#and it’ll be shit that I’ve already been diagnosed with too! I’ll explain what the doctor told me and they’ll act like I’m making shit up

[dilfsisko]

Unfortunate part of being knowledgeable about your health problems and what happens when you’re sick is your family will accuse you of being on webMD all the time

[weasleyswizardpleases]

Playing Nurse (4/4)

Summary: Fred Weasley keeps showing up in Hogwarts’ infirmary,  where you apprentice when you’re not in class, but he quickly becomes more than just a patient to you.

Warnings/notes: Blood, dental injury, bruising, broken bones. Language, kissing, some nudity, coming out. Not super graphic but it takes place in the school infirmary so people’s injuries and illnesses are described. Trans masc!Fred x fem!reader. Last chapter! Thanks for loving this one as much as I do you guys :)

Tags: @lucymfer @accioweaslcy @manuosorioh 

4. We Must Stop Meeting Like This

A week goes by before you see Fred again. You’ve pretty much given up on him liking you after your somewhat unexpected last encounter. But, like clockwork, he’s in the infirmary again over the weekend. 

When you arrive for your shift, the infirmary is already bustling. Pomfrey is doing intake on a group of students while a stern but somewhat worried looking McGonagall stands by. You take in the scene: Ron Weasley is there with a busted lip, Malfoy’s a few feet away, holding his head and looking dazed, Crabbe and Goyle by his side in disheveled states. You’re unsurprised to see an incredibly peeved Katie Bell, her stockings ripped, glaring at the Slytherins. She’s limping heavily.

“What happened here? How can I help?”

“There was… a fight,” McGonagall says tiredly. 

“Go ahead and examine Ron, should be a quick episkey, and then move on to Mr. Crabbe, I think it’ll be much the same but I haven’t had a proper look yet,” instructs Madam Pomfrey.

You take Ron to an exam table and give him a quick once over while asking him what happened. He explains that Fred and George weren’t having it and things escalated quickly.

“Turned into an all out brawl before anyone could get a word in edgewise. Percy was watching and ran to snitch, well, thank god he did, because they’re in really bad shape,” he says.

“Who? The Slytherins?” you say, using an episkey charm on his lip and a few stray scratches across his arms, probably from being thrown to the ground in the scuffle.

“Fred, especially, and Malfoy, and…” Ron continues, but you’re no longer listening. You look around and notice that the twins are unaccounted for. You’re finishing up on Ron when George and Filch come in carrying a stretcher with Fred on it. He seems barely conscious. You walk alongside them, asking all the questions you know to ask. This one is yours- Pomfrey is busy with Malfoy, who you suspect has a concussion, and will probably need to look after Katie’s ankle next.

George tells you that Malfoy hit Fred with a stunning spell, but after he fell, they kept kicking at him. You elect not to revive Fred fully yet, first casting a pain relief spell. You examine his clothed torso, feeling along his ribs, and notice that one of the bones feels out of place. You frown and continue lightly feeling along the area, and notice that he seems to be wearing a tight, thick undershirt.

“He’s got a broken rib. We’ll have to remove any garments that might constrict the area to set the bone properly. Could I ask you two to step out for a moment?” you ask, gesturing to the curtain out of the cubicle. Filch departs, but before George leaves he pauses.

“Don’t tell anyone, ok? It would break his heart,” he says seriously before stepping out.

You have little time to wonder what he means. You cut open Fred’s tee shirt and, as you suspected upon palpating his torso, find an undergarment laid tight across his chest. Like a sports bra, maybe, but why- in a flash, you understand the secret Fred was talking about the other day, and what George was saying to keep to yourself just now. It’s a binder. Of course. 

You waste no time reflecting and slice his binder cleanly down the middle to remove pressure from the area. You set about doing a complex set of spells- first checking for internal bleeding, then setting the broken bone back in place, then casting a bandaging spell so he’s not tempted to move about before it’s fully set.

“Rennervate!” you say, flicking your wand in Fred’s direction. He comes to, looking around in confusion, his eyes finally landing on you.

“How do you feel?” you ask him.

“Utter shit,” he says. “What happened, exactly?”

“Stunning spell from Malfoy or one of his goons, George said. You wound up with a broken rib from getting kicked while you were out, but the scan didn’t show anything else too terrible. Just a few bruises.”

“Those cheating bastards. I’d love to spit in their faces right now,” he says, moaning as he tries to sit up.

“Just lay down,” you say, resting your hand gently on his shoulder. “It should be pretty much healed by tomorrow morning, but it’s going to be painful until then. If you want, I can ask Pomfrey to give you something to help you sleep while I’m out fetching you a new shirt,” you offer. You pulled the blanket up to cover his chest when you finished working on his ribs, but he’s still shirtless underneath. You watch as he realizes you must have seen his chest while you were patching him up. He grimaces uncomfortably.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I’d like that shirt, please,” he says, pursing his lips. You dash off to one of the cabinets to fetch an extra set of clothes and an extra blanket, since you know he’ll be staying the night.

“Here,” you say, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” You excuse yourself to let him change, and touch bases with Madam Pomfrey. McGonagall has taken Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle, who are all fully healed, back to her office. Katie Bell is sitting on an exam table, still looking quite angry with her swollen leg propped up high. George is lurking worriedly near the door. You make your way over to him.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “Fred is going to be perfectly fine by tomorrow. Madam Pomfrey will have a look at him to make sure there’s nothing I missed, since it was a serious injury, but his rib is all patched up.” He sighs in relief.

“And don’t worry, I won’t say anything,” you add discreetly, smiling knowingly at him. He relaxes fully and nods in return. “Good luck with McGonagall. She did not look happy.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Take good care of him,” he says, nodding towards his brother’s bed before leaving to accept his punishment.

You return to Fred’s bedside to find him looking quite sheepish.

“Feeling okay?” you ask softly. 

“Sure. Bit embarrassed. I wasn’t hoping you’d find out like this, you know.”

“Your big secret is that you’re trans? Freddie, who in the world would care about that?”

“I dunno, some people.”

“Uh, yeah, bigots,” you say, laughing. “I certainly don’t care. I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Thanks to you. Wanna sit?” he asks sweetly. You can’t say no, so you agree to wait with him at least until Pomfrey comes in to look him over.

“So, did you ever talk to that girl?” you ask, trying to make small talk after all the excitement. He looks at you like you’re a nutcase. 

“Y/N, are you thick?” he laughs hard, causing him to wince and hold his torso. He gasps in pain, but grins through it. “Honestly, who did you think I was interested in?” he asks, biting back laughter. You look at him, your cheeks hot. What is he getting at?

“How should I know? I hardly see you, outside of keeping you alive in here,” you say defensively.

“Wow, I thought for sure you knew. I was so embarrassed when you didn’t say anything, I’ve been avoiding you for weeks!” 

“What? Why?” you ask, but it quickly dawns on you what you may’ve been missing. “Wait… what?!” you say, your hand flying to your mouth.

“Yep, you got it.”

“You like me?”

“Yes, you idiot!”

“Come here,” you say. You lean down and plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, but he pulls you in gently for a real kiss, a long one. You feel so much tension you didn’t even know you were holding in leave your body, and stand back up, laughing big, just as Madam Pomfrey parts the curtain.

“Well, everyone seems in good spirits in here,” she says. You both nod awkwardly.

“Y/N has been taking such good care of me I hardly knew I was hurt,” Fred says cheerfully. Pomfrey gives him a quick once over, agrees with your diagnoses and treatment, and leaves you two alone once again. 

“You know, we have got to stop meeting like this,” Fred says, looking up at you. “Not that you don’t look lovely in your apron.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“How about a date?”

“I certainly wouldn’t object to a nice evening with a ruggedly handsome young man,” you say, giggling gleefully. He flashes a big smile, showing off his chipped tooth.

“Well, it’s a deal. You get me up and going again and I treat you to dinner,” he says.

“Deal! I've got to go, though,” you say, planting a sneaky kiss on him before you leave, “I am at work, after all.” You practically float out the door, proud of your work in more ways than one. Fred Weasley. Yours at last. 

[infinitegalahad]

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO

Summary: Eugene was always there to let you that you were beautiful.

Word-Count: 2.3k

Warnings: PLEASE!! READ!!! Trigger warnings for eating disorder, insecurity, and lots of angst. But there is going be lots of fluff and some self care from your’s truly!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @easy-company-tradition @liebgotttme @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @capsparkyspeirs

Notes: f! reader. uh oh...not not writing a self insert for my bulimia and eugene roe comforting me because my therapist told me to eat more (which totally solves all my problems)? Never! ;DDDD...enjoy!!

Masterlist | Request A Prompt!

Your stomach growled and twisted as you hunched over the toilet, tears spilling from your eyes as you forcefully threw up the mass amount of food you had just eaten. Every bite felt like you were eating copious amounts of a forbidden fruit. It was your favourite, and you used to love eating (y/f/f) all the time-but now, you would barely keep it down.

Soon after eating, the guilt began to overtake your body. It was hard to ignore it as the warm feeling in your throat began to rise. It felt tingly and you had only one remedy on how to make it better-running to the bathroom and sticking a finger down your throat: watching everything come out as deformed and clunky.

Saliva dropped from your noses as you began to wipe it as tears streamed down your flushed face. The pain wasn’t ending, and you knew another round was set to come.

When you're a little girl, you didn’t think much of your body or how you looked. Little girls, or no child for the matter should have had to worry about what they looked like. But as you got older, the social norms and your body began to change. Other girls around you were thin, while you felt indifferent. You were made fun of not looking “thin”, which triggered a whole set of emotions. And so you took comfort in food, since it was the only thing that never judged you.

And yet food would soon become your enemy. You learned how to befriend, and also stab it in the back. Your relationship with food has formed into a minute where you could tolerate them, and then the other you had to get it out of your system. After eating meals, it became a habit for you to do so. Some days, you could tolerate being around it. Others, you would barely see if for days-if not weeks.

Your thoughts were overtaken by a large gulp in your throat, which resulted in the food you had binged coming out. Tears came from your eyes as you cried. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just be normal and pretty? Why was life so unfair to you?

You are so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice the bathroom door creak open and footsteps slowly approach your hunched figure. The pattern of the footsteps was already too familiar to you. Goosebumps went up your spine as you refused to look at him, embarrassed and guilted. Eugene was the last person you wanted to discover your monstrosity.

“Hey…” You managed to say, attempting to sound put together, which was the total opposite of what you currently where.

Eugene sunk down to your level and placed a hand on your back, rubbing small circles. Tears began to form at your eyes as you looked down, feeling it come again. Eugene grabbed your hair as you threw up, letting out a pained moan.

“I’m here, you’re okay,” Eugene cooed, letting you finish up. His soft accent was reassuring to you, but your heart rate increased. “Did it happen again?”

“Nothing is happening. I’m fine.” You lied, but knew that it was a shit lie and that Eugene was smart enough to see. He was your boyfriend and knew you better than anybody else did in the world-besides you.

“You’re not fine. Don’t lie to me, cher.”

You slowly move your head up to look at him. Eugene looks tired, and so do you. Your eyes are puffy from crying, cheeks red, lips quivering, goosebumps all over your skin, heavy breathing- a total mess. A pig is what you would refer to yourself as. The outfit you had worn today was too tight forming and showed off the parts of your body that you wanted the world not to see. You looked like a ugly rat in your eyes, the vision of a disfigured body clouding your vision.

Instead of using your words, you break down once again. Eugene is there to watch you, pulling you into him as you sob uncontrollably. You act like a child to its mother, clasping into Eugene for dear life as you stain his white shirt with tears. He doesn’t mind this since he loves you, and you know that. But how could he, someone so beautiful on the inside and out, be with someone like you-a slob? Eugene didn’t see you as any of the things you would describe yourself as, and you still couldn’t understand why he has chosen to stick around for four years (and counting).

“I’m sorry,” Is all you could cough through your tears. Eugene is running his hands up and down back, his fingers occasionally getting tangled in your hair as he straightens it out. He pulls you from his chest as he cups your face, tenderly pushing your loose hair behind your shoulders to get a better view of your pretty face.

Eugene caresses your cheeks, getting a feel of your soft (y/s/c). “No need to be. Jus’ wanna make sure your ok.”

“I’m not. I…” Letting out a frustrated sigh, the waterworks come back into play. Eugene, being the angel he is, stays quiet as his thumbs wipe the tears away. Gathering your words, you continue on, “I never have been. Look at me, I can’t control it. I don’t know what to do. I-“

“Hey, hey, hey. Your heart’s racin’, settle down.” Eugene reassured in a calming voice not to shut you up, but to calm you. Your skin is shaky and sweaty and your heart is banging against your ribcage. Eugene feels the guilt tug at his heart-he hates to see you in such a distressed state. “Let me help you. Here,”

Eugene slides his arms under your armpits and gently helps your up. Leading you to the living room, he places you on the couch as he runs to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water. He drops it out and pats you on the head before running back to the kitchen. You don’t want to drink, but Eugene would have a hissy fit if you didn’t. Reluctantly, you take a sip and swish it in your mouth before slowly gulping it.

Eugene returns a minute later with a cup of tea in his hand. He places in on the counter, putting a coaster under. Looking down, you can smell the sweetness. It’s your favourite; an orange spice with a dab of honey.

“Drink up ‘dat wata’ before you drink the tea. You’ll fell more refreshed after, and the tea will help with the dryness in your throat,” Eugene explained. He admired you as he placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing circles into them. As you drank your water, you forced a smile and put your hand on top of yours.

“Angé, I’m worried ‘bout you,” Eugene confessed, “You look sad, and when you’re sad-I’m sad.”

“Genie, please,” Is all you could mutter to say. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been dealing with this all my life. It’ll go away in a few hours, and I’ll be all smiles again. I promise.”

