back onto his ass as he clutches his arm, staring at the thin cut across his arm before you jump on top of him, pushing him onto his back and pinning him to the floor. “Get off me!” Randy says, struggling underneath you, but the sight of the blade waving in front of his face causes him to still. You sit back onto his stomach, your legs on either side of him. Carefully and silently, you drag the tip of the knife down his face. 

“Pretty little Randy,” you coo, an edge to your voice he had never heard before. “So desperate to get chased around and fucked, right?” He swallows heavily, flinching away from the knife as you drag it along the side of his face. His lips part, ready to say something, wincing when you dig the knife into his cheek a little harder. “Don’t fucking talk.” You fix the mask on your face, allowing you to see a bit better, before you remove the knife from his face. Scooting backwards, you grind against his clothed cock and laugh cruelly at the bulge you can feel. “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?”

Randy shakes his head, his cheeks flushing, but he can’t deny the way he lifts his hips to grind against you harder or the small gasp he lets out. “N-No, I’m not,” he says, his voice catching at the end as you grind down against him harder. “Fuck, fuck, o-okay…” Randy swallows hard, closing his eyes. “I kinda am.”

“Isn’t that just pathetic.” You hum, setting a slow pace against him. The movement of your hips was driving him crazy, whimpers spilling from his lips despite his best efforts to hold them back. “Aww, is it feeling good? Your heart’s beating like crazy,” you say as you lay your hand flat against his chest, the knife in your other hand coming to rest against his neck. “I can feel it. You know what else I can feel?” 

“Wh-what?” 

“How much of a slut you are.” You leer, digging the knife into his neck, just enough to scare him. Well, scare a normal person. Instead, Randy’s eyes shut and he lets out a loud groan, his hips sputtering slightly against your still-grinding hips. You grin, tilting your head again. “See? Only a dirty, disgusting, depraved whore would like this. Bet you’re close, too, aren’t you, Randy?”

He shakes his head, gulping, his eyes still squeezed tight. “M’not, fuck, I’m not close.”

“No? So if I stopped, you’d be alright with that, then?” You question, purposely slowing your hips down. Randy whines, shaking his head despite the threat of the blade, and you grin. “See? You want me to keep going so you can cum in your pants with a knife to your neck.” You grind down harder, rolling your hips, biting your tongue to keep from moaning. You had to pretend you weren’t into this just as much as he was. 

Randy's eyes roll into the back of his head as he cums in his jeans, his hips thrusting upwards to gain even more friction against you. “Fuck,” he pants as you finally slow your hips down, still positioned on top of him. He blinks up at you, letting the mask come into focus when he laughs, reaching up and pulling it off of you. “That was fucking amazing. You did way better at being the killer, honestly.” 

You snort, leaning down to kiss him briefly before sitting back up. “You don’t think we’re done, do you?” You ask with a tilt of your head, your smile growing at the confusion on his face. You drag the tip of the knife down his chest gently, wetting your bottom lip with your tongue before slipping the blade under his shirt and slicing. Randy flinches at the sound of the cutting fabric, his heart hammering in his chest.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N?” He asks, looking down as he watches you trail the knife over his stomach to his freckled chest. “C-come on, knock it off.”

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” you say harshly, though your eyes are a little softer, searching his fear-filled eyes to see if he needed a break. When he doesn’t respond with the safe word, you grin, standing up. “Stay fucking still,” you grunt, putting the knife inbetween your teeth as you pull your shorts and underwear off, tossing them to the side before settling back down over his lap. “Be a good little victim and do what I want and maybe, just maybe,” you coo as you slide up his body, hiking your costume up over your hips, and it’s clear by the glint in his eye that he understands what you want. “I’ll let you live."

[tuxedokit]

Tell me everything about Della Duck 👀

ILL TRY MY BEST BUT I WILL MOST CERTAINLY NOT SUCCEED!!!!! SHE IS SO COMPLEX AND VAST AND I wanna kiss her on he mouth I MEAN WHAT WHO SAID THAT

ok SO!!!! heres the tuxsys / luna infodumps about della duck post!!! this is my interpretation, uhhh yeah lets go

shes donald ducks twin sister, and mother of huey, dewey and louie duck. she is described as persustent, headstrong, bold... she would never let people tell her she couldnt do ghings just cause shes a girl. shes a pilot as well

shes not present in her sons lives, at least up until their canon ages of roughly 10 years old. in the older canons, it is simply left there, however eventually in one comic it was expanded upon and revealed that she is on the moon! i believe in this continuity she has no idea 10 years have passed, and is shown in one to only believe herself to have been away for 15 minutes. truly tragic, considering no one has the heart to tell her.

in ducktales 2017, thats where my expertise shines cause my autism show, she haunts the narrative for the entire 1st season, and is presumed to be dead. at the end of the season, it is revealed that her disappearance caused a major rift in scrooge and donalds relationship, with them going no contact from before the boys hatch up until the shows pilot. also, like before, shes on the moon. idk why im talking so formally.

the second season we finally get to meet della and she fucking rules. she reminds me of my mom personality wise, which computes to me as that is a woman who never got an adhd or autism diagnosis and very likely needed one. shes silly, shes brave, shes impulsive, shes reckless. she learned her uncle was making her a surprise rocket ship and stole it for a joyride before it was done. roughly a week before her kids hatched. i have thoughts about that, but thats for later or maybe another ask.

ANYWAY. evidently, stealing an unfinished rocket ship is a Bad Idea; it gets swept up in a cosmis storm and she crashes on the moon. her leg is pinned under some debris of her ship, and she is forced to amputate it. keep in mind she is Completely Alone. then she spends the next ten years, still alone, slowly trying to find a way home to her kids. she has a picture of her, scrooge, donald and the eggs taped up the the wall and she drew what she thinks her kids might look like on the back of it. she went from building SOS signs to trying to rebuild the ship herself (teaching herself ROCKET SCIENCE in the process)

shes in rhe final stretch and then she meets moon aliens who have been here the whole time and also have a thriving society and all the materials she would need to rebuild her ship. because of course theyve been right there the whole time. sure. ten years of solitude and theres been guys here the whole time. at least one of them is a hot butch like twice her height?