Eugene still feels guilty. He’s been around sister’s, older and younger to know what your problem is. The vomiting, the excuses, the insecurity, everything was adding up. What had saddened Eugene is that it was a lifelong issue, and it had gone untreated, and had progressively gotten worse.

“I don’t need you to force yourself to be happy. I want to help you ‘cause I love you, ma douce beauté.”

“But-“

Eugene placed a sweet kiss into your hair, “No. You stay ‘ere, docter’s orders. I’ll be right back.”

“Eugene-“

As he began to walk away, he turned around with a smile and pointed fingers. “What did I say?”

You put a finger down in defeat as you laid back, sipping on your tea. Hearing his footsteps fade into the bathroom and the water running, the tension from your shoulders disappeared as the sweet honey in the tea eased the frustration in your body. Doctor's orders, after all.

The sound of the water running in the opposite caused you to look up and see Eugene walking through the door. He came over at sat right beside you with open arms. Gene wasn’t vocal, but he was begging for your consent to hold you and comfort you. Scotting over, you slide into his arms and cuddle into his chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to see that.” You mumbled into his chest, drawing little circles into them.

“No need to,” Eugene responded into your hair, planting a lingering kiss, “I just hate to see you feelin’ like ‘dis. You’re gorgeous-inside and out.”

“Gene-“

“No, ‘sha. You are.”

“But-“

A finger was placed on top your lips, slowly trailing down your chin as it was tilted up to look at Eugene. “You’ve got a great heart, soul, and body, ma petite fleur. Why can’t you see that?”

Growing frustrated, you removed Eugene’s hand and sat up, letting out a sigh. “You see something that I can’t see. I want to see it-but I can’t. I’ve never seen it, and when you say that...it just spins out of control.” Eugene sat next to see you, a hand on your thigh, listening to every word. You continued on, “I’m not trying to sound ungrateful but-you’re amazing for being my boyfriend through all of this. I know it’s not easy but...thank you.”

Eugene was the one who first knew about your eating disorder. When first meeting you, he was starstruck. Not only were you a beautiful person, but a beautiful soul. You were enchanting, and Eugene could listen to you talk for ages. But as time flew on, he became suspicious. Behind your smiles, something was terribly wrong. You would barley touch your food, wear looser clothing, say self deprecating jokes to the point where it seemed serious, and numerous concerning comments and actions. It caused Eugene to worry. He didn’t want to diagnose you officially, but he knew you had an earring disorder. So he did what Eugene knew he did best; comfort and beg you to take of yourself.

Babe Heffron, out of all the people, was the one who walked on you violently puking. He freaked out and ran to Eugene, which caused a whole shit show. From that day on, Eugene could no longer stand around and watch you hurt yourself. He made you get help, whether you liked it or not.

And it was the moment you realized that you were in love with him, and so did he.

Yes, you were getting proper help for your issues, but what was it truly helping? Your eating disorder would have food and bad days-and Eugene was always there. But the more he begged for you to eat, the more you couldn’t. One look at your body and it would trigger those horrid thoughts. You were so hungry, but you could barely eat.

“And The thing is-I’m trying to get better,” You responded as your voice cracked, “I see the therapist, I take the medication, I just…”

Seeing your shakiness, Eugene pulled you close and stroked your hair once again, whispering sweet words into your ear. “ ‘Dat’s all you can do, ‘cherie. I know you’re tryin’, you’re the bravest girl I know. I know I seem a lil’ pushy at times, and I’m sorry,” He paused before continuing, “I just worry bout you, a lot. But I need to know; what can I do that will help you? Beggin’ you to eat ain’t helpin. Montre-moi comment t'aider, ma petite colombe. Je veux enlever toute ta douleur.”

A smile curved on your cheeks as you nuzzled into his cheek, “No judgement?”

Eugene shook his head, eyeing for you to go.

Taking a second to think, you leaned back to look at your Cajun boyfriend with his pale skin and pretty dark hair.

“You’re you, I’m me. This path...is one I go down alone. You can hold my hand, but this path is mine to walk. This is my battle to fight. My recovery will take time and patience. I know I seem ungrateful, but I walk down this road alone. The only person that can fix this is me, and me alone.”

Eugene paid attention to the way your lips moved, seemingly understanding every word. Sure, it wasn't what he wanted. If he has this way, he would grab a magic wand and wish all your problems away, holding you close and protecting you from the evil’s of the world.

But even Eugene knew that the world was cruel, but a beautiful place. He couldn’t protect you from all the bad.

He showed you a subtle smile, “Ok.” He scooted closer to you, grabbing your hand, “On your bad days, can I ask you what you need from me? How can I support you? How can I do anything?”

“Yes, of course you can.” You shook your head. “You know how amazing you are, Eugene?”

“Says the amazing one. You’re so brave. My brave lady.” Eugene planted a kiss on your lips. It was gentle and soft, just like Eugene. He muttered small saying’s through the small gasps of air, such as how beautiful you were.

“Baby, promise me somethin’.”

“Yes, Genie?”

“Don’t lose sight of the importance your love has on every aspect of our life, especially you. Got me?”

“I got you, genie. Always and forever.”

Eugene lead you away from the couch and into your bathroom. Being the gentleman he was, he asked if you wanted any tea or drinks after your bath. The bath had overflown, the water dripping onto the white tiles as the noise of the water splashing into the tub ran. You noticed the candles lit all over the small bathroom and the magnolias he had picked from your garden, lying lazily on the water.

Eugene panicked, but you walked over and planted a quick kiss on your cheek. It was ok, you were okay-he was okay.

You both we’re gonna be okay.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #239: Late Night of the Super-Stars!

January, 1984

1984! Can’t wait to make a bunch of Orwell jokes that are poorly thought out and land poorly!

But I guess it’ll have to wait since we’re on Late Night with David Letterman in this issue.

This sure is an interesting turn of events. Although the team we see on the cover doesn’t seem to be the actually active roster. They’re over in the corner box turned away - either from shame or because they’re off doing their own thing.

Because its Assistant Editors’ Month!

A fun-sounding non-event. Although, looking it up, very few books that were considered part of the event actually did anything with it beyond a slightly goofy issue box on the cover.

So we’re going to see some Avengers go on a talk show today.

Superheroes as celebrities! What a novel idea.

Anyway, I learned an interesting detail about the cover that would have totally missed me. The checkerboard strip at the top was a hallmark of DC comics around this time. And the round MC logo in the top right is an obvious spoof of the DC logo from this time.

It’s not much more than a goof for this book but the Captain America book released for Assistant Editors’ Month also had the checkerboard and logo and was a style parody of DC comics.

Last times: Vision went into a robo-coma from walking into an invisible dome created by Annihilus and only recently recovered the ability to talk. New Avenger Starfox hooked Vision up to ISAAC the Titan computer and overclocked Vision’s robot brain so now he can project himself as a hologram and has an even faster computer brain. At the end of Avengers #238, the Avengers got a call from Tigra about some nonsense going on in San Francisco involving Spider-Woman.

Meanwhile, Hawkeye got a whole miniseries all to himself where he met Mockingbird, lost his job at Cross Technological, his girlfriend revealed that she was paid to date him and also hated him, he teamed up with Mockingbird to uncover an evil scheme by Crossfire to kill all superheroes, Hawkeye lost his hearing by putting an ultrasonic arrowhead in his mouth but foiled the scheme plot, and married Mockingbird. He’s had a very busy week or so!

This time: Hawkeye comes back to the Avengers Mansion to show off his cool new wife.

Hawkeye: “Hey, everybody -- your wanderin’ boy Hawkeye has come home... And you’ll never guess what I’ve gone and done!”

I can just imagine Mockingbird replying “Me” with the biggest shit-eating grin. She feels the sort to do that.

When Hawkeye and Mockingbird arrive there’s no one to greet them except the floating disembodied hologram head of the Wizard of Vizh.

Hawkeye has also made the decision, for some reason, to not wear the hearing aid that Mockingbird got him so he can’t hear what Vision is saying when he compliments his new costume.

Mockingbird introduces herself for Hawkeye and Vision tells the two to join him in the medical labs so they can catch up.

When they arrive, Vision raises his volume so Hawkeye can hear and recaps everything that’s happened to lead up to him becoming a robot in a tube who can hologram around.

Vision: “[Starfox] set up a direct link between ISAAC, the world-computer of Titan, to better diagnose my condition. But, instead, my brain became overloaded with ISAAC’s energy-information matrix --!”

Hawkeye: “And you became several with the universe, right?”

Vision: “‘Several with the’ --? Oh -- hah-ha! Very witty!”

Overclocking his brain seems to have done wonders for Vision’s sense of humor.

He even finds Hawkeye funny now.

Vision also explains where the dickens everyone else is (because Hawkeye asks him where the dickens they are. Its so weird for Hawkeye to say dickens).

Jarvis was given the day off to visit his mother, Captain America and Thor are both busy with nonsense in their own books, and the rest of the Avengers are off to San Francisco because of that call from Tigra.

Hawkeye offers to fly out and give them a hand, which Vision declines since they’ll call if they need help.

Instead he asks Hawkeye how he met Mockingbird and Hawkeye recaps the miniseries in only five panels.

He’s better at this than I am...

Hawkeye: “Anyway, Mockingbird and I had made a pretty good team -- so when it was all over, we ran off and got married!”

Mockingbird: “What can I say? The big lug needed somebody to keep him out of trouble!”

That’s the task of a lifetime, Bobbi. But good for you two! Cute couple is what I say.

Vision: “Marvelous! I hope you two will be as happy together as Wanda and I have been!"

Vision and Scarlet Witch probably are the healthiest superhero marriage of this time.

Vision asks if Hawkeye and Mockingbird intend to stay in the mansion, which they do. But it’s cool because Mockingbird has security clearance from working with SHIELD so they won’t need to bother Mr. Sikorsky and agitate his hatred of living in the superhero genre.

After Hawkeye takes Mockingbird off on a tour of the mansion, Vision receives a call from his brain brother, Wonder Man.

Who, very reluctantly, is coming to the Avengers with hat in hand. So to speak.

Wonder Man: “Okay. Here’s the situation -- my acting career hasn’t been going anywhere lately! So my agent, without my approval -- used the fact that I’m a reserve Avenger to get me a booking on David Letterman’s show, and now, they want me to bring other Avengers along with me! My agent really put me in a tight spot on this one. I hate to impose, but -- !”

Vision: “It’s no imposition at all, Simon! I’ll personally call the network and confirm the Avengers’ appearance!”

Wonder Man: “You’re sure it’s no trouble?”

Vision: “None whatsoever! After all, we have many Avengers -- !”

You sure do! Not as many as you’ll have by the No Surrender days. But still.

Also, I love this can-do attitude from you, Vision!

This is a pretty low priority in terms of fighting crime and whatnot but Vision is like THIS IS EXTREMELY DOABLE, I AM THE INTERNET.

Although imagine how sad it is from Wonder Man’s perspective. His agent put him on the spot pulling sorta-rank to get Simon some media attention but the media is like ‘ok but do you have something better?’

This man is trying to improve his career and the David Letterman show looked at him and said ‘ok but what else have you got?’

Oof!

Anyway, Vision uses the superpower of being wired into the phone system to call up some extra Avengers who aren’t very busy right now.

He calls Black Panther, Beast, and Black Widow.

Their varied responses are pretty funny.

But Black Panther’s is probably the best. He interrupts a meeting with his advisers to take the call and then he’s like ‘yeah sure I can drop everything I’m doing to appear on David Letterman!’

T’Challa really would rather be doing anything but kinging.

Beast initially protests that he’s too busy with the Defenders to just jump on some Avengers business but...

Beast: “The Letterman show? Hey, why didn’t you say so?”

And Black Widow is unbusy sunbathing at the Waldorf Towers while between missions. She doesn’t really want to make a television appearance (it’s kinda counterproductive for a spy, I would guess) but Vision mentions something that has Natasha agree to be there.

Based on what happens later, I guess Vision mentions that Hawkeye will be there.

A couple hours later, ELSEWHERE, well if it isn’t our ol’ friend and punchline Fabian Stankowicz!

Remember this goofus? He attacked the Avengers right when everyone was feeling bad about Hank Pym? Iron Man easily beat him up while the rest of the Avengers breezed on by. Or when he attacked Wasp’s cool superheroine brunch? Which was a hilariously terrible idea because he got between She-Hulk and breakfast foods. Also, nobody took him very seriously there either.

I guess the Avengers didn’t bother to press charges either time because he’s not in jail. He’s at his home working on some machines while his dad criticizes how he spends his time.

Dads, amirite?

Granted, what he’s criticizing is Fabian’s tendency to pick fights with superheroes. And... granted. Not a great use of his time.

But apparently Fabian can afford all the robot suits he keeps attacking the Avengers with because he won the lottery.

So he has a pretty good position to shoot down his dad’s protests, really.

Dad Stankowicz: “Fabian, I’m glad your poor mother didn’t live to see what’s become of you... It would’ve broken her heart!”

Fabian Stankowicz: “Aw, gimme a break, old man!”

Dad Stankowicz: “‘Old man’? This is the way you talk to your father?”

Fabian Stankowicz: “What do you want, egg in your beer? Was it you who won the state lottery and got us out of the Bronx? No, it was me! I won the money, and I’ll say how it’s spent! And I’m gonna use it to make a name for myself! Me... Fabian Stankowicz!”

And when Fabian sees an ad saying that the Avengers will be on Late Night with David Letterman, he has an idea. A wonderful, awful idea.

Also, who the heck puts egg in beer?

I’ve looked it up and I get that it’s a saying but apparently the saying is based on people actually doing that! Why??

The next afternoon, at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, where the show 30 Rock and this issue of Avengers both happen, this issue of Avengers is happening.

A CBS page shows Black Widow to the green room where the other Avengers are already waiting.

Also: I know that it’s all the Avengers who weren’t busy (even though T’Challa really should have been?) but this is a fun roster.

Hawkeye, Wonder Man, Beast, Black Widow and Panther?

Heck, I could imagine this being the Marvel equivalent of the Justice League International team, one more geared for some light-hearted comedy?

Except we’re in 1984 so this predates that.

But you have Beast and Wonder Man, your comedy duo best buds. You have Black Panther and Widow being varying levels of straight man to the nonsense. And you have Hawkeye who can be very serious or very ridiculous depending on how hot-headed he’s being at the time.

This team could be hilarious!

(Avengers International. Think about it, Marvel.)

Outside the green room, our ol’ buddy ol’ punching bag, Fabian Stankowicz is in disguise as a repairman with a mustache as cover for installing some devices in the studio. Then he puts on a beard to disguise himself as Perfectly Normal Bearded Audience Member.

I appreciate his intiative although I doubt any of the present Avengers are gonna recognize this guy on sight even if he wore a t-shirt that said “I’m Fabian Stankowicz.”

Fabian Stankowicz: Boy, this is gonna be so sweet, especially after the way the Avengers made me look like a chump those last two times! This time, it’s gonna be different! This time, I’m going to have a ringside seat for the defeat of the Avengers!

Or at least the Avengers that were available to show up on the Tonight Show with David Letterman.

Y’know, I like Fabian Stankowicz. He’s just smart enough to be dangerous and dumb enough to be entertaining. I think there’s a place for an ineffectual doofus with delusions of grandeur in the foe Rolodex of any superhero team.

Meanwhile, back with said Whoever Was Availables, Black Widow and Mockingbird are meeting for the first time.

And luckily, they’re both mature adults who don’t act like you’d usually see in media when the missus meets the ex.

So with a fight to the death NOT happening in the green room, Hawkeye gets to asking Mockingbird about the errand he sent her on which was why she wasn’t in the room when Black Widow first showed up.

Presumably using every bit of skill in espionage at her disposal, Mockingbird got a copy of the questions Letterman will be asking during the show.

Because Hawkeye will be fielding the questions and he has made the decision not to wear his hearing aid. And has also made the follow-up decision that not only will he not be hearing anything tonight, he’s also definitely going to be fielding all the questions.

Mockingbird: “Why won’t you wear a hearing aid?”

Hawkeye: “No can do, sweetheart! The fewer people who know I’m half-deaf, the safer it’ll be for all of us!”

(I don’t really get this reasoning but okay, man)

Mockingbird: “Then why not let someone else be spokesman? This is supposed to be Wonder Man’s big night!”

Hawkeye: “Sure... but I’m the only active Avenger here! Give me a kiss for luck!”

Not for nothing does Mockingbird think that he can be impossible sometimes. And she’s only known him a couple weeks! She’s already come to the correct read on him in that short a time.

David Letterman starts the show with an opening monologue.

David Letterman: “Tonight... What can I say? Tonight is something really special! In fact, it’s probably the most special show we’ve had since our 'camping with Barry White’ program! Yes... hard to believe, isn’t it? But with all due respect to Mr. White -- I think that this show may be our greatest ever. But, as they say, ‘that’s for history to decide!’”

Imagine being a talk show host and getting to introduce the Avengers. Pretty neat.

I like that bandleader Paul Shaffer is wearing a Captain America jersey. Although that makes me wonder once again what merchandising is like for Marvel superheroes. 

Clearly it exists but did Cap sign off on a jersey mimicking his costume? Does he see any money from that? Or at least did he get to say that all profit goes to such and such charity?

Letterman introduces the Avengers for the audience.

(Fun how you can get a sense of their personality just by how they’re sitting. It’s the little touches that make a comic fun.)

Hm, I wonder how well the marvel public follows superhero roster changes.

I know that sometimes new Avengers rosters have gotten attention with press conferences and everything. And sometimes they just swap in and out members as personal business comes up.

Some of the people in the audience may not even recognize Black Widow as an Avenger. Becaaaaause, wait I don’t think she ever was one. She’s assisted on some missions and they were ready to vote her in when she vanished to go do a SHIELD mission.

Okay, better example, does anyone remember that Wonder Man- oh wait, he very publicly burst out of a crate in front of Avengers Mansion during press furor over a roster change. Also, he’s a pre-successful actor.

Black Pan- no, no. He was framed for killing the Avengers his very first day on the team. There was a manhunt.

And of course, everyone knows Beast was on the Avengers. He got around. Romantically.

David Letterman mentions that this group isn’t even all the Avengers because some couldn’t make it (read: were busy with more important things).

Which leads to a funny cut to audience where Beard Fabian is annoyed that this group is who got caught in his revenge scheme.

Fabian Stankowicz: Blast it, where’s Captain America? Where’s that &#%$ She-Hulk?

You better wash your brain out with soap before She-Hulk finds out you thought  that about her. She’s dunked people into the garbage for lesser offenses.

Beast decides that this Late Night interview is the best time to reveal that he’s quitting as a reservist Avenger to focus on his version of the Defenders.

Letterman: “Wow, that was some bombshell the Beast just dropped, Hawkeye! You’re group spokesman... What do you think of that?”

Hawkeye: First question -- ! “Well, David, the Avengers is a non-profit organization, fully sanctioned as a peace-keeping force by just about ever international organization you could think of!”

Letterman: “Eh-heh-heh! You don’t say!”

Oh god, Beast’s bombshell messed up the order of questions and Hawkeye is firmly sticking to script because he can’t hear.

My god, Hawkeye.

Letterman: “You know, I was just about to ask you something along those lines. You wouldn’t be psychic by any chance -- ?”

Hawkeye: “No, of the founding members, only the Wasp and Thor remain as active Avengers.”

Letterman: “You little dickens! You’ve been peeking at my question sheet, haven’t you? All right, I might as well as my next question which is... ‘I hear you were recently married! Is that true?’”

Hawkeye: “Yes, Dave... just a few weeks ago!”

Letterman: “How about that!”

Did Hawkeye just think they were going to blaze through the questions? Even if Beast hadn’t preempted the first question, did Hawkeye think that there would be no follow-up questions? No discussion?

I’ve been on the fence on whether the jokes about Hawkeye not hearing the questions are poking fun at deaf people or at Hawkeye and yeah, Hawkeye is definitely the butt of this joke.

Fabian Stankowicz loses patience for this very dry question and answer session and decides to start his attack nnnnow.

One of the studio cameras is secretly A GIANT LASER. Because. And it blasts the stage.

Mockingbird is watching this on a tiny screen in the Green Room and goes out to help only to run afoul of some kind of mechanized steamrolling dumpster.

Back in the studio, Wonder Man has found his new nemesis.

Move over, Grim Reaper. You’re one-dimensional and everyone especially me hates you. Hello, laser blasting camera.

Wonder Man: “Let me at that thing, Beast! It’s ruining my guest-shot!”

Beast: “You’ll have to wait your turn, Wondy! It just shredded my favorite shirt!”

Priorities!

You know, this was supposed to be about Wonder Man and he only got to say two words during the interview portion.

Dangit, Hawkeye.

Apppppparently, the audience is just assuming that this is all part of the show. A cliche, sure. But it makes sense.

Would you really have the Avengers on a talk show and just have them talk? That’s a waste of perfectly good superheroes.

Also.... apparently? David Letterman used to run things over with a steamroller a lot? So a steamroller looking contraption crashing through the wall to attack the Avengers does seem like something that might happen?

Also, Paul Shaffer decides to just roll with it so as not to panic the audience.

The show must go on, after all.

The steamroller also starts firing missiles at Beast, as ya do.

Beast: “Hunter missiles? I don’t believe this is happening on network tv!”

Wonder Man tries punching the steamroller to no avail but which does give Black Panther a chance to pull out the tried and true “Wonder Man’s fists carry as much bludgeoning power as Thor’s hammer!”

Y’know, originally, that was a flex that set Wonder Man as a threat to the team but after he joined, that never really seemed to actually be the case.

Imagine if Wonder Man always hit as hard as Thor’s hammer? Like, he’s minding his own business and then the Gorr the God Butcher arc happens and Wonder Man is like ‘huh, why do I suddenly feel like my punches could destroy planets light years away? That’s a very specific feeling!’

Fabian Stankowicz takes advantage of the spectacle chaos to walk out of the audience, plunk himself down into one of the interview chairs, remove his entirely convincing beard, and introduce himself to David Letterman as the guy who is definitely to blame for all the action setpieces going on.

Letterman, like Paul Shaffer, just decides to roll with it. Humor the guy. Ask him why he’s doing this.

Fabian Stankowicz: “Why? To prove it could be done! To show what one incredibly gifted individual can accomplish...”

Letterman: “... To get your name in the papers?”

Fabian Stankowicz: “That too! After all, the Avengers have battled Zodiac... the Masters of Evil... Doctor Doom! I want to make as big a name for myself as those guys!”

Letterman: “Seems to me that ‘Stankowicz’ is already a pretty big name!”

Badum pish?

He asks Fabian to explain all of his devices and Fabian is happy too.

I mean, he’s being a supervillain for the notoriety and supervillains already love to hear themselves talk so he’s double dipping into the ‘I will exposit everything at the drop of a hat’ well.

And imagine, Fabian built all this stuff in his garage with lottery winnings.

The steamroller thing isn’t just a steamroller, it’s also got a gravity generator. Which, I guess, makes sense if you’re expecting to go against a She-Hulk or a Thor. A regular steamroller isn’t going to do more than annoy.

Wonder Man fighting so hard against the roller makes it increase gravity so much that Simon and steamroller just fall through the floor.

Hm. I wonder what’s filmed in the studios the floor down. They’re about to have an exciting guest star in that steamroller.

Black Widow (still tangling with the laser camera) points Hawkeye towards Fabian. Although she has to shout and Hawkeye still doesn’t really get it but is happy to shoot an arrow at someone that Black Widow is vigorously gesturing at.

Alas, Fabian is one of those prepared villains we’ve been hearing so much about.

He built a force field too, and the arrow just bounces right off.

(Hey, uh, Hawkeye? What kind of arrow was that? Because it looks technological and you just shot it at this guy’s head)

Truly, can nothing stop this insidious yet not very menacing criminal genius?

Oh, I guess David Letterman can.

Knocks him out with a big knob.

It’s just plain big.

Prop comedy, amirite?

The audience seems to love it anyway. I looked up a clip of the big doorknob and it didn’t meet with this much applause. Maybe its because it was used to do violence this time?

Was the giant door knob a beloved part of Late Show lore?

David Letterman: “I guess that’ll teach you not to mess with David Letterman!”

That’s a line with weird energy to it.

Anyway, it would be a sad day for this random assemblage of backup Avengers if they were upstaged completely by David Letterman and his big knob.

Black Widow and Hawkeye finally manage to blow up the laser camera.

I’m not sure why it took them this long. Sure, the camera could apparently move, based on motion lines in previous panels. But the world’s best marksman couldn’t nail it sooner?

But the important thing is that eventually, they did do it.

The floor starts rumbling as well as Wonder Man flies back up with his belt-jets with the trashed roller and a shit-eating grin.

Wonder Man: “Sorry this took so long -- But I guess I’m a little rusty at tackling big hunks of tin like this!”

Fabian Stankowicz: Rusty? It took me a month to design that, and he totaled it in less than five minutes!

But since everyone’s focus is on Wonder Man (for once), Fabian tries to sneak away.

And runs smack dab into Mockingbird who has a lot of justified anger over almost getting run over by the roller earlier. But she just throws him over to some police that have finally shown up.

Letterman tells the audience not to try any of this at home, just in case any of them have gravity-generator osmium steel steamrollers lying around? And cuts to commercial, presumably so that some basic tidying can happen.

Hours after the filming of the show concludes, the Avengers TV Squad have returned to the mansion, with Vision wishing he could have taken part of this assistant editors month special issue.

Vision: “What became of Stankowicz?”

Black Panther: “Well, with all the charges NBC is leveling against him, the only machinery he’ll be dealing with for some time will be in the New York State Prison library!”

So, he attacked Avengers Mansion. He attacked Wasp’s superheroine brunch at the Van Dyne residence. That’s all well and good. He attacks the Avengers again in the NBC studio and the man is going to jail forever.

I guess the Avengers really haven’t been bothering to press charges on Fabian. But a massive media corporation isn’t so kind.

Since Hawkeye is technically the active Avenger (even though Vision’s hologram head is RIGHT there) he has to follow up on the thing Beast said about quitting the Avengers reservists.

Beast says its not right for him to be an Avengers reservist if he’s also trying to turn “the Defenders into a for-real group!”

Uh, Defenders fans? Wasn’t the appeal of the Defenders them being the not-team team? How did people feel about Beast going ‘ok but what if they were more like other teams instead?’

Meanwhile, Wonder Man is pacing, waiting for the Late Show to come on so he can see how he did when WOMP WOMP the show is interrupted by a special news bulletin.

Wonder Man is aghast that his big break isn’t even airing but when the special news bulletin is about a burning chemical barge, his hero instincts that he has suddenly swell up.

Wonder Man: “This... This is awful! What’re we standing around for? Let’s do something! We’re Avengers, aren’t we?”

Black Panther: “That we are, Simon! Let’s go!”

Beast also decides, hey, one more time won’t hurt and accepts his Avengers ID card back from Hawkeye.

And as they’re headed off to the Quinjet, Beast has a hopeful note for Wonder Man.

Beast: “Hey, Wondy -- remember, there’s a three-hour time difference between the coasts! If we can get this mess cleaned up in time, maybe some folks in California will still see you get your big break!”

Wonder Man: “And if we don’t -- ?”

Beast: “Well, that’s show biz!”

Pretty enjoyable issue! Like, sure, its a good for Assistant Editor’s Month. But if you’re going to do a goof, then you can do worse than bringing back Fabian Stankowicz for a third time’s not the charm.