the moonlanders help her rebuild her ship and she finally gets to go home and see her family. donald is sent away until the finale because they dont want me to be happy /j fr tho the twins reunion was underwhelming but its wtv i can cope

the reunion of della and scrooge is magnificent though!! along with her meeting her kids <333 they spend a few scattered episodes briefly exploring how she missed so much of their lives and ultimately doesnt know how to be a mom, but theyre a family and theyll work to figure it out. they make like... 2 brief nods to how she spent a decade alone on the moon, but judging by the appearances of younger della in flashback stories, it seems as if shes nearly completely unaffected (i call bullshit but wtv. ill write it myself)

uhhh yeah! theres a LOT of details i didnt touch on this is just a brief synopsis

ALSO!!!! i think shes an aromantic lesbian AND shes my wife bc wheeeee

[oatflatwhite]

Absolutely feel free to not answer but I was wondering how you grew more comfortable being aro/ace? I’m 22 and ace (maybe aro too idk) and I recently ended an on again off again relationship and I am questioning if I ever felt anything towards him in the first place. Im kinda scared bc I love romance but idk if I’ll ever experience it? I wish I was as secure as you seem to be. Thank u in advance 🙂

hey anon :) thank you for reaching out! it's a really hard feeling to come to grips with so i hope i can help in at least a small way.

id'ing as aroace has been quite the journey for me. i've known i was ace for the longest time, but there was a period of several years where i denied even that (thanks 2016 tumblr discourse). eventually i realised that certain feelings would just never happen to me and that was ok - because i could still have romance, right? well!

i think it was around 2021 i kind of thought hold on. i've lived 23 years on this goddamn earth and don't think i've ever had a real romantic feeling/urge for someone who wasn't a fictional character/someone i didn't "force" myself to like because everyone in high school has crushes, right? so i thought about it and just went oh. oh! and it almost felt as though a weight came off my shoulders. like, yes, i was fucking bummed to realise i would probably never fall in storybook love. but there was this sense of a burden i could unshoulder because suddenly i wasn't beholden to the need to find that love, you know? i could just. be me. and even though it might make me sad sometimes, it's enough.

since then i've been up and down about it, absolutely. i even had a brief period last year where i convinced myself i actually did like this guy in real life! through a comedy of errors i realised that romance in my head was fine but any kind of real life interaction in that vein made me sick to my stomach fr lol. (for real! he had to drive me home in my own goddamn car bc i felt so ill.) i still get upset about it sometimes too. i mean, all i write is romance. i read and watch a lot of romance too. romance is every fucking where and it is so ingrained to be a part of everyone's lives that to try and distance yourself from it in order to feel more comfortable not feeling it is. virtually impossible.

where i am right now, 26 years old, 10 years into my ace journey and about 3 into my aro one, is here: i like my life. i love my friends. i can't force myself into a feeling that i will never have. and maybe at times i will be lonely and sad about it, but building a community has helped so much. whether that's with other aro/ace people, or just your friends or family or anyone else you trust with this. because romantic love =/= personal fulfilment, happiness, success. we've just been told it does. it just takes work to make yourself believe otherwise.

and it's ok to be sad about it. but even if you feel lonely, you're not alone.

also, because i'm nothing if not a girl who loves a bibliography, i would recommend checking out these sources:

loveless by alice oseman

ace: what asexuality reveals about desire, society and the meaning of sex by angela chen

this essay by k.a. cook

and pinging a couple blogs with some good aro resources, though i'm sure there's more out there! @aroworlds @arowitharrows

[mikelogan]

apologies in advance for the following rant that you really don't have to read if you don't want to.

my parents have been raising my nephew since he was just over a year old and he'll be 7 in march. i had to move back in with them in early 2023 bc of my medical and financial issues. as he gets older, the more violent, disobedient, mean he gets, and his outbursts and tantrums are nightmarish at home and at school.

a couple weeks ago, they were finally able to meet with a doctor (he already has a good pcp and has recently established with a psychiatrist) and he had a full day of testing. he's already been diagnosed with ADHD. they got the results today, which confirmed that. in addition, he's also on the autism spectrum, though i don't really know to what degree yet. but he also has dmdd and after checking it out on nimh, it fits him to a t. but jesus christ, don't read the treatment section unless you want to feel hopeless.

it's a newer disorder, first in the dsm in 2013, and listed is cbt or medications, none of which are specifically for dmdd. i looked at a few reddit posts from parents of children with the disorder and it's exactly what we're dealing with and the outlook feels so bleak. his frontal lobe is underdeveloped, so he's unable to regulate emotions the same way other kids of his age are.

and the real kicker? my sister tricked her boyfriend of 3 months at the time into getting her pregnant, telling him she was taking her birth control when she wasn't. she has borderline personality disorder but won't seek treatment for it and every direct result of her actions is always someone else's fault in her eyes, so she refuses to take accountability for anything. and she smoked pot for the entire duration of her pregnancy, claiming that it HELPS brain development 🙃

in summary, if i 1) wasn't dealing with multiple chronic illnesses, 2) wasn't so close with my parents and grandparents, and 3) didn't have severe anxiety, i would pick up and move so far away from all of this. i'm sure a lot of this sounds insensitive from the outside, but i don't mean it to. i know none of this is his fault, but the fact of the matter is that his behavior takes a massive toll on my own mental health because it's quite literally constant. loud, violent outbursts, one right after another over the most miniscule triggers. yelling, screaming, swearing, hitting, throwing, kicking, etc. if he doesn't get precisely his way. and my parents are trying and they love him dearly, but they're also not very consistent, which makes me fucking nuts.

i just. i don't know what to do and it doesn't look like there's a ton that can be done. he's tried so many meds already and the one that seemed to help for a while is starting not to and he's gotten even worse. i dread him coming home from school each day and literally count down the hours until bed time. and even then, he'll get up multiple times after they put him to bed for no reason and then throws a tantrum when they tell him to go back to bed.

however bad you think it might be, i can guarantee you it's worse living with it. i'm not being dramatic. he's a nightmare to be around and he's hurt teachers and other students, not to mention how rough he is with my parents. he has an iep and hopefully this testing and results will open more doors for help at school, but apart from math, he couldn't be less interested. all he wants to do is play on the playground and then disrupts the classroom when he doesn't get his way. he's thrown chairs, hit other children, made them bleed, etc. and again, i feel like i have to state that i know this isn't his fault, that he's not doing these things on purpose, but something's gotta give, right? i'm exhausted and miserable and i can only spend so much time holed up in my bedroom, and even then, my door has to stay open enough for my cats to get in and out, and you can hear everything downstairs even at a normal volume, let alone screaming. we only have one vehicle because mine got repo-ed after i lost my job and before my long-term disability got approved, so i can't just leave the house any time i want, plus that'll be even less of an option once winter comes.

i hate it here, basically.

[justtopostmyfic-blog]

hii Mew @parknights : whumpy h/c casual imagines!

"boy, man, baby" (parker/jess + dad roman) Parker gets seizures, not graphic. And later he tries to vomit but can't, so no puke described.

Pp is lying in a hospital bed in a fetal position, he was admitted after he got knocked out by real toxin gas. Jess escaped unscathed and has just arrived at his bedside where he's mostly conscious now. ...

"I feel weird." Parker whines twice within a few minutes.

"Weird how, cub?" Jess asks him after the second time, sounding very worried and a little exasperated. Everything looked normal on the monitors.

Parker doesn't know how to articulate what he's going through, he has never felt this way before. Grey-tinged aura, and like the room and Jess are zooming in and out. He swallows dryly against his nausea and just shakes his head defeatedly.

5-10 minutes pass. Parker closes his eyes and tries his hardest to calm down and get some rest. Jess sees the familiar "11" lines around his tightly knit eyebrows slowly relax, and her whole body starts to relax too along with his face. He must be feeling better, she thinks.

Her worry fades and it feels a lot more tranquil. She strokes his hair and shoulder to help calm him further and lull him to sleep.

Suddenly, his whole body goes limp and then he jerks uncontrollably in a seizure. His eyes roll back in his head, he's drooling, and Jess gets alarmed and terrified and yells for the nurses.

After the docs dose him with anti-seizure meds, Jess is wracked with guilt that she didn't listen to Parker or help him sooner. But all his vital signs on the monitors looked stable when she was with him before the seizure, how could she have known?

When she's allowed to see him again, he doesn't blame her at all ofc. He just wants her to hold his hand bc he's so exhausted and scared. Her fingers do the tightening around his limp ones because he's too tired to clasp back. The nurses had placed a puppy pad under his face and he can't help it as he drools intermittently. Jess cleans his face with her free hand whenever that happens.

// The docs say Parker can be discharged the next day, but he needs someone to stay with him 24/7 for the next week. Parker calls his dad, and ofc Roman will stay with Parker at his apartment while he recuperates.

// Maybe some others in the team were also exposed to the toxic gas, but they could be discharged the same day and were cleared to go back to work the next day. Could be because Parker got exposed to a higher dose, or because he is older and more frail. Parker spends many moments awake wondering that same thing himself.

// the theme is (which i will demonstrate below lol): Roman is sorta comfortable with his own mortality (he lives in a senior facility, hello! He thinks to himself). But he has never, before this, considered that his son might get deathly ill before him. He has also never considered that his (youngest?) boy is an now old man too.

Roman has to come to terms with Parker and his dangerous occupation as an NCIS detective, and it sucks to think about. (If Parker was a navyman, he would have been honorably discharged long before this age.)

// day 1: Parker wakes up as Jess gets ready for work, and he sees her out the door as she leaves (and kisses him). Roman has prepared breakfast and Parker eats a little bit before he goes back to bed. Roman is reminded of when his son was 10 years old on school break, and his beloved bride Iris was still around.

Parker sleeps through lunch, he's really wiped out from the seizure 2 days ago. Roman watches a matinee movie on low volume and feels bored and lonely. He likes to needle Alden and it feels like he's alone in Alden's apartment again. He checks on his boy, still sound asleep.

Jess gets home, Alden wakes an hour later. The 3 of them eat a simple dinner. They watch some TV after cleaning up, but Parker falls asleep halfway through a show.

The anti-seizure meds that Parker has to take for the next few weeks make him lethargic and docile. It's kinda cute, like a dopey puppy, but Jess is glad it won't be forever. She misses Alden with his assertiveness, pep and vigor. As her eyes meet Roman's over Parker's slumbering form between them, she can tell he feels the same way, in his own way.

// day 2: Roman and Alden take a little late morning walk. Roman can see Alden's energy is flagging, so he pretends he wants to sit and then turn back. Alden agrees to it, he knows what his dad is doing.

Later in the day, the two Parkers bake a tasty old-fashioned cake! They have quite a nice time together, and Parker is pleased to surprise Jess when she gets back. They even bake enough for her to take to work the next day!

Jess is the one who ends up doing the surprising. She texted him a few times throughout the day and since she knows he's more alert today, she brings home his favorite neapolitan pizza for them all to share and a six-pack of no-alcohol beer.

Parker is thrilled! He's been going a little stir-crazy with domestic life, and Jess knows his fave foods and how he kinda misses a cold beer now that he can't have any with his anti-seizure meds for now.

Parker chows down one and a half slices, which is less than his usual but Jess is happy to see him like this. He looks so content, like a stuffed cat who swallowed the canary. Roman looks content in a different way too, she catches him beaming at his son.

"You gonna finish that?" Jess jokes lightly. Parker shakes his head as he grins at her, so she swipes his half-slice off his plate and eats it.

They decide to play Uno tonight. Parker is pretty happy and rambunctious as he sips his no-alcohol beer. (He told them not to hold back on his account, so Jess has some wine and Roman a thimble of whiskey.)

A few games in, Parker gets quiet. Jess notices that, then checks on the wall clock that it's 9:20pm. Around the same time that Parker unceremoniously fell asleep in front of the TV the night before.

"Park, you tired?" She asks.

Parker shakes his head and slurs "n-no..." as he tries to stand. He stumbles and drops his hand of cards which spill on the small table and floor. Jess rushes up to catch him by his armpits so he doesn't fall or hurt himself.

Parker's fist tightens around the back of her pyjamas shirt as he clutches on. "I... bathroom..." He struggles to keep his feet under him, and the two of them awkwardly shuffle to the bathroom. (More like she drags him as he drags his feet.) From the way he's trembling against her, Jess has a pretty good idea that he needs to drool or vomit.

When they make it to the bathroom, Parker flops on all fours in front of the toilet and leans heavily against it. It's scary to see him look like a very drunk person and lose coordination of his limbs. Roman follows closely behind them, and Jess sees her own fears reflected in the elder Parker's face as they take in the sight of Alden now.

They decide quickly that Roman will stay with Alden while Jess calls the doc and asks whether he needs another dose of meds or to go back to the hospital, bc she knows his doc.

Parker is drained from kneeling over the toilet and drooling and panting and after a few long minutes, he stumbles back gracelessly, landing on his butt to sit and catch his breath.