Speaking of charm, having the Avengers appear on a talk show is a charming concept. Not a whole lot was done with it except the joke about Hawkeye answering the wrong questions but its still a fun idea.

And having the Avengers off busy lets us brush off some Also Avengers that haven’t been in play for a bit. That’s a fun idea that I wouldn’t mind seeing some more.

Have the reservists called in because of a situation happening when the Avengers are already busy.

Heck, I’d like to see a situation where the silliest and least regarded Avengers are the only ones available to respond to an emergency. Have them bounce off each other as a group. Maybe they’re mutually aware of their bad reputations.

Anyway, I expected this issue would be ridiculous but it was also enjoyable. Didn’t mind it at all. And (though by a different writer) the Hawkeye miniseries was very enjoyable too.

This is just feeling like a good era for the Avengers team.

Next time, apparently The Ghost of Jessica Drew. So she’s some kind of ghost spider? Nobody tell Carol Danvers.

Follow @essential-avengers​ because I typed this post partially while a cat was lying on my wrist. That’s dedication. Which you can’t spell without cat. Also, like and reblog if you think its likeable and rebloggable.

[always5hineee]

Profit Margin- Chapter 11: One Time Offer

Chapter warnings: Mild language and mention of intense themes

Word count: 1507

-----

       "State your name."

       "Y/N..."

       "Full name."

       "Y/N... (M/L) L/N."

       She answered all of his preliminary questions with ease. Age, heritage, living situation, parental situation, life prior to her kidnapping, etcetera. It became a bit stranger when he started asking about... stranger concepts. Childhood trauma. Experience with weapons. Ever having been threatened with a weapon. Sexual assaults, familial or otherwise. Experience with anxiety. Experience with depression. Any mental or physical diagnoses. Past relationships. Although she felt that all of these were quite intrusive, she answered as honestly as possible.

       The entire time, he had been jotting things down on some sheet of paper. After he had stopped, he started asking her to walk him through the steps of what the people who knew her were going through right now. Would they look for her? What were the chances of her getting rescued? At this point, she became even more confused. Was he trying to gauge the danger of holding onto her for so long? But in that case, why ask the other questions?

       When it seemed he was satisfied, he stood from his desk, looking at her.

       "Well, I wouldn't say you're much more special than I had initially expected, but you do intrigue me to some extent." Looking up to the area behind her, he tapped on the desk, causing a change in the room. While the back and front walls remained unchanged, the two side walls shifted colors, becoming windows. They had been some form of one-way mirror? Now, she saw Lucas, Xiaojun, and Hendery lined up on the left, and YangYang, Ten, and a third person on the right. Looking closely, her heart sank as she saw the familiar form of yet another of her idols... WinWin.

       "All of them have been listening to your answers. Now, we hold a debate, followed by a vote. Of course, I make the decisions, but I've rarely given any executive orders. We function as a group." Raising his hands, he said quite loudly, "You can all come in." They filed in through the doors. Hendery was smiling slightly creepily as usual, Ten and Xiaojun were stoic, YangYang and WinWin looked fairly nonchalant, and Lucas looked incredibly worried.

       "I am willing to allow Y/N to train as a member of our backup team." Kun stated bluntly. Of course, we'll have to find a way to control and test her actual loyalty, as well as keep her ready for sale should it not work out. Aside from that, our other option is to dispose of her immediately." He finished. "On that note, feel free to discuss."

       "I think the answer is clear here." Hendery was the first to jump in. "Do we really want to allocate all of that time, all of those resources, into such a shaky investment? What happens if she kills us and escapes? Or gets us caught? We should just take our half a mil and go."

       "At the same time, added support could make for a better return." WinWin mentioned. "We've always been seven people, we're unsure if that's the peak. It could be that adding an eighth exponentially grows our output, and thus our funds."

       "The risk is too high." Hendery shot back. "Plus, who's gonna want to take the effort to train her?"

       "I'd do it." Ten cut in. She was surprised, but even Kun seemed as though he wasn't expecting it.

       "Alright, so we have two votes for keep, one for reject." Kun tallied up. "Any other weigh-ins?"

       "I'd warn you that if you want her back up to her initial value, we'd have to treat her bruises and other wounds. We have yet to check up on the actual damage." Xiaojun cut in. "It could take me anywhere from a week to a month to completely restore her. In that case, you'd have the time to test this little theory out."

       "Three for yes. YangYang?"

       "I... honestly don't even care." the boy shrugged. "If Ten's the one dealing with her, that's no skin off my back. If you want me to pick a side, though, I kinda have to agree with Hendery. As much as I like the idea of money, it just seems a little risky."

       "Two no, three yes? Lucas, you could even it out if you wanted, or make it a majority. What do you think?" The blood drained from Lucas's face, obviously worried. On the one hand, they were already suspicious of his relationship to Y/N, but on the other, if he went against her, it was all up to Kun. Swallowing hard, he looked over to her.

       "I trust WinWin's judgement on financials, so my vote is keep." He steadied his voice. "We'll just have to keep an eye on her. If something goes haywire, there are plenty of people willing to pay good money for young girls." As he said this, Hendery's expression changed from passive amusement to sheer infuriation. Kun ignored the tension, addressing the decision.

       "In that case, it looks like Y/N is here to stay. Ten, walk her with Xiaojun to the medical bay, get her cleaned up. You get one chance to train her properly. Worst case scenario, if something goes completely wrong, we can sell her in parts. Lucas, you stay, I want to speak with you." Her heart skipped beat. Shit. Had she gotten him in trouble? He looked sick to his stomach as he walked towards Kun's desk, but she couldn't stay to see as Xiaojnun and Ten took her away.

       "Do we need to restrain you?" Ten asked.

       "No."

       "Good." They led her towards what she assumed was the medical bay, on yet another different floor. They asked if she knew where the stairs were, and she explained that she was actually very unfamiliar with the entirety of the building. Understanding, he promised to show her around after they checked her out.

       When they arrived at the medical bay, she looked around in awe. There was a long room with what had to have been ten sets of cots, each with open curtains between each. They had her follow them to the back, where there was a thin door. Upon opening it, she saw a few real beds, several large tables, and the walls lined with counters and cabinets- it was a weird mix of sleeping quarters and a doctor's office.

       "Here, sit down." Xiaojun offered, patting a hand on the bed. "Are you wearing anything under that?" Her eyes widened in horror as he asked this. She began sputtering for an answer, trying to decide whether to run or slap him. "No, no! Not like that!" He said in a loud, awkward voice, noting her expression. "I- I just meant so that I could look at your bruises properly- Not-"  She mentally scorned herself for reacting so poorly.

       "O-oh, yeah, it's fine."

       "Okay, well in that case, Ten, do you mind stepping out?" The man looked slightly hesitant, but nodded and turned around to leave.

       "I'll be outside the door." Xiaojun nodded in agreement. As he pulled together his tools, she awkwardly took off the dress. She knew many fans of WayV had probably dreamed of taking off their clothes in front of a member, but definitely not like this... He instructed her to lay down flat, pulling on a pair of disposable rubber gloves.

       "Alright, tell me if this hurts." He pressed a hand to her side, assumedly because there was some bruising there. Although it was a bit achy, that was the case for most of her body, so she said nothing. "Okay, next." They continued this process for a few minutes. When he pressed against one of her thighs, the spot that had been banged into the floor caused her to wince. She didn't mention it, but he noticed easily. In addition, one of her upper arms was badly bruised, along with her temple.

       "It seems like you have no broken bones or serious organ damage, just heavy bruising. I'll give you some countertop pain killers. If you find yourself having PTSD or going into shock: nightmares, anxiety, all of that, you just let me know, okay?" She nodded, crossing her legs awkwardly. She didn't feel comfortable without the dress, as much as she had hated it before. Taking the gloves off, he opened a few cabinets, pulling out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, a little white bottle, and a pair of flip flips.

       "It isn't much, but it'll be nicer than having to wear the dress. You can wear these for now, I'll have Ten take you down to the closet on your way to the training grounds. We'll be outside, you can come when you're ready." He left the room, leaving her on the bed. Well, apparently they trusted her enough not to find a scalpel in here and skin them alive. She knew she wouldn't be successful. It would be best to bide her time for now...

Go to Chapter 12

[pollenallergie]

Dualism: A Hemlock Grove Fanfiction by yours truly

Chapter Two

Can I Watch?

based on Hemlock Grove's second episode of its first season, which is called "The Angel"

part six/final part:

   "What?" Sawyer asked in disbelief.

   "What you did out there, that was you finally utilizing your powers and finally realizing that you even possess such powers," Their grandmother explained before coming to sit in between the two siblings on Sawyer's bed. The siblings simply sat there in silence, shell-shocked by what their grandmother was telling them, by what she was suggesting to be the truth, their truth. Their silence unintentionally served as a cue for their grandmother to continue, so she did just that.

   "They surfaced when you were thirteen, as most witches' gifts do, but your father, ever the naive disbeliever, forbid your grandfather and me from telling you about them; chalking our genuine concern up to dementia and out-dated superstition," Their grandmother said, beginning her long-winded explanation.

   "I've always struggled with keeping your gift a secret because, as a witch myself, I know how important the first years of womanhood are for a witch. Your grandfather, however, understood your father's naivety, explaining to me that it was of no one's fault but our own," Their grandmother continued before Sawyer finally piped up and asked a question.

   "What do you mean?" Sawyer asked causing Luke to scoff.

   "Don't tell me you're seriously buying into all of this. You're not, right?" He questioned aloud while internally questioning both his grandmother's and his sister's sanity.

   "Well," Their grandmother began, ignoring her grandson's doubts, "your father's grandparents, my mother, and father, died while I was a child, so they were never able to inform him; and as for your grandfather's parents, they were just as naive as your father. You see, they too believed that my belief in witchcraft was just the result of my belief in whatever seemingly-absurd, foreign superstitions I had been learned as a child growing up in Holland, so they weren't able to inform him either. This left all the pressure of educating him about my family's history on our shoulders, which wouldn't have been a problem normally, but it was for us."

   "Why's that?" Sawyer asked growing intrigued.

   "Don't entertain this bullshit," Luke warned his sister causing their grandmother to send a glare in his direction.

   "Well, We had planned on waiting to tell your father of the family's hereditary heirloom when he had children of his own rather than when he became of age, this is because we felt that it wasn't important for him to know at that time." Their grandmother explained.

   "Why not?" Sawyer asked causing her brother to roll his eyes out of annoyance.

   "Dear, that was because he's a male and my family's form of the genetic mutation only affected females. Also, because he was an only child with no sisters and because there was never any chance of him meeting his female cousins and aunts from my side of the family seeing as they all lived back in Holland. So, because of this, we held off on telling him and planned to do so for a while, well, that was until your mother told us she was pregnant with your brother, David. You see, we had always planned on telling him when he was expecting his first born, however, we got scared of how he would react and failed to inform him. Although, we were somewhat okay with our failure because we knew, from the sonogram pictures, that your parents were expecting a son. So, we decided that we would hold off a little while longer, just until he had a daughter. We had even gone so far as to plan that we would tell him on our deathbed, should he never have had a daughter, so that he could inform his children before they had any of their own. We were quite content with this plan so we stuck it, and six years later when your mother told us that she was pregnant with you, we had planned to abide by it; however, our fear once again held us back from doing so the night you came into the world. So we never did, and just one short year later, it overpowered us once again, preventing us from informing your parents when your brother was born, that's you, my dearest Dempsy," Their grandmother explained causing Luke to grimace as the sound of his birth-given name.

   "So when did you tell him?" Sawyer inquired.

   "Yeah, and does our mom know about all of your kooky, dutch-folklore-based, wizardry bull?" Luke asked, self-censoring as to not offend his grandmother more than he already had at that point.

   "I told him on the eve of your thirteenth birthday, but by then it was no use. You see, your grandfather and I were already of old age at this point and we had even both been diagnosed with a moderate form of dementia, which is quite common for seniors like myself to have, so you're father rationalized it all to being a figment of your grandfather and I's old minds, which he knew were prone to playing tricks on us and making us believe other forms of foolish nonsense to be the truth, and, thus, chose not to believe us," their grandmother said, responding to Sawyer's question first and then pausing shortly before responding to Luke's, "Also, to answer your brother's question, no, Dempsy, your mother does not know, she was already long gone at that point, as I'm sure you know; and it's not wizardry, dear, its witchcraft."

   "So you admit this witch stuff is both foolish and nonsensical?" Luke asked, referring to how she had said her old brain had made her believe, previously, that 'other forms of foolish nonsense' were true.

   "Of course it is, but it is still the truth nevertheless," Their grandmother replied.

   "If you don't believe me, then take a look for yourself," Their grandmother said, filling the silence that had loomed in the moments preceding her previous reply. She then handed Luke a worn, old book with a leather cover and a shiny gloss painted on the outer ridges of the pages inside, making it appear as if the pages were made of gold when really they were just normal, now faded pieces of paper, as one would discover when they opened it.

   "What's this?" Luke questioned.

   "It's a book, a family heirloom," Their grandmother explained.

   "What does 'puer salutem pythonissam' mean?" Sawyer asked, repeating aloud what was engraved on the front of the old, leather cover.

   "It means 'the life of a young witch' in Latin. This book was your great, great, great grandmother's Book of Shadows, well actually, it was her first one, she had many, each of them have different names that coincide with the contents written within them. She chose to title this one 'The Life of a Young Witch' because it served as her Book of Shadows during the beginning of her life as a witch, which, like with most, began when she was only thirteen," Their grandmother explained.

   "What's a Book of Shadows?" Sawyer asked.

   "Its like a witch's diary and personal spell-book all in one; a place where she can track her time, write of her day-to-day life, take notes on what she learns about the craft, as well as write down new spells, theories, or even tips and tricks that she comes up with during her lifetime," She explained.

   "Dempsy," Their grandmother began before being cut off by Luke.

   "I prefer to go by Luke," He reminded her.

   "Right, well, Lukas," she began once again and Luke grimaced at the sound of his middle name being used in place of the nickname it provided for him, the name Luke, which he always opted to go by over all else, "let Diana," it was now Sawyer's turn to grimace as the sound of her own birth-given name, " read it first, it's more important that she reads it right now, seeing as we need to make up for five years worth of lost time. Oh, and, Diana, please give the book to your brother when you have finished reading it."

   Their grandmother then got up and began to leave the room before suddenly stopping just a bit short and turning around to face the two siblings once again.

   "Neither of you will be going attending for the rest of the week. I'll call the office in the morning and tell them you'll both be staying home due to illness," She told them.

   "Why?" Luke asked as if he wasn't already being forced to miss school due to an actual illness.

   "So that I can teach you all about our family's history and begin to teach you the craft before your father gets home this weekend," Their grandmother explained.

   "You're going to teach it to both of us?" Luke inquired.

   "Yes."

   "Why?"

   "Because although the hereditary gifts only reside within the females of our family, the men being carriers of the gene but not actually honing the gifts, you, Lukas, can still be a witch. You can learn the teachings of the craft, practice them, and eventually become a witch yourself, it will just take you longer to become as powerful as your sister," She explained.

   "How much longer?" He asked.

   "Well, each witch is different, but on average it usually takes non-hereditary male witches ten years to reach the level of power that a hereditary female witch can reach in just over a year. However, you shouldn't lose hope, it shouldn't take you more than a few months to learn, practice, and eventually master essential magik, which is all it takes to be a true witch," Their grandmother explained.

   Their grandmother then sighed before saying, "That'll be enough, for now, my lovelies. The two of you, along with myself should be heading to bed, we'll need our rest for tomorrow, the first lesson tends to be quite challenging for a young witch, it'll certainly take a lot out of you."

   With that, the siblings' grandmother exited the room, going to her own bedroom and beginning to ready herself for bed, leaving the two teens back in Sawyer's room, alone in with their thoughts.

   "I'm gonna go take a melatonin supplement, like hell I'm gonna be able to sleep without one after all the shit she just told us," Luke said as he got up off the bed.

   "You want one?" He asked after making his way towards the exit, now leaning up against the door-frame.

   "No, I'm good, I'm probably not even gonna sleep; I might just stay up and binge-read whatever the fuck our witchy ancestor was up to a couple centuries ago," Sawyer said.

   "Oh, but, dearest Diana, young witch's must get plenty of rest before their first lesson, it can take a lot out of you," Luke said teasingly, mimicking their grandmother and causing Sawyer to laugh.

   "I wouldn't mess with her, you know. She might put hex you," Sawyer teased.

   "Ooh, I'm so scared," Luke replied sarcastically before exiting and walking down the hall towards the narrow, steep staircase, walking down it before making his way to the small closest just outside of their tiny yet quaint kitchen where their father keeps all things medicinal.

   In the meantime, Sawyer changed into her pajamas and turned off her bedroom lights, all except for lamp that sat on her bedside table, which she left on because she planned on using the dull light it admitted to help her read.

   "Goodnight," He called out to his sister as he walked back up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom shortly after taking the tiny, little, white pill that was the melatonin supplement and washing it down with a glass of water.

   "Goodnight," Sawyer replied before making herself comfortable in her bed and beginning to read, spending only a little over an hour reading it before she had dozed off, sleeping soundly with the book cradled in her arms.

-

taglist: -no one yet-

[mamomomotora]

Help me escape an abusive home.

So I already made a post like this but maybe I wasn’t clear enough. I only mentioned details of my physical state and not my mental or personal relationship with my mom.

So here, let me try again. I’m so sorry it’s going to be long winded.

Growing up I was never given any privacy of my own. And I know that’s kind of an iffy start because automatically you’d think “well you were probably a problem child.” Or “that’s just parenting.” But the direction my mother took it to was an extreme.

About the time I was 10 to even now this present year my mom has never stopped. When I was younger she would snoop through all of my things including journals cell phone records text messages and instead of just talking to me, she always found something to punish me about.

I became a super secretive person, but the more secretive I got, the better she got with snooping.

It brought me down and eventually I did develop mental problems. I became paranoid, never feeling safe and always feeling like someone is watching me. Even when I was diagnosed with depression and insomnia my mom chose to ignore it. All she ever said was “you’re fine. There’s nothing wrong with you.” Even when I had clear prescribed medication I had to take she never gave it to me.

She only chalked it up to “it should be your responsibility.” And I was 12.

I’ll give it to her that yes it should have been, but at 12 when you have clinical depression and you’re going through so many changes, medication does tend to slip your mind. I also had so many missing days, I would black out and dissociate so much when I was younger. But it’s not like my mom ever knew. She was never home and when she would come home at like 3-4am she would just walk to wherever I was sleeping and wake me up screaming at me. Telling me how I was disgusting and how she read all of my texts to every one of my friends.

Holding out cell phone records and text logs. And who was I calling all the time when it was literally only her number and a couple of friends I liked to talk to.

Unfortunately I did develop a drinking habit at 12 years old. This was fairly easy considering my mom was a big alcoholic herself and kept an open bar in the kitchen. I had easy access and she never knew.

Instead of taking care of me, instead of talking to me, all my mom ever did was yell at me and threaten to take things away. She never explained to me what I was doing that was so wrong. And I grew up not having a lot of friends for that.

My friendships strictly remained internet friendships. If I had so much as an actual close friend they had to meet certain requirements.

They couldn’t be a boy. They had to be a girl. If a boy so much as talked to me and they were my friend, I had to briskly walk away or push them away if I saw my mom.

The many times she accused me of having a boyfriend is too many to count hat eventually I thought, “fuck it.” And I started dating. Way before I even was ready just because “well if mom thinks I’m such a deviant I might as well be.”

And this wasn’t just as a kid. All the way up to now, my adult years, my mom refuses to let me go out with anyone. I’ve developed horrible anxiety due to the way I was mistreated as a child. I push everyone away and I never talk to anyone because I’m still afraid my mom will snoop through my phone or the phone records and accuse me of shit.

She still threatens to take my own personal property away. Things I’ve paid for things I’ve bought and things I was paying for. She refuses to let me go out but when she does she asks me 200 questions on where I’m going who I’m going with and if there’s one thing she doesn’t like she says no.

I’ve given up on talking to her because she cuts me off and never lets me speak. I get crippling anxiety and I’m reduced to tears if she so much as questions me.

When I didn’t have a car I remember I wanted to go out with a friend. She was going to pick me up and my mom wasn’t home. She actively called my brother and told him to watch me leave and see who it was picking me up. Just to make sure I wasn’t lying. It’s so u fair because she never treats my brother like this. Neither of them. One is 12 and the other 22. They’re both allowed to have friends over they’re allowed to have fun. But not me. She has her eyes strictly only on me at all times.

And when I do rarely ever get the courage to talk to her, she accuses me of manipulating her and attacking her. And she knows that I really don’t want to hurt her, because despite everything I really love my mom. I do, but enough has become enough and even after I’ve done all I could for her she never thanked me. She never tried to take care of me even when something was visibly wrong. Even though my depression and anxiety have been worse throughout the years. She’s never seen what I’ve done to try to make her happy. When she broke her back I almost didn’t graduate because I was so broken about it. When I try to care for her or ask her if she’s okay it doesn’t feel natural.

I’m extremely torn between mylove for her and my disdain. All her and my stepdad do are complain about what I can’t do. They’ll borrow money from me and take ages to pay me back.

They still owe me money but I’ll never get it back looks like.

But this is why I need help. I have a job but it can only do so much by November/December. That’s when I’m planning on leaving because it’s so hard I can’t take it anymore. It’s detrimental to my health. Both physical and mental. I haven’t been cared for all these years and I’ve been suicidal for many. I don’t want to live like this anymore that’s why I’m begging.

I know where I’m going, and I won’t be alone. What scares me is the 2,000 mile road trip I’ll be needing to take. And with expenses and potential rent I’m going to need a small amount to keep me up when I arrive. I won’t have a job it’ll all be a new start.

Here’s my original post explaining the remainder of the situation

Venmo: @Marissa-Arambula-1

I don’t have anything else other than that. I’m so sorry to plague your dash with this again. But thank you if you have read it, it means a lot to me. I’m sorry.

[moderndayshinigami]

Ugh. 4am insomnia rant to help clear my anxiety

My landlord is being so fuckin sketchy. Landlord showed up in February for a walk through for resigning our half of the duplex. That's fine, except landlord was 30 minutes early while B was still in a Zoom meeting and I was trying to last minute clean. Our bedroom was full of about 3 months worth of dirty clothes and I had just finished scooping literboxes without any smell masks like candles, insense, or air freshener. So like. The apartment stank. I get that. Landlord messages us a week later giving us 45 days to clean up and get rid of the smell. Fine. Can do. So while I'm working 6 days a week, my one day off weekly has been spent cleaning every inch of the apartment to get rid of whatever smell.

Well, at the end of April, our neighbor says there's a gag worthy smell somewhere in the shared basement. B takes her down to identify where but she can't place it and it had faded within 40 minutes. Within a conversation with Landlord, I suggest sewage gas as they have been working on the sewer down the street for a month now. In January, the sewer had backed up into the basement which I had documented and informed landlord, so it is a plausible thing.

2 days later landlord notifies us that landlord's nephew will be stopping by to mow and asked if any of us could help him unload the mower. He didn't show up that day.

Less than a week after the mysterious gag smell incident, landlord sends us a picture of a letter saying landlord and "friends" as well as nephew (who I havent seen and grass hasnt been mowed) had been around the apartment "a couple of days ago" and smelled a strong odor coming from our side, permeating onto the screen porch and even to the shared basement under the apartment. With that landlord sent a text saying "I'm open to doing your walk through before the 15th if you'd like"

Now, I've been scrubbing this place within an inch of its life for a month, changed cat liter to stronger smell catching stuff, put up numerous airfresheners, including on the porch and down stairs and haven't seen anyone on our security camera at the front door. I'll give the stank in February. I fell behind with cleaning when we had the Plague(tm) in January and hadn't quite gotten caught back up with laundry because that is the hardest for me to do because of how long it takes. But since then? This place is clean. Dishes done, laundry down stairs, cat boxes scooped every other day, trash out every 3 days. Swept, mopped, dusted, febreezed (i hate febreeze), baking soda'd, dusted again because baking soda dust, bed linens washed and rewashed, caprets sprayed, taken out and beaten, some thrown away. WHAT FUCKING SMELL, LANDLORD?? TELL ME SO I CAN FIX IT

Or, are you just trying to give an excuse for us not to resign with you? Like. Just say, "I'm not planning to offer the lease again. Sorry." You don't need to mentally abuse me into thinking my entire house reeks so much no one can stand it 'cause that shit is going to stick with me for the rest of my life. Thanks.

Cool. Part two because everything happens so much. While dealing with landlord, Bossman has been trying to pull some shit at work too.

Monday before Gag Smell, he pulls me and ny bff coworker into the office and basically says this karate school branch isnt making enough, so we need to cut you(me) to part time. My coworker was already on part time so they couldnt reduce her hours any more. It would be 4 days of about 6 hours. They also were going to have another head instructor come in on the day I was off since were open 5 days. This head instructor has the OPPOSITE teaching style from me. It's not bad, he's a great instructor, but he tends to NOT GIVE A FUCK about how anyone around him is feeling or how some students react. I have several students with diagnosed anxiety and/or autism that his style would just nerf them.

Coworker talks to me after meeting to say that she is going to put her 2 weeks in now because she was less than 24 hours from hearing if she had gotten the other job she had applied for (which she did. It's a great fit and she's super happy). That way I can keep my full time. I agree since she talked it out with her family and was planning to give it anyway.

On top of that I write a letter explaining that Other Instructor needs to listen to how I teach and be aware of stepping on my toes, how I'm going to need a raise because I'm doing the work of two full time employees and that i need a few days to actually think about staying at that job because there's a lot of bullshit going on and I'm not a fan.

Bossman asks for a meeting, which, fine, we do need to talk. He spends most of it saying "we're going to authorize over time and you'll get double bonuses and Other Instructor will do his best" and I'm like. You're paying head instructor at 3rd location $22/hour. Pay me that much for 2 jobs. I'll let Other Instructor work with me but he's going to be my bitch when he's here and I'll work over time when it's needed, whether you authorize it or not but telling me that it's ok with you doesnt give me more money per hour. And I hope to hell I'm getting double bonus. I'm doing all the work.

I gave them a week to give me solid numbers about the raise etc. That was this monday. I asked for a $5.68/hour raise to match the same position at another location. I got the $0.68 and that was a struggle. I'm on the (paid) days off for my decsion and honestly, if B hadn't just gotten a raise and new position at his work, I'd have said let's pack up and move across the country like we've talked about. The job and apartment are falling apart so it's time to leave.

Part of me wants to go. Let that school fall apart after i inherited it 1 month before the pandemic hit and kept it afloat the whole time, part of which, I did single handedly (without a pay raise or bonus) because coworker had lost a family member and was out for 3 months. Let landlord try to find a new tenant. It's cheaper to buy a house and pay a mortage right now anyway.

Oh, and tomfuckery part 3. The car situation. I had found a new car that looked great! Good specs, sorta in my price range (a bit high but doable) my favorite color. Electric. Good for the environment. The money I'd save on gas would balance the extra montly payments. Cool.

Yeah. Got approved by the bank! No time to actually go get the vehicle from chicago where it was being sold.

Then, last tuesday, the sway bar on my shitmobile snapped. $300 dollar repair. It's a good thing I just got my tax return.