Roman is beside his son, and he rushes to cup the back Alden's head just before it slams into the lip of the clawfoot tub. He still has paternal instincts towards his youngest boy-- and he always will.

Alden cracks his eyes open in gratitude and he sees his father's concerned face. "Mm okay," he tries to reassure his dad. Roman's face furrows even more with worry, maybe his muttering didn't come out as Parker intended.

It's not comfortable for Roman to crouch over like that for too long, so after checking that Alden doesn't get any paler or worse, the older Parker kinda contorts himself so he sits on the edge of the bathtub, all the while still keeping his hand as a shield on the back of Alden's head.

Sitting on the thin, curved lip of the bathtub is far from comfortable too, but it has to do. He's not leaving his son in this state for even a sec. Roman very gently positions Alden so that his boy is leaning his back against Roman's shins and his tired head is cradled in Roman's lap.

When Alden was a boy learning to walk, he and Iris babyproofed the home (again) and made sure there were no sharp edges at Alden's height. Now, six decades later, Roman is doing the same thing for different reasons.

"Doc says to keep an eye out. We only have to go to the hospital if there's a seizure." Jess conveys solemnly, but she's relieved.

"Musta been th' beer." Parker jokes weakly, some of his strength coming back.

Roman swats his shoulder lightly. Jess fixes him with a mock-stern look then chuckles at his confused face.

(they both love their old cub/ young bub so much)

A long while later, they get Parker settled in bed in the recovery position. All of them are exhausted and still on edge. They know there's still a possibility that Parker could have a seizure later in the night.

Jess walks out of their bedroom to head to the kitchen one last time and she almost runs into Roman in the hallway headed for his room.

"We'll leave the bedroom door open tonight okay?" 

Just in case. So you'll know if something happens.

Roman nods in agreement and he steps towards Jess to give her a tight hug. "Thank you." In spite (Because) of all the stress tonight, it feels like they've grown closer, bonded over their love for Alden.

In the kitchen, Jess sees the bundt cake that Parker had proudly and carefully wrapped up after dinner. Oh yeah, she was supposed to take that into work tomorrow, but not if something bad happens to Parker tonight.

She returns to the bedroom and put a glass of water at each of their bedsides. Jess thinks quickly, and then she also discreetly pulls the trashcan close to his side of the bed. Parker doesn't see her doing it because he's curled up facing her side of the bed: still boneless in the recovery position, and also like he's waiting anxiously for her to come to bed too.

"Sorry I ruined our night," Alden mumbles after she has laid down in bed facing him.

"Hey Park, you didn't ruin anything. Except for maybe my winning streak." She soothes, then switches to joking. A surprised chuckle bubbles up in his chest against her palm, and it's the best thing she's heard and felt all night. (The hug with Roman felt pretty nice too. In a different, mutually comforting way!)

[crowtrobotx]

Thank you all for your amazing support related to the spontaneous rage quitting of my job lol.

I have a lot of support IRL and afar and I feel incredibly fortunate for that. I talked to my mom today and I was frank about the truth that ever since my dad died, even though it was years ago now, I’ve been thinking about how I spend my time - and of course, by extension, what I did for a living. And how I feel that even though I’m sure they didn’t mean it, a lot of the pressure I felt as the only child of two financially successful adults led me down a path where I felt like I had to at least replicate or exceed that, even to the detriment of my physical and mental health. Being friends with a lot of folks who have found financial success also didn’t help my deep rooted feelings that I needed to tie my value and worth to what I was able to produce and perform. And yes, I know the people who love me care most that I am happy. But I lost sight of that partially because good old ~capitalism~ and partially bc of mental illness.

My dad hated his job in the end. He was miserable and coming home every day ranting and raving about the conditions he was in and his boss’s expectations. And then one day he suffered a freak medical event, with no warning, much younger than his mother or his father were when they passed and when I sat there in the hospital, alone and holding his hand while the heart monitor slowed to a halt, it fundamentally fractured something in me. And then a few months later I found out I had something wrong with me, something that might completely disable me one day or make my ability to do the things I love that much harder. And I’m only sorry that it took me this long to realize how much time I was wasting and sacrificing.

Anyway. That’s a lot of words to say: if you’re struggling to let go of something right now that’s making you sad or mad or otherwise weighing you down, as scary as it is: let this be your sign to free yourself. Move on. You will be okay.

[wolfisland]

hey do you have any first time concert tips

YES!

just as a disclaimer, im physically disabled, australian, and i live in a large city, and those can definitely make a difference here

but heres some tips or things i generally try to follow for myself, under the cut!

⭐ always carry portable chargers. multiple if possible

⭐ stay hydrated. enclosed venues get hot and sweaty and gross and if youre moving around a lot you WILL get dehydrated. some venues offer free water, take advantage of it. also stay masked bc i cannot stress enough what a perfect breeding ground for illness venues can be

⭐ protect your ears. there are loads of noise reduction earbuds marketed towards concerts and loud environments in particular, and honestly in my experience theyre kind of overpricer, but protection is absolutely vital, ESPECIALLY in smaller venues in my experience. noise over 70db over prolonged periods of time will start to damage your hearing and ive seen 90db as the LOWER end for concerts ive been to.

⭐ if you have any headphones or earbuds with active noise cancellation these are also great options, i actually prefer wearing my headphones just with anc on than i do my silly little specialized loop earbuds.

⭐ try not to go to these events alone if you can help it. most concerts are at night and most concerts are at licensed venues and whether youre drinking or not, there will likely be people acting like fools around you. it goes without saying to NEVER accept a drink you didnt watch be mixed or opened yourself.

⭐ make sure people know where you are and make sure you always have enough money easily accessible to you (either in cash, or in your bank account) to pay for an uber or cab or whatever. if its a big concert theres a decent chance itll fuck up public transport. ive left shows at 11 pm and not gotten home til 3 am just because of how crowded shit is and how fucked public transport is after like 10-11 pm

⭐ get your concert merch before the show starts. like every time i am so serious if you wait til after the show 7 times out of 10 whatever you want will be gone.

⭐ if theres an opener i can almost promise you you will not see your headliner for like half an hour after the opener finishes. go pee now

⭐ in some areas if youre disabled just call the venue and ask for accommodations. i can usually make sure i get seated (for free) because im disabled and it makes such a huge difference its not even funny. like just ask. theres no harm in asking, worst case scenario is they say they cant help when you were gonna to to the show anyways. some venues will also make sure security keeps an eye on you so you can exit safely after the show too.