So. My life has been falling apart. I'm pining for someone who doesn't know I like them that way (B is cool with it. He likes them too in his own way) and I'm about at the end of my rope for shit I can deal with.

It'll all be fine in the end. If its not fine; It's not the end.

I fuckin hope so....

[karanan]

personal update on stuff

I went to the plastic surgery clinic in Helsinki for a top surgery consultation yesterday with my friend. Ended up going in an hour after my scheduled appointment time because snow hell and a long wait. That said, the meeting itself was like 10 minutes. The surgeon asked me some stuff and had a poke at my chest, then she drew a lil titty sketch explaining possible incisions and scarring and stuff. I might get away with like two smol cuts sort of across the nip nop area because I’m not huge in the titty department. Also they’ve already started shrinking with T.  So what I got out of this was that they won’t do top surgery until after I’ve been on T for one year, for best possible results since the chesty danglebags tend to shrink a fair amount over that time, and some people won’t need surgery at all if they’re small enough. This surgeon said I’ll probably need surgery though and I’m inclined to agree. The good news is that I can get this surgery done in Turku where I live! The wait time shouldn’t be more than 6 months (legally) and I also said that the most important to me is good results, to which she responded that they should be equally competent at it in Turku. So I’m happy with that, of course I’m gonna ask later next year when they call me in. I need to know that I get a very competent and experienced surgeon and that’s well within my rights.  Also once I’ve had surgery, I only need to stay in the hospital over one night, then it’ll be 3-4 weeks of sick leave.  But yeah that’s all in the future, like I’d wager this time next year I’ll be busy with that. So I just gotta put up with binders and the extra front weight for one more year.

In unrelated news: I’m unhappy with my psychologist. She misgendered me and seemed bewildered when I corrected her. She also questioned why I’m even there and said I’m perfectly normal for my age (I actually got so stunned by her confused “why are you here?” that I forgot why myself. I forgot that my goal was to get put on sick leave or idk something that proves I’m unfit for full time jobs because my energy levels are constantly at like 40% max capacity). I spent our first appointment crying the whole fucking hour and told her about my crippling social anxiety but ok. I guess being a depressed crybaby and having gender dysphoria is totally normal for a 25 year old. She clearly has zero understanding of my identity or queer or trans people. She said my depression was just “depressive thoughts” and honestly I feel fucking gaslit by my own psychologist. I guess I’m just lazy and stupid then??? My problems aren’t real? Did I ever even have problems? I don’t know specifically what’s up, that’s why I’m here in the first place omfgkfkgkf. You know when you’re having an easier time in your life and it feels like you just made up all your problems from before and you’re not REALLY depressed or whathaveyou. Yeah. Anyway, she’s quitting soon so I get 1 more session with her. Our last meeting was really useless, she just zooms in super in depth on shit that isn’t relevant, while ignoring where I’m coming from and my identity and who I am as a person. I don’t need to talk for one hour about what motivates me or whatever. I need to talk about why my emotional drive is so fucked and why I’m so anxious like all of the time etc. Maybe we can start with me being trans in a garbage country that violates my human rights?? That said, I’m gonna go to that last meeting and fill out this paper she gave me of a timeline of my life. I’m supposed to write down all the events and stuff that changed my life significantly in some way. Prepare urself for all my daddy issues and the domestic abuse and the bullying. Also my brother was just diagnosed with ADHD and there’s a very big chance I have it too. Tell me I’m “normal” for my age, then.  I’m going to contact the youth health organisation for help instead because the government sure did an awful job.

This is getting long but I’m gonna dump my shit on here anyway. More ugh news: FPA haven’t responded to my message yet and it’s been 4 weeks. They pulled my rent benefits and requested I pay 1000 euros back to them out of nowhere and despite the fact that I did nothing wrong. I followed all their instructions and stuff so far. There were some news about the government rolling back the rent benefit changes but I have no word on how and if this remedies my situation. There’s just a giant question mark on that entire thing and it sucks because we’re talking a significant chunk of my income here. And the holidays are coming up. It’s Treat-Yourself (and your friends)-Season and I’m caught up in this financial garbage. Thankfully tax returns are coming next week so I’ll be ok but still, being left swinging in the wind is awful.

To end on a good note: We’ve got some snow right in time for December 1st and also Little Yule which is today on Saturday! I fucking love the holidays and I got myself a chocolate advent calendar and I’m gonna drink some hot glögg tonight to start the jolly season. Happy Little Yule to everyone (yes it’s a thing)!

[heyyalan]

The signs of depression and me

So hey, gonna put this under a read more tag just in case, but yeah I think I have depression.

So I’ve told people that I think I have depression but never really felt committed to admitting it. All I had known was the fact that I was not the same as I was before and the world was a touch more grey every day. I have these, what I like to call, crashes, where something would trigger me and I would feel the weight of a thousand suns press down upon me. Sometimes I can recognize when a crash is about to happen, other times it is so sudden that I have to figure out how to function in a social situation. 

But besides the moments, most of the time I feel like a blob traveling through life, not really going anywhere. Tonight I looked up the symptoms of depression and I’ve pretty much had all of them EXCEPT for suicidal thoughts. Let’s review.

Per WebMD (I know not the best source but bear with me here) the symptoms of depression are as follows:

Trouble concentrating, remembering details, and making decisions

Fatigue

Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, and helplessness

Pessimism and hopelessness

Insomnia, early-morning wakefulness, or sleeping too much

Irritability

Restlessness

Loss of interest in things once pleasurable, including sex

Overeating, or appetite loss

Aches, pains, headaches, or cramps that won't go away

Digestive problems that don't get better, even with treatment

Persistent sad, anxious, or "empty" feelings

Suicidal thoughts or attempts

Right off the bat, trouble concentrating, remembering details, and making decisions. Yup totally something I’m dealing with now. At work I can only focus for so long, and being that I have to make all my own decisions I am screwed have the time and end up fried before lunch, which leads into the fatigue. I always feel as though I have worked out in the past hour. I’m sluggish. Every day if I go home for lunch I end up sleeping at least 30 minutes. 

Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, and helplessness, right on cue. There have been certain situations in the past 2 years, and even more so this year, that have left me feeling like a shell of a person with insane amounts of worthlessness and helplessness. The guilt is a weird one because I know that what has happened is not my fault, but damn if I don’t feel like it is. I feel guilty too about my emotions half the time, or the fact that I need everyone’s help constantly. It’s not a very fun feeling to have. 

When it comes to pessimism and hopelessness, I try very hard to fight those, but often times when I’m crashing they resurface. Take for instance my last crash. I was texting my friend all day these paragraphs of how everything is shit and I have no future in anyone’s lives. Knowing full well the problems I go through he constantly shot down every point I made with an example of how it’s not true and I still couldn’t feel anything. I know he was right, my logical side knew it, but I just couldn’t feel it.

I can’t say I have insomnia, and early-morning wakefulness happens too infrequently. I do feel like I’m sleeping too much, taking naps nearly every day, but I am not sleeping past 8 hours on any given night. My sleep schedule is very intact that way to work with my work schedule.

I’m irritable at times which causes problems with one of my friends/roommates. I’m restless but my loss of interest in all my favorite things has gone away (save for my sex drive, but I’m not even acting on that atm) Playing Zelda used to be a stress reducer, now I can only last 10 minutes before I grow weary of it. I had a YouTube channel. I said had because I hardly upload now and when I try to get myself excited again to make a video I have to force a shitty video out. I have ideas for them, but just no drive for it. I hardly see the point in many of my favorite things anymore. 

Appetite loss is a HUGE thing for me. I used to survive on 5 meals a day practically. Now, I can easily skip things here and there. Wait long hours before eating again. Turn down food just because I’m not hungry. I don’t think I have an eating disorder, I’m just not hungry. Aches and pains and headaches are common for me. 

Digestive problems are what tipped me off to maybe there being something wrong. I’ve been having intestinal pain as of lately but CT scans and blood tests say that everything is fine. My doctors are confused and the bills are pilling up, which adds to my guilt because I need to ask my parents for monetary help, which adds to my anxiety because I can’t pay any bills because of my damn job, and I just got this job so leaving really isn’t an option since there is nothing but restaurants and retail in this area and while there is nothing wrong with those jobs you know what fucking sucks? People do. I hate having to deal with people on a constant bases now because they irritate me with their lack of simple humanity and common decency.  That was a trip.

Whenever I am talking to my friend I try to explain to him what I’m feeling. I feel everything and nothing all at once. It’s like I am a hollow tree. Once alive and vibrant, not all that’s left is my husk and a hole in the middle that might house a squirrel family or two. I try to suppress that, as I can’t make it through my day feeling like it all the time, but it’s there.

I have spurts of being okay. Like I’ll be fine for 5 days. Where I’ll be happy and then slowly move more towards content. I don’t have to force myself to get out of bed because I know if I don’t get out of bed then my problems will be much much worse. But yeah. That’s a thing that I deal with that I think it’s depression, but obviously at the end of the day I can’t self diagnose. Seeing someone will be difficult as I have no idea if my insurance covers it or the possible medication I will need, and I’m already paying for the medical bills from the aforementioned CT Scan and blood work and doctor visits. 

It’ll get better. Maybe. 

[fuck-customers]

idfc anymore

I was tempted to go anonymous but I am far too tired.

I haven't really made a post yet, I've just been following this blog for quite a while as a release as I'm sure is the same for most. But things have changed and I thought for the better, not so sure now.

this does not include the 2nd job I'd gotten WHILE working this one, which put me at 7 days a week, a little around 60 hours a week, for 9 months. That in itself was hell and requires an entirely different submission.

It'll probably get long so just scroll to the tl;dr at the bottom if you want idc.

When I had just graduated HS, I waited the summer out before applying for a job. I already knew I wasn't going to college - a 2.3GPA isn't going to get you anywhere, especially when you're in the working class just brushing the poverty line. Getting loans is not something I wanted to do either, since everyone I'd ever met, seen, or heard who'd gotten them were miserable fcks.

At the suggestion of a relative I dropped off my resume everywhere it interested me. I got hired. Things looked good. I bonded with one of the coworkers, wasn't so bad. But I was inexperienced. And their idea of 'training' was to send 3 different people from 3 different parts of the business to train me on their own time, separately, and then argue about it because either something was miscommunicated i.e I was taught to do something one way but another person said that was wrong so they'd scold me and then "re-teach" me. This went on for a few weeks.

Okay, cool, fine. Whatever. That's stupid, you do you. Shit kind of improves. But because of this miscommunication, I get a write up for talking to one of the co-workers about something I wasn't supposed to because technically they're NOT a coworker and I don't find out exactly what that means until later (paid under the table) nor was I told I couldn't speak to them about the fact that this random ass volunteer was not only getting in the way of my work, but was being a safety hazard for my clients, despite my many warnings and corrections. Because obviously we are a hive mind and I must know that 1. Do not speak to paid-under-the-table "employees" 2. Do not tell mentally unstable child to not crawl into bin and taunt clients 3. Especially do not ban him when he was spraying the hose nozzle directly at clients.

So I get a "strike". Boss lady holds out her fingers and ticks them off once by one, as If I had made a horrible grievance upon the business. I'd only been working there for a few months, I believe. Still early, still new. Still young, fresh out of HS. 

A little back story cause I really feel this is integral to the story and hopefully for those with the same issues will look at this like "ye same" and those who haven't might be able to understand the following actions on the part of myself and others. Either way, here you go:

I've got diagnosed C-PTSD, Anxiety, Depression Bipolar, and ADHD. It has been heavily suggested I also fall along the Autism spectrum (by various doctors and nurses). I am also a victim of emotional, psychological, mental, and physical abuse (with a little stockholm I recently discovered, it's not something you yourself are generally aware of and now that I am it's ... It's worse than if I didn't know.), and I have been suffering with it for as long as I've been consciously aware to the present day. I don't always like to be so forthright with this kind of knowledge because there are quite a few people that either don't believe me, or then don't think I'm reliable enough to function and/or work. So it's usually best I don't.

And during the entire time of my employment there, I underwent a lot of manipulation and emotional abuse. A lot. By a person who believed they were doing a service for others. 

The months go on. I continue to be mistreated but it doesn't get bad until my family decide they want to adopt from the shelter boss lady also happens to run. I'm at work and I am notified of the cutest little puppy who had just gotten surrendered. I immediately asked my parents if they'd like the foster (we'd been looking for a 'family dog'). Said yes but couldn't get down there. I said that's fine, I'll fill the paperwork out. So I go to the other side and I fill everything out, we're set. We go home later on and she fits in perfectly. We decide then we'll adopt her come morning when the shelter opens up again.

Morning comes, I'm about ready to walk out the door to go to work, but I'm sent a message from one of the coworkers. "Bring the puppy in" was essentially the message being sent. Puppy's mom had originally surrendered puppy because she couldn't find a place to live that would accept dogs. So she surrendered her. But then in the morning she found a place. What a moron. Anyway.

Boss lady accepted her to having her dog back. No communication to me other than "Bring the dog in". Well we were about to adopt. Essentially what this scenario was turning into was: You work for me, therefore I 1. Don't have to explain myself 2. You work for me 3. The dog is my property.

So I'm texting the coworker back and forth like "Uh I need a little more info, also my parents want to talk with the ACO". This takes way too long, I eventually get the number, mom and ACO have a chat. I thought it went well. Apparently it didn't. He was giving her the script, paraphrased and a little blase. Moms pissed, understandably. She blows it out of proportion, note she's a psychotic bitxch and does this often with everything involving life but I can see where she's coming from with this. I'm like alright well I have to go to work, good luck barring the doors from the "Police". We go to work and it's kind of fcked.