⭐ if youre trying to get close to the front at a show, barricade for example, youre almost always gonna need to show up way earlier than you think you are. an hour? try three. get there early and make yourself comfortable. itll suck and you might not even get close but when you do it fucking rules

⭐ dont be that person who has to get told to shut up. dont be rude or heckle the artists if they arent taking the piss themselves. dont throw shit at them. dont try and climb up on the stage. dont keep yelling while theyre talking. dont interrupt them while theyre talking by showing requests for stuff that isnt on the setlist. if youre close to the stage you might be able to see the setlist (and you might even get the setlist after the show if youre close enough or linger around) OR you can probably search up sets the artists have played recently to get a better idea. dont be a tool.

⭐ pit etiquette sucks rn. covid has made people forgot how to fucking behave and if the artist themselves doesnt set some boundaries dont trust that the venues rules around pits will be respected either. i am so serious. people die in pits so be careful. also tbh almost always unless youre like BIG VENUE big, if you call for a pit and wont get in it yourself youre nothing to me sorry

⭐ if you can, support the openers too! if youre lucky theyll be at the merch stands themselves after if the stand is selling their merch too. definitely go say hi and grab like a shirt or sticker or poster or cd or whatever if you can.

⭐ you will get charged like $20 for a vodka redbull. dont let them charge you $20 for a vodka redbull. pre game elsewhere if youre gonna drink.

⭐ if i think of anything else ill come back here and drop it, feel free to dm me about any of this

[dogmatik]

under a readmore bc its long and pretty boring, just a unfinished day in the life type thing with billy and stu. cannot for the Life of me find the fic that inspired stus weird dead-shit photography, but ill keep looking and link it when i do.

There’s a polaroid of a squirrel on Stus messy desk. The thing looks pretty much the same as it would any other time, except its laying on the asphalt with all its little legs spread wide. There's a smear of red next to its nose, but other than that, it looks like the little creature could hop up a tree any second. Billy picks up the picture, finding another underneath. Same squirrel, different angle, same sleeping-with-its-eyes-open look. Billy remembers when he first saw Stu’s weird photography. They’d been around 12, Stu’s parents got him a polaroid for his birthday, and he took pictures of everything. There were some of his family, friends at school, trees at the park, but there were some others too. Stu had this dumb Transformers binder full of images. There were a lot stuffed in the back pocket, and Billy has never been very concerned with the privacy of others.

Stu had come back to his room with some goldfish to find Billy in the middle of his bedroom floor, surrounded by square pictures of dead raccoons and dried up little birds. “You’re such a freak.” Billy had said, eyes trained on an especially unfortunate cat.

“Wanna do Leprechaun 2?” Billy hears Stu ask behind him, the sound of VHS boxes being shuffled. “We’ve watched that like 4 times this week.” “Still got it for a couple days.” more shuffling, Billy sets down the photograph of the squirrel and plops into the chair at Stus desk, watching the other boy rearrange his collection of tapes. “Is that Brainscan?” Stu pauses, tracks Billy's eyes. He holds up the tape. “Yeah, you wanna watch it?” “I thought that was a rental too.” “Nah, bought it. Randy came over to watch it like, fifteen times. Kid loves this movie!” Billy rolls his eyes. “He would.” Stu sets it firmly in the “No” pile, and keeps shuffling. “April Fool's?” Billy thinks for a second. “Sure, I’ll go make popcorn.” Stu starts switching tapes. “Coulda done that while I looked!” Billy doesn't acknowledge him, just heads down the stairs to Stu’s kitchen. The house is quiet, empty but for the two boys. Stu’s parents are always on some trip, or business thing, or generally anywhere but home. Stu doesn't complain much, being so used to it. Billy appreciates it, always good to have a place without somebody's parents around that isn't the mall or school. Stu’s pantry is always full, popcorn and soda and junk, what you’d expect leaving a 17 year old alone with two weeks of grocery money. Billy snags some jiffy pop, sets the stove on and wanders the kitchen. He’s been coming to the Macher’s since grade school, knows where they keep the big popcorn bowls and butter.

He knows where the knives are too, and not for the first time this week, hell not for the first time tonight he wonders what Stu’s face would look like if he came upstairs with a knife instead of snacks. He’d think he was joking, probably. Make some dumb joke about teenagers being left alone making bad choices. He wonders how fast Stu would catch on, how long it’d take for that ever-present grin to slip. Would he fight him? He’d probably try to take the knife, and he just might be able to. He hasn't wrestled Stu in years now, but he's always been bigger. Clumsy maybe, but that wingspan might just be enough to compensate. He thinks that makes it better, more exciting if there's a fight. He’s never drawn blood from a person before, even in scraps with the neighbors’ kids over who’s turn it was to do whatever they spent their afternoons doing. Or jokes about his mom he took too seriously. He’s pretty sure Stu would put up a good fight, the thought makes his pulse quick. Billy realizes he's spent too much time fantasizing about blades and chokeholds when he smells something burning. He whips around to find the popcorn billowing dark smoke, goes to grab the handle just as the fire alarm starts its shril ring. Over it he can hear “Billy?” from up stairs, followed by lots of thumping. The handle sends a white hot pain through his palm, and he has just enough time to throw it into the sink. “What the hell man!” Stu sounds angry, but mostly just looks surprised. “Get the fucking alarm will you?” Billy snaps, and even after Stu clambers onto a chair and turns the damn thing off, Billy can still hear it in his skull. He’s turned on the tap, the fire sputtering and hissing under the spray. “Why'd you burn the popcorn?” “Like I did it on purpose?” Billy leans against the counter, looks at his palm. There’s a streak of white across it, the skin turned bright pink at the edges. “You okay?” Stu asks, softer than Billy thinks he’s ever heard him. Sorta like when he’s talking in the library, but calmer. Stu’s never been able to sit still, never been able to keep quiet. Billy remembers being annoyed by it, but mostly jealous. Jealous because even when he did laugh too loud in the library, or thump into some fragile shelf, people mostly just laughed. They gave him an endeared head shake and sent him off to expend his energy elsewhere. Billy never got to let go like that, always one too many grimaces or scoffs away from being sent to detention or his fucking room.

Billy looks up, watches as Stu’s bright blue eyes shift from his face to his palm. “We should get some ice for that.” Stu pulls open the freezer, pushing aside french fries and nuggets to get to the ice packs at the bottom. “It’s fine, doesn't even hurt.” Billy says, but takes the ice pack once it's wrapped in a dish towel. “Seriously man, what gives. You been like, super spacey.” There’s a popcorn kernel on the floor, half popped, blending into the light tiles. He’s pretty sure he can smell singed skin, but maybe that's just him being morbid again. Billy’s pulled roughly from his thoughts by Stu snapping in his face “Earth to Bill!” He says, and Billy slaps his hand away “Fuck off Macher, I just forgot about it. There wasn't an actual fire, was there? I’ll open the windows and it’ll be like nothing happened”. “Man, that's not the point! You been weird all day. Not even the fun weird. You okay?”

Billy hates that. Such a stupid waste of time question. When's he ever been able to answer honestly?. People like him can't, not unless they wanna get locked up in some padded hole somewhere. “I don't know. Probably.” Billy answered, more honest than he meant. Stu looks at him like he gets it, this serious expression on his face, like the one he gets when he's real focused on landing a trick on his skateboard. Then he grins, all teeth, and turns to leave the kitchen. “I got an idea! C’mon kid!” Stu yells from the garage door, and Billy’s stunned enough to follow.

Stu’s parents are some of the few people on the planet who actually have useful junk in their garage. All power tools and fishing equipment and snow gear. Billy thinks about the rubbermaid bins in his parents shed out back, baby clothes they're never gonna touch again and tchotchkes pushed on them by a dead relative. Billy’s fiddling with a golf club when Stu emerges from further in the garage, some hard case in his hand. “Check it out! My mom got me this for Christmas. Not time yet, but what she don't know won't hurt her.”

[thedreadvampy]

I am so tired 😭 not like sleepy tired I'm just like

I don't know I think. I don't really need a lot from anyone. I have built a lot of my life around not needing a lot from anyone bc if you need someone then a) that traps them with you and b) you're pretty fucked if you can't rely on them being able to help

that's not to say I'm some sort of lone wolf John Galt island btw. obviously I need people. I have very often needed help with fairly basic things like eating, leaving the house and having shelter. On this I'm pretty good at asking for help, I've lived a lot of my life very reliant on the help of other people. But I try to avoid being in a situation where I need one specific person to help me, if it's an actual survival need I try and have at least a couple of backups before I ask the first person.

(something that does alarm me is that I do have a couple of exclusively load-bearing people just now. like people who if they weren't there I wouldn't have a second option built in. I guess that's trust? but it's also a lot of pressure to put on them)

so like I have spent a lot of time trying to build myself into a position where people can be unavailable to me or say no to me and I will be fine. I'm not going to die of it or go insane or get hurt. I can be relied on to feed myself, go to work or deal with taking a day off, to manage my bills, to get home safely on my own, to protect my physical safety and look after myself if I get ill, to deal sensibly with stuff going wrong or with a crisis...basically, left alone I Will Manage.

(sometimes managing might look like asking for very specific help like 'could I stay on your sofa tonight?' or 'can I come grab your keys cause I'm locked out' or 'i have covid can you leave 6 mangoes and a 2 litre of water outside my door?' or 'can you come get me because I can't leave the house' but those are always. Options. Not the only choice. If the answer is no I will figure something else out and it will be fine)

But like. What I'm finding a lot more. And I think this is maybe a symptom of being a few years into post-traumatic mode rather than constant crisis and instability. Is that I still don't need things from anyone but I'm very much more aware of how much I want from people. Like I want attention. I want love. I want to be looked after in the way that I have made it my life's goal not to need. I want to like. Be able to fall back and have someone else catch me instead of having to set up my own safe landing and several contingencies.

but at the same time these are wants and not needs. and needs should always take precedence over wants.

Like if I'm going to be fine but a bit lonely if I don't see person X, but someone else is in immediate physical danger of they don't see person X, then obviously person X should go see that other person. If I want sympathy and support from person Y because I'm a bit grumpy but they need my support because they're in crisis like, obviously that interaction needs to be about them. Somebody's survival needs are the priority. If an interaction isn't a survival need then it's a nice-to-have and you can ask for it and expect it from people who love you when they have time but you've got to be ready for that to not be a possibility.

but the difficulty is like. ok so a) I have put my eggs in the not-needing-any-one-specific-person basket, meaning I have worked hard to build strategies meaning very few bits of support are fully load bearing, and b) I'm out of crisis. weird. but other people aren't.

so that means that put simply. I want. Other people need. I will always get by on my own if I have to and not everyone will. I very rarely have a need that I can acknowledge both is a need and can only be fulfilled by a specific person.

so if you're paying attention you will notice that means: I am not ever going to be a drop-everything priority. If something else comes up I'm always going to say 'no you should go look after them/yourself' and mean it even though I REALLY REALLY REALLY want you to stay and look after me, bc I know that I will be fine, just temporarily sad about it. Like I'm never going to be in a position where I feel able to ask to be cared for in a way that takes energy away from looking after yourself or other people bc I do not need it. I will manage. I have always managed and anyway things are more manageable now than they've ever been.

but at the same time like. I'm coming to really resent this about myself. I resent that I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself and parenting myself and that I'm constantly balancing other people's needs against my wants. I constantly want to throw myself on the ground and scream and cry and demand attention, like I want to let go completely and fuck up and leave it to other people to catch me, but I can't because that's not fair.

like I want to have needs. I want to be the priority and let myself be the priority. I want to be in dire straits such that people have to put me first or lose me. but like. It doesn't work like that. I've been in extremely bad situations, I've been in near constant crisis for like 20 years, and I've never been able to feel like I'm in a bad enough situation that looking after me should be a priority for anyone because I've always felt like it's on me to drag myself through it and figure it out.

And I have! I've done that! Not without damage but like I'm 30 and I'm still here and I did that. I had help along the way (shout out Alex you fucking lifesaver) but I made that happen.

but in some ways that's uhhhhhh worse? bc I know I'm right that if nobody looks after me I will be ok. I know I'm right that I can manage my own survival even when it feels impossible and even at times when nobody is available to help me. and if that was true when I was much closer to the edge then how can I ask to be prioritised now, when things are pretty much stable and safe for me and very much not that for most of the people around me?

but like. I am so fucking tired. I have been carrying the whole of my own weight and a bunch of other people's non-stop for decades and not been able to let go of any of it and I want so much to put it down. but I don't know how and anyway. it's a want. not a need. and needs come first.