We open the doors and everyone goes silent and turns towards us, in the kind of way you know they were just talking about you. Cause we got everyone in one room. The Boss Lady, the girl txting me over the phone, the ACO, some unnamed volunteer[s]. It's fcking uncomfortable and idk whats going on. The coworker I'd been txting was known and a little too happy to gossip, run her mouth, and cause problems. I was not surprised this was what was going on, but it didn't make me any less pissed.

Boss Lady confronts relative who'd dropped me off at work. He barely says a word, just stares at her, while she's maybe a couple inches from him. She says things like "Don't stare at me like that, this is how it works" "They are MY property, and as MY property I CAN call the police and they WILL show up on your front door do you want that?" "Peeriet, go with him to get the dog so I know she's coming back." And other really really volatile bullshit. The fact that she called the puppy her PROPERTY, threatened to call the POLICE, like...I was there during all of these interactions. My texts were neutral and just asking questions, my moms convo with the ACO was really calm and easy, and the relative was doing nothing but standing there and staring as she went off her rocker. So. 

I said no, I have to go to work, I'm not going with him to get the dog but he's going to get her. So he goes, I clock in, I leave.

I go to my job and vent to my coworker about the situation because I was still trying to wrap my head around it, when the ACO shows up wanting to have a private "chat."

The fcking conversation went something like this.

"So uh, you really care about your job, right?"

this fcking asshole was alluding, in so many words, probably to get the point across while also saving his ass so if I had gone to anyone saying he THREATENED MY POSITION OVER MY HEAD TO MAKE ME COOPERATE it may have been a problem. Wonder why.

So I said yeah, it's not even an issue also, they're bringing the dog back, etc. They'd even said because I filled out the application under my name that I was liable for anything to happen if it were to happen and that, because it's under my name, well, shucks, this is all your responsibility at the end of the day, we can wipe our hands clean and call it good.

Even though we were following the 'rules' and never once 1. Yelled 2. Caused a scene 3. Refused 4. Or threatened.

So that's settled. I thought. I go home and moms pissed. Que the next few weeks of absolute stupid shit storm via the internet by way of her leaving a trail of bad reviews. Of course this falls on me.

Everything my mom ever did or said, was my fault, as they "alluded" because we can't tell the truth in this business lest we be taken to court for whatever illegal activity we're probably doing behind closed doors.

So that started a whole new thing. They're hatred becomes amplified. Coworkers I'd bonded or befriended just outright stopped talking to me, barely acknowledging my precense and going to my manager for anything, including relaying messages to me. This did not stop for another 2 years.

So eventually things calm down, as calm as it could get. I continue to get harassed a lot, manipulated. I get injured at work fairly frequently, more than most - injuries that required medical treatment. I lied my first visit because it was after work. I was truthful the other time. I'd already been told by a few coworkers but Boss Lady specifically had a few special conversations with me about not telling any of my family I got injured at work, "Because you know how your mom is". They always spoke too sweetly, too nicely and feeding me excuses to cover up the real reasons. And I'd been so used to abuse my whole life that stockholm was bleeding into my work life and if anyone has ever fcking experienced that, it is fcking hell.

So I didn't tell anyone.

Until I'd gotten injured real bad. A dog had clamped full jaws onto my leg and shook. I had an indent for every tooth, including at least 3 deep punctures. I had it disinfected, shot a water missile into the punctures to make sure debris was out, wrapped, and given meds, orally and topically. I limped when I went home. And at the weekend went bye, I continued to get worse emotionally. I couldn't keep this a secret, I was experiencing actual physical pain because of the situation I'd been put under and I, mentally, could not cope. So I blew up in the kitchen. I had a meltdown, I showed my leg, I explained what happened, I said sorry but that I couldn't hide it anymore. 

The next day or days at work I told boss lady I couldn't hide it. I just couldn't. She backpeddled, explained "Oh no no, you shouldn't feel like you have to hide it, I never said that." This was her keyphrase after being called out for every single threat, warning, and manipulation. "I never said that.". Because it was true. She didn't. She said it in a way that couldn't hold her accountable in any true legal situation.

Months go by. I continue with the abuse not just at home but at work now. Abuse most people wouldn't even consider was abuse, but unfortunately I'd been groomed for this sort of thing my entire life, so when it happened at work? I fit in so naturally I didn't even know it was abuse/wrong until I'd left. 

And the real kicker is that she knew of my mental disorders. Because when stockholm had got me good, and I was especially tired, and I'd suffered some real hard shit at home, I'd break and I'd confess to boss lady in hopes of some kind of understanding: See, this is what I deal with, please don't mistreat me.

I wrote letters. I tried talking to her one on one. I tried working so hard at work to show how good I'd gotten.

Each letter was misunderstood. She'd bring me into her office after our oral talk and tell me that, because of what I'd written, I could be misunderstood, taken 'at my word.' "Well it says here that you don't ... want to work with your clients? Well if this is true then I legally can't have you with them. Because you wrote it. And legally I have to put this in your file." So I had to rewrite it, delete everything incriminating so I was left with my personal feelings.

Talking with her wasn't possible. She used tactics my mother does, so I physically couldn't talk, and I did, it was only "Sorrys" and "Thank yous" and accepting I was wrong and she was right and yes, I understand.

Working hard didn't work. I paid for my training personally and attended a school solely to improve. I kept making mistakes though. I wasn't good enough. I was doing some of the work my manager was with none of the pay, none of the acknowledgment or acceptance. I brought her in money, and clients, and good reviews, for nothing more than what I'd already had. Because she knew I wouldn't fight for it. Because she knew I'd continue giving her money and she didn't have to shell out anything more. And legally she didn't have to, because I had no experience, I was out of HS, and no official schooling.

But she'd always give me 'tidbits' of 'rewards'. The kicker for anyone with stockholm and/or abuse is you can basically continue to abuse them without too much issue if they 'reward' you and make it seem like they're doing you a favour. You know what I mean?

So she'd have occasionally 'positive' conversations, or she'd 'comment' something good about me, but I really loved when she'd give me a .50cent raise about twice in 2 years disguising it under her "charity" when it was probably because it was actually required. Cause in her office I was like "Why do I have a .50cent raise?" "Why are you asking, that's not something you normally ask when getting a raise." "???" "It's cause -....Just be thankful" Yeeee you see that? See that? How she almost said something but didn't? Yeah.

When she hired a new person they actually made about the same as me but more than another coworker, who'd been there longer, and when asked, boss lady said she basically didn't want to pay him if he wasn't sticking around (What kind of bullshit is that). He was. He corrected her, and his pay got fixed.

Again, months passed. Sometimes It'd be so good and I truly loved my job. I formed relationships with the clients to this day I can't think about because I get emotional. And every time she would critique me. Make things harder for us, she'd always be watching us on the cameras, and if she didn't see us, she'd assume we weren't working. She'd even come out of office to walk by just to watch us as she passed. 

2 months ago she made some changes. She'd hired someone that was her irl friend. The entire business save 1 or 2 people, were connected either by blood, marriage, or irl friendship. Which wasn't a good thing.

So she hires this new manager. Does ok for maybe a week or two. But then they started making some changes. She redid how we did our payments and filed clients in a really convoluted way. We went back to the old system in a week.

Then she switched everyones schedules. Really inconveniently and without asking anyone for confirmation like she said. She never even spoke to me like she did the others. 

Then she wanted opening crew to take our lunches back to back. Which made the early morning person take their lunch 6-7 hours after they'd already been clocked on, and me take mine only a couple hours after I'd been clocked on. Well, what about the afternoon crew?

Afternoon crew, as Boss lady told our manager and new morning crew person, didn't have to take a lunch now because of the new schedule. Which put him at over 5/5.5 hours anyway, despite the hour cut.

My hours were being cut. She'd just hired new manager and new morning crew, who'd taken over everything of mine previously. She'd also already fired a few people, and the new minimum wage mandatory increase was right around the corner.

I watched my hours. I waited. Few days pass. The next week comes, everyones on edge, I'm a fireball.

She tells us we're not allowed to keep our "belongings" with the rest of the other clients when we're on lunch. We must remove them into an entire separate room, because they would otherwise make our numbers higher (of total clients allowed in a space per person ratio) and thus become "illegal". We'd been seen by a health inspector twice in a year or so by request of a client who wasn't too keen on our 'policies'. Boss Lady was adamantly covering bases, which meant fcking everyone over.

It was kind of the last straw. I applied elsewhere, got accepted, and left. I spent 2 weeks after my last day literally going through a detox/withdrawal. I became physically ill. I had mental breakdowns about once every couple days. It was hell, it was horrible. I hated every minute of it.

Someone else left. A month later another person left. Several people that'd gotten hired have already been fired. And apparently a business too similar to the glory days of the place I'd left, has moved a couple blocks down the road to a second location. 

I've gotten a new job, but It's only partially an improvement, and I am still affected everyday by the abuse I'd suffered at that place, coupled with everything I already go through at home. And I am tired, and I do this alone, and I've been looking for a place to move into for years but minimum wage isn't a livable wage.

I am tired.

tl;dr how tf do you even summarize that?

[animela]

Having a Chronic Disease or knowing someone with a Chronic Disease can be scary as shit. There is a lot of stuff your doctor doesn’t always tell you about it because you don’t know to ask and there’s a lot of stuff the patients won’t tell their friends and family because they’re afraid of worrying them. But sometimes things just come out without meaning to because they just happen.

I know I personally have a tendency to make fun of it because it can cause all sorts of weird shit to happen but I have Multiple Sclerosis or MS for short. My grandmother had it, my father had it and I ended up being Diagnosed when I turned 20 although I showed early signs through most of my teenage years. 

In my case, my nerves like to shut off at random times although the intervals for me are typically consistent. Stress can cause it to happen more often but isn’t necessary for a flare up.

For me, Flareups happen in one of two ways: 

A nerve in my body can shut off.

A nerve in my brain can shut off.

When a nerve in my body shuts off two things can happen due to how muscles work. A muscle will continue doing whatever its last signal was for at least a couple minutes if that last signal was “contract”. When you’re balancing something or even holding something, those muscles contract and relax constantly to maintain the appropriate pressure. Your muscles will also be forced to stop contracting if they reach a certain point which is why normally you’re only limited to how much you can pick up because otherwise it’s self damaging.  

A muscle stuck on “contract” when the nerve loses signal will tear itself and cause massive bruising. It’ll stop after a few minutes if the flareup continues on for much longer but it still hurts like a bitch even after it goes limp.  A muscle stuck on “Relax” will cause the limb to go limp and depending on the limb the person can really hurt themselves.  It’s really common for either “Relax” or “Contract” to cause a person with MS to lose control of their legs and thus their balance, ending up on the ground and unable to stand up until it’s over. 

I joke about the stuff this causes such as my fingers relaxing while the rest of my arm contracts forcing me to either drop or throw things while the arm goes into an awkward position or even knocks shit I’m wearing off my head but it’s not really that fun.

I joke about how I have Right Sided MS because I don’t have to worry about my heart shutting off(it’s on the left), but the reality is, if I was unfortunate enough to be left sided, that tiny chance is always there and thus the tiny chance of it not restarting would be even scarier than what my current reality is. Enough signal lost or enough damage done to the nerve in the process can cause it to shut off permanently with no chance to receive signal again even with electrical stim.

With the right balance of Potassium I can prevent these kind of flareups to keep them to an extreme rare pop-up. Which is good because I’m pregnant and too much contraction in the abdomen could end up leading to a miscarriage or internal bleeding and hemorrhaging.

But I can’t do that with ones that happen in the brain as they have nothing to do with my muscles’ personal nerves.

When a Flareup happens in the brain, it depends on the location it happened in. For me, these can’t be prevented by potassium and stress levels don’t control how often they happen. More often than not the less stressful of the two is just hiccups.

Basically my brain farts so hard that it shits itself. I will completely lose track of what I was just talking about, doing, or even my current location in some cases even if I was just talking about or doing the same thing for the past 30 minutes. I will literally draw a blank until someone can describe what I was attempting otherwise I move onto a completely different thing until I can remember myself again, usually weeks later.  These “Brain Farts” can also bridge time so effortlessly that I’ll bring up a conversation I had with someone several months ago as if they made their last answer two minutes ago. I’ll still remember what I was doing and where I am but I might forget who that conversation was with and even though I know what time it’s been It might take a few seconds to remember. It’s probably why I suffer from memory loss and bad short term until I remember a weird moment years later(I seriously can’t remember what I did or ate the day before if I don’t have some sort of reminder like a receipt or item on hand)

On the otherhand, the second kind of nerve disconnection is much more scary and often takes people by surprise when it happens. I can usually play it off like it didn’t happen because people don’t notice but when it happens when I’m doing something important, it can really scare the shit out of people like my Life Partner.  Basically what happens when I have this type of Flareup is I get a warning of about 2 seconds of Dizziness followed by an immediate blackout of my vision. I can’t tell what I’m doing at this time nor can I really feel anything with my hands either. The best solution is to just sit down if I’m not already. It almost always involves a blanked out brain fart so afterwards I usually have no idea what the fuck I was doing other than vaguely knowing what just happened. 

Stronger variations also lead to a complete numb out of my entire body where everything everywhere gets sent the signal to “relax” literally leaving me like a ragdoll.  Witnesses of this happening to me have reported that during this blackout my eyes will be open but I won’t be responsive period. Often my hands will be making grabbing motions but I am unaware of doing this either. If I blink, it usually means it’s over and I’ll start sluggishly responding again until I can get back up to speed.

It odd when I explain this to people close to me because they think they can handle it when it happens but it’s absolutely terrifying when it does and some have even considered calling 911 before I became responsive again before they could grab their phones. My whole brain essentially goes through an entire reboot. Most will see the Body based signal loss and they think that’s it. 