(and it's haaaaaaard because ultimately the problem is with me. I don't prioritise me, and I actively push back when people try to look after me, so I don't think it's anyone's fault but mine. I have decided I can manage and other people can't (and that's pretty narcissistic and self-aggrandizing tbh). so like. If someone asks 'is it ok if I go look after X instead of staying with you' the answer of always gonna be yes. if somebody doesn't ask that but I know they're worrying about X I'm always going to gently encourage them to go deal with X. so I make it very hard to look after me or prioritise me bc ultimately I do think that prioritising me over other needs is almost always the wrong call. It's at the very least internally consistent but it's a very lonely place to be.)

[ankhisms]

have surprised myself with how much ive been able to get done today altho i know ill be hit with exhuastion soon enough, rambling under the cut about things having mixed emotions but not all bad really

so my room in our house isnt really exactly my own room, its the room with the eletric box, water heater/softener closet, furnace filters, and the washer and dryer. its always been this way so im used to like not really ever having a space thats mine and mine alone but i wont get into that. anyway any time the seasons change (or often on my parents whim and never without any warning) we have to get to the water heater closet and the furnace filter so my room has to be torn apart to get to them. my bed is pushed up against the water heater closet so its like i sleep right next to a door so the bed has to be moved. anyway this is usually a very jarring and upsetting thing since it usually happens without warning or telling me and i have everything i own just moved without being told or warned. but today i decided to take agency in this and i was the one who moved the bed and moved all my things so my dad could get in and turn on the water so we can use the outside hose to water things.

ive been meaning to really deeply clean and sort like, everything i have and everything in my room for probably half a year now and to see what i might want to give away/keep and reorrange things and just like take stock of things for the HOPEFUL future where i can move out and be having my real own space yknow. i finally started this process and it felt good to get everything down and to really deeply dust, ive also been meaning to properly wash old stuffed animals of mine bc i love my stuffed animals dearly but some of the ones i had when i was younger are very clearly showing their age so i looked up tips and instructions on hand washing old stuffed animals and i tested it out on two ones that dont mean as much to me to see if it goes ok before trying to wash ones that i absolutely dont want to ruin and it went well! i definitely can feel myself starting to get tired and having more pain as i write this but im still happy with how much i cleaned and sorted along with washing my sheets/pillows/blankets

the thing that makes me have mixed emotions is that what ive also been meaning to do is.... take down and get rid of the things that were drawn by/given to me by the old long term friend who just suddenly cut me off with no warning or explanation and then only messaged me one more to weirdly say "well im hanging out with my new friends and theyre so cool and great" and not responding to me begging him to tell me what was going on or if i had done anything wrong and wanting to talk things out. we were long distance internet friends for over 10 years so i have a lot of drawings and books hed given me and i didnt really get to taking down a lot of drawings but i sorted through one book in particular, he used to do this thing where hed give me a comic book and hed put in sticky notes in a lot of pages with his thoughts on them. so i went through the pages and took out all the sticky notes one at a time since i want to give the comic book to someone i know will like it. and it was a very... weird feeling. taking them all out. i had read the notes and the book when he first gave it to me but now reading them it felt like.. more bitter than sweet but there was still sweetness there. i recognize looking back that i had rose tinted glasses on for the majority of our relationship and it was probably more toxic than i realized and i often blamed myself for harmful things he did. not at all saying hes a bad person or anything btw i just think we both were very damaged kids from abusive homes and i was probably toxic in ways i didnt realize as well im not without blame here but its weird to realize that our friendship wasnt as healthy as i thought it was. but reading those notes as i took them out it was like... he wrote these at a time where i know he loved me and considered me his close friend and i felt the same. and i still love him. the love i have for anyone, especially a close friend, does not just disappear. it stays within me and is not wasted. but it certainly feels like a weight on my chest in this moment.. i keep thinking, what happened? what changed? he didnt even give me this book that many years ago, maybe three or four at the longest. what happened to make him decide to cut me off like that? i dont know, and i know im not going to get closure. so i just have to hold the love i still have and let it ache but then i have to let go and continue trying to live

i dont know how soon im going to have the opportunity and resources to be able to leave my home situation, its become increasingly obvious to me that its not something i can achieve on my own for a multitude of reasons, i know ill need help and i try to remind myself that im not alone in it and that its not impossible for me to get to a safe environment where i dont feel scared and like a cornered animal. for now i feel good about my decision to try and make my living space feel nicer for myself, although im aware that it never really feels like my own space nor does it ever fully feel safe i still am trying to make jt more comfortable for myself while im here and i feel proud of myself for that

anyway thanks if you read this all, i hope youre doing well mwah

[pctaldrunk]

ok ok bio drops lumped together and in bullet form bc i anticipate them to be decently short

A direct descendent of one of the ancestral N.ie zongzhus - a cousin or else a little sister of a branch of the previous generation. Old enough and important enough in main timeline to be called “Gugu” by most out of respect at least. Shaoxi grew up to be keeper of ceremonies, a task inherited from her mother - that is, a designated bearer and living library and relic of N.ie sect tradition to pass down to the future generation in the event that a master of the house cannot do so himself, a failsafe that proved across history, given the propensity for many of the sect’s leaders to die young - to be useful. 

At a young age, she was apprenticed to be a disciple to a Buddhist nun, and spent half of her time outside of Q.inghe at the temple where her master lived. There, she learned martial arts as well as scripture and the art of war - her master being a strict and eccentric old woman who taught through hardship and more ascetic cultivation practices. Shaoxi found it challenging but - fun. She enjoyed going up against her teacher and eventually outsmarting her. She learned to wield a cudgel - which eventually paves the way for her to modify her saber into a mounted crescent moon blade (or a guandao).

When she was fifteen it was determined that her master could no longer find anything else to teach her, and it would be best to return her to her sect full time. So she did return. Her cultivation is mid-level, largely - only slightly above average, and generally stabilized with her study of buddhist scripture. Her advantages are in skill alone. 

To the end of her duty as a keeper of traditions - she cannot leave the ancestral home permanently. Therefore, anyone she marries has to marry into the family instead. Their child will likely bear her family name and carry on her duties as she carried on her mother’s. It made marrying - unexpectedly difficult for her, but she thought nothing of it. Mischievous, vibrant and impish in what appears to be a charming way - she’s never short of suitors but none of them particularly serious. She sees it as fun, mostly.

She travels a lot, meeting many people, and making many friends on her travels - a spirit that seeks freedom, but she always returns to Q.inghe for periods of time to see how things are faring, and because in her heart it will be home forever. There’s steel in her bones and she’s fiercely protective of her family.

No one really knows how old he is or what he used to do - nor does a search turn up anything. He seemed to have no one and belong nowhere. One day, the young man simply showed up at Q.ishan, and became a guest disciple - Yuanzhou rose quickly enough through the ranks, given his aptitude in poisons and, more importantly - the workings of the human psyche - and became a member of a more intimate circle relatively quickly. After all - it seemed as though his compass merely skewed toward whatever was favorable for him at the moment, and all he cared about was his work - the concoctions he developed, the studies he managed to conduct on human nature, and he was undoubtedly - brilliant.

He enjoys living well also. One can never tell what he’s thinking just by looking at him, as he adopts, in general, a friendly and easy going demeanor. A frivolous, handsome youth with impeccable manners who prefers the finer things in life. Well - in truth, he likes to think that’s just his personality, and it is. Generally he bears no ill will to anyone - he’s merely too curious about how people react to calamity and other stressful situations. He has no compass for himself - doesn’t know what he insists on, lives life mildly and largely without goal. And so he wonders what other people might live for, might die for.

This is why, when the stirrings of war first begins in the cultivation world - he decides it’s time to retire. The war seems to him to be - foolish, mad. A fruitless and pointless endeavor, of which he knew he was not interested in. He doesn’t know what he’s interested in - but certainly not this. Perhaps he was just too lazy for it. For all the strategies and games, it was mostly killing - not particularly mentally stimulating.

So he leaves. Goes by whatever name he fancies at that moment, and lives a lazy and still frivolous life. Sees patients when he’s getting tight on money and generally - wanders a bit aimlessly. Still - one might find him where the trouble is. He tends to be sitting at a nearby table drinking the finest tea while looking - without disguising it in particular, of course - curiously at wherever the trouble is coming from.

[bunnygirlaltar]

pluto capricorn -> aquarius

pluto has been in capricorn for most of my life since im 20, it was in my 8th house and now for aquarius itll be in my 9th!

what pluto 8H transit looked like for me:

my dad died (pluto was opposing my natal saturn too)

both of my dads parents died too which led to inheritances

never dated, hypersexual in private but incredibly avoidant and ambivalent irl, basically craved intimacy but wanted nothing to do with it at the same time

so much SO MUCH codependency within my friendship circles, a lesson we/i had to learn over and over

in and out of therapy, a lot of mental health issues, a lot of spiraling and isolating myself, my brain felt really.. intense

attachments and trust were very shaky, sometimes having no trust at all or having entirely too much

instinct was always to psychoanalyze people or situations first including myself, how that helped me grow and become who i am but also hurt me at times, how it was both helped and protected me but also harmed me and drove me crazy

struggled with an eating disorder the whole time and other destructive habits that were an attempt at control (ive been recovered for a bit now, not that i can know for sure those will never come up again but they definitely had their Moment during this transit)

thoughts and guesses about pluto 9H transit!:

spirituality is def gonna bloom a lot more than it already has

i think ill become more opinionated

experiencing a lot of different perspectives in life that i never did before, ill be going to grad school and then starting my career in this transit and im a first gen student so everything i do is brand new

moving away from home, i still dont know where exactly ill end up but i have a feeling (and hope) grad school will be out of state and then who knows where ill go from there

im already feeling myself being more drawn to being more of a generalist than a specialist in my field bc i think specializing makes me pretty obsessive and unwell lol but i thrive being flexible and doing a lot of things at once. or more generally learning to be part of a team and sharing responsibilities instead of wanting to/thinking i have to do it all alone

i really hope it means friends! i think it might! i think my perspectives and relationships to my close friendships might change and mature a bit, and possibly new friends too, esp with people who change my views on things, or maybe people who share my beliefs. im really claiming this tbh after how isolating cap pluto felt

feeling a little more detached from home/family, which will probably have good and bad moments to it, but i have a feeling it will be overall healing for me and them

ive always admired the confidence and nonchalance of aquiariuses in my life so i really hope i develop some of that for myself

[dex-starr]

Alright soo this is a post about why my mind is the way that it is of recent

My job basically involves helping a lot of people who are in very unfortunate circumstances. I work in an area where it’s extremely weird bc gentrified now, you move a little upwards and you get Little Tokyo — you move south from there and you got one of the places most out of towners are afraid of or that they have disgusting biased feelings about. I don’t need to name names but I work with a lot of homeless and some of the things I do see when I’m either making my commute or working at work suck to see.

Like I know I’m helping people, I know this is around what I told my ex I wanted to do. But I also know I don’t quite have the support system I should to continue this job or even move onto the next department which is what I have my degree in. I’ve been thinking a lot about the people I’ve been seeing with actual fresh wounds and chunks missing out of their bodies. Nobody tries to really help them out, I try when I can but I can only do so much.

At the same time I see some people giving more than they can even afford to give. Going above and beyond. Good for them. I don’t think I can do that. I’ve seen some terrible things — I hear some terrible things. A lot of this I thought I would be experiencing with still having my ex be there bc she was my support system being honest. As much as she disagrees with what I trusted her with, I know I trusted her with damn near everything even though sometimes I do want my own privacy while I figure it out so I can talk about it eventually.

Any the point I’m trying to get to is I’m not sure how I can continue this — I’m not sure if I can find a job that will fit in the way I want it to. Jobs suck yeah but I think I could find something that works. It’s the who I’m coming home to that sucks. Like I’m still asked to do a lot and to take care of people that can’t really take care of themselves anymore. It’s not that much work but it is tiring.

I spent a lot of my relationship thinking I need to take care of my ex. But I also spent a lot of my relationship hearing from outside sources (and herself) on how difficult she must be. Or whatever. I kind of deleted the exact words but this was the sentiment. I never once found that difficult. Maybe because it was my piece of the world I felt I got to keep (haha yeah right, but that’s something else entirely.). I just genuinely don’t know how I’m getting through this, I feel like I’m desensitized to everything including my own feelings. I feel like I’ve boxed myself and stored it in a different room while life is going on.

I feel like someone telling me that I wasn’t living for me made me completely shatter and put this elsewhere like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’m not sure how I keep going but I keep going. I’m very ill now, I’m pretty much at the point of not needing to be in the hospital for good measure but I definitely need diagnostics of some sort. I’ve fixed some issues but this other one is actually kind of dangerous and I’ve been scared all this time bc I’ve been facing it alone. I don’t have the heart to tell anyone anymore. Not after what I went through. So I will just vent here to the void about it and hope things get better even if they might not