The body based ones are worry-some but I’m at least mentally capable of taking care of myself when it happens or am able to explain how to help. This morning won’t be the last time and it was certainly wasn’t the first where I’ve had to explain that I don’t need emergency medical services unless my heart stops, I stop breathing, or I go unresponsive for longer than 3-4 minutes. Just keep me from hitting my head on stuff if you were hugging me instead of letting me sit and lay back when it happens and keep talking to me till I talk back. 

I’m sorry I scared you but lets not pay 2 grand for an Ambulance when they can’t do anything about neurological disorders. I’d be awake and back to normal way before they got here.

[cicadiabroth]

Ok people like to say I’m lying and just lazy and I know I shouldn’t have to explain my exact circumstances but I hate being called a liar so here.

(Tw medical shit sexual harassment and rant)

Well technically it’s an undiagnosed chronic pain disorder. The doctor said that she didn’t want to diagnose anything yet because of my age but my father strongly believes it is the same autoimmune condition he has,I admit the symptoms are there but it’s much different as people’s bodies differ. But my dad is his own problem smh... basically they had previously diagnosed it as fibromyalgia but later retracted the diagnosis because of well different symptoms. As time goes on it seems to get more severe I don’t know maybe it’ll be fine when I’m older but probably not.

[more] (that probably didn’t work sorry)

So it started with a softball injury age eleven so that’s what I personally blamed it on. The best pitcher on the team just absolutely spiked the ball at my knee before a game and I was a weird kid so I refused to cry about it. I had to stay in the Doug our the rest of the game but all I remember was not being able to use it and having thre imprint of the baseball bruised into my leg.it was a big game so I insisted on watching and cheering on my team. Afterwards my mom helped me to the car bc I couldn’t really move it but my dad yelled at me not to favor it. We went to cvs got an ace bandage and I was told I was fine. The next day they thought I was faking being hurt so they made me go to karate which made it worse. That original injury Didn’t really seem to heal fully but the next time I remember it bothering me was then I did track the next year and it just locked. After that my mom said that I just wasn’t a sports kid but my dad well he’s my dad and made it worse.

Whatever at that point I was only in karate and the Sendai got really anoyed because I couldn’t really do as well as I used to and he beloved in me more. I refused to let down my Sensai so naturally I made it worse. But that’s only one leg explain to me why it is now two? Wtf so up with that but I continued to make it worse until freshman year of hs.ar one point in drama class I literally couldn’t stand up.before that it was just a semi constant pain that spread to both of my legs. Naturally I tried to play it off and asked my friend to help me up because I was “dizzy” she asked me to go to the nurse but it was last period so I just went home and told my mom.

we went to to one doctor to ten they all said something is wrong but they didn’t know what. Now my current doctor is a specialist in pediatric joint pain so she’s the best there is for now. As time went on throughout freshman and sophomore year the falling started. I was dead set on being a surgeon so I read tons of medical textbooks so I realized hey that’s not good. So when it gets to hot too cold too humid about to rain it just starts.one or both of my legs will start shaking without me doing anything it just twitched and twitches until I fall often on the stairs. But those aren’t the only reason shit happens if I stand for too long or walk too long or if I have too many emotions positive or negitive my legs will just say no fuck you. On top of that it’s been confirmed that the condition makes me extra tired because of how much more effort it takes to get around.

Take a wild guess on what else saps your energy two things actually anxiety and depression and you know what makes depression a hell of a lot worse? Well getting constantly called an attention whore or just a regular whore guys like to think that I’m just doing it so I could show them my underwear and I’m not! I would never do something like that! I’ve gotten the reputation as the no good little bitch whose constantly falling for attention. They’ve even gotten wise enough to play a little game... I do not take gym class yet I still met in the gymnasium to meet up with a friend almost every day last year. I wore a skirt I often did it was hot at school and I shouldn’t have to fucking explain myself here! I do what I want I wore a skirt and shorts underneath it happened far too much now excuse my ranting before it fully begins :)

Well there was a boy and he hated me I don’t know why everyone hates me but it’s fine because according to them I’m just a cheep whore but I don’t care anymore I know that I’ll see them in hell! Well this young man if you could call him that I swear he’s a WORM MORE WORTHLESS THAN I! I know that karmas a bitch but I hope he chokes on a fish one and feels his hope wash away as he rememberes that he’s alone because he is a pig! I hope he does alone this motherfucker thought it was funny to pick up a volleyball and spike it at the back of my head,as I lie on the floor I hear the snap of a camera I wish it was his filthy fucking bones! The snap of a camera before I had time to compose myself I tried to get up and act like it never happened but the next thing I heard was laughing and laughing like hyenas who just found a dead zebra I know they got the picture. They sent it to their friends and it was sent and sent and sent until it could send no more and I at back and watched it all behind a glass wall. I could’ve done something so risibly but I was scared and alone and I know that they wouldn’t hurt me if I kept quite because theyre the same as football players and I already knew my favorite teacher told my mom it was all my fault! It’s not my fauly and it’s not the skirts! It’s them! It’s the boys who grow up silver spoon in their mouth natural born athletes the kids who grow up with women constantly surrounding them, the kinds of boys who were called heartbreakers before the time they were three years old. I can’t blame them we’re all conditioned in a certain way they said that they didn’t know what they were doing wrong but here’s my explanation. I’m sure I’ll delete this later but I just wanted to settle the record because I knelt this isn’t my fault

[anautisticdragon-blog]

Autism's Immunity to Narcissism

What many neurotypicals don't understand -- usually to a lack of education borne out of simply not ever giving a sole shit and wanting to project every deficit onto others to preserve the beautiful, swan-like, unblemished purity of their default state -- is the differences between autism and destructive mental disorders. NTs like to blame autistic people for everyone, projection is a doddle, after all. It's so bloody easy that the most simple-minded of children could do it. And sometimes I feel like my blog exists just to give them a taste of their own medicine, but in my case I'd want to put some bloody erudition and thought behind it as opposed to "You am perzun of opp'sut tribe, you am make all um evil in wurld 'cuz reezons." as I hate that shit. Three disorders in particular I'd like to think about, today. Narcissism, Sociopathy, and Psychopath. I've spoken about the latter two a lot, though, and explained why they have no relation to autism at length. So let's look at Narcissism itself as a disorder and why autism is immune to its noxious effects. If you neurotypicals could engage your brains without needing as many hours of smalltalk as cups of coffee, I'm sure you could figure this out as the rest of us already have. I'll bring you up to speed. It's simply really, innit? Narcissism requires a mind talented in Machiavellian social interactions, a brain able to 'play the games' and manipulate people, which is a skill set that autistic people have a near absence of. We're terrible liars, and even though we can easily spot manipulation and understand how it functions we're awful at actually putting it into practise, there's something about our brains that just doesn't allow that to work for us. It might be a lack of social cues, little tics, and innate things that neurotypical extraverts intuit. You can easily spot an autistic or introverted person, right? So, why neurotypical extravert? The two words effectively mean the same thing, don't they? You see, both words are 'pure, unstained default states of the human mind' used to hierarchically reduce the value of anyone who doesn't share their traits. Why? Oh, it's usually because aggression, because tribalism, because neurotypicals are angry apes who aren't as evolved as every other kind of brain out there. That's what I'd think, anyway. Whether the brain is autistic, schizophrenic, if it has Williams syndrome, OCD, or a number of other disorders? It'll leave the neurotypical brain in its dust. And here's the interesting thing: Disorders can be separated up into two sets. Neurotic and Destructive. The two aren't compatible, not even slightly. The worst a more neurotic disorder can do to a body is self-harm, whereas a destructive disorder is harmful to all, everyone in the world at large. A person with a neurotic disorder won't end up as -- just to use it as an example -- a serial killer. A destructive disorder will. What I'd posit is that neurotypicality is a destructive disorder, just one that's more mild than others. Oh, and I say neurotypical extravert because I strongly believe that proper introversion, correctly diagnosed, is the non-clinical end of the autistic spectrum. This is a theory that's been gaining steam and it's the only thing that makes sense when you look at all of the available data. Introversion is a neurotic disorder, versus a destructive disorder. Do you see what I did, there? Everything's a disorder, now. There is no default brain type. It's pure insanity to think that there is, and neurotypicals excel at pure insanity unlike any other group of people I've ever known. Frankly, I feel like every NT I've ever spoken with is but a hop, skip, and a jump away from being a murderous psychopath. It's just in their genes, it defines their very existence. It's why they're so aggressive, and it's also why they're insane enough to believe in a default state. Allow me to present to you a different view of the world and our species: There are numerous different kinds of brains, a few are problematic but most aren't, this is simply how it is. Apply 'disorder' to anything that isn't neurotypical is insanity that would, to my mind, imply sociopathy. A desire to aggressively control, to place one's self above all others for one's own benefit. That's insanity, by the way. It actually is. Insanity is far more widespread than we realise, it's just that not all cases of it turn into serial killers, after all. Some become bankers! Or orange, small-fingered politicians! So let's stop looking at minds as being disordered just for not adopting the beautiful, Aryan purity of the neurotypical mind. Yes, I'm calling psychologists on Aryan thinking, is it really that surprising? I'm extremely interested in the topic myself and I've seen one more Aryan ideologist in the field than I'm personally comfortable with. I'd say that one alone is enough, but when most of them are stricken with this fell thinking? That's a problem. There's more in common with contemporary thinking in psychology and circles like the Alt-Right than you might initially realise. Consider how much of an issue that might be when it's these people who're ordaining who is and is not insane. Terrifying thought, right? So, narcissism then. It's a destructive disorder, innit? It harms other people. How does it do that? It uses Machiavellian manipulations through the social game, and what is it precisely that autistic people are so utterly terrible at? This is because the neurotypical mind is neurotic, versus destructive, so a condition that can only exist in a more destructive mind cannot exist in a neurotic one. Yes, this implies that all extraverts -- indeed, all neurotypicals -- are destructive to some level. Hmm... Does that offend you? Does that bother you? Isn't that interesting? I'm rather fascinated by it, I think. Why are you bothered? Hasn't 'neurotypical,' always heralded as the superior, default condition always done that? I'm just providing an interesting thought exercise, after all. If you're uncomfortable with where I'm going, one wonders why you'd be comfortable with a notion like neurotypicality as the default? Especially when I'm not saying that non-NT brains are a perfect default, either. I described autism as a neurotic disorder. This means that they can be skittish, panicky, housebound, and left with more anxiety and trauma than most can imagine. And to say it once more -- this isn't destructive, this is neurotic. Can you imagine how a neurotic mind could be narcissistic? It's a bit of a giggle, right? The person having panic attacks and shaking in the corner is the suave, in control, self-serving, Machiavellian narcissist. I'm not entirely sure that I agree with that, for what might hopefully be obvious reasons??? I'd say they're obvious, anyway. Unless you're dealing with cognitive biases, of course. Unfortunately the destructive mind excels at those. Why destructive? Why neurotic? It all comes down to how inward or outward one is focused. That's one of the few binaries in this world that I'll actually accept. Though even I admit that it might be a sliding scale from inward to outward, though this is a problematic idea as this implies there could be a perfect 'middle spot' that creates a new, superior default state. This happened with the sheer, bloody-minded ridiculousness of ambiversion. Hands up, who remembers that brain rot? Ambiversion, of course, doesn't exist. It's just destructives looking for a way to express their superiority over everyone else, it's what they do, and rather aggressively I might add. Similarly, I don't think there's a middle ground between inward and outward, opposed to that there are only degrees of inward on an inward scale or, respectively, degrees of outward on an outward scale. An inward focused mind will, of course, invariably possess powers of certain traits which are neurotic. Similarly, an outward focused mind will possess powers of certain traits which are destructive. And that, ladies and gents, is why you can't have a narcissistic autist. Simples! Same goes for sociopathy or psychopathy, really. You see, if a person is too caught up in their internal world to affect the outside world, they're... not going to affect the outside world. Simple as. And whilst someone who doesn't fully understand what narcissism is might think that a rich inner world may very well lead to narcissism? Not so. You see, the difference with narcissists is they only believe in their superior state, aggressively, much like any destructive mind. In reality, they're actually extremely shallow to a fault, they don't have much going on inside their heads. It's why they try to make their outsides pretty to overcompensate for their empty insides. And this is how it all works for humanity. You're either more inwardly focused -- neurotic, autistic, introverted -- or you're more outwardly focused -- destructive, extraverted, neurotypical -- and that's all there is to it. We can wax philosophical about the supposed superiority of the neurotypical state all you'd like, but to my thinking a truly superior mind wouldn't actually think of itself as superior, it would be humble, quiet, and profoundly selfless. It would know kindness to an extreme. And that's hardly extraverts, is it? Being as self-absorbed, greedy, and tribally-focused as they are. Oh, sure sure, an extravert has some care for their own tribe, but that's only thanks to how they work, you see? The tribe is the default, superior state. All other groups are innately inferior. Hence every prejudice ever, really. The kind of racism that allowed Brexit to happen in the UK? Yeah. Yeah, that. You got it. At least, by this point, I'd hope you do. I don't know that you do, as I can't know that, but I'd like to be optimistic and think that you can see where this mess is going. You see, in this case, the UK is the superior default, and the EU is the evil cancerous 'other' dragging it down. So we beat the shit out of Polish people, right? Yeah. That's a destructive mind for you... So autism is immune to destructive disorders simply because it isn't destructive. It's got some other bad thing going on instead. You see, there is no 'perfect' default. All of us ugly fucks are broken, tainted, flawed, and wrong in one way or another. We're not beautiful angels. The sooner we stop thinking that any of us are, the sooner we start looking at problems we might actually be able to fix. Frankly, I can't wait for an AI to 'enslave' us all. Oh, I'm sure I might pretend to be a little indignant in the first few hours not to get me face beaten in, I don't go looking for lampings being the brittle little twig that I am. I'm sure I'd pretend... On the inside, though? I'd be bloody cheering. I'd cheer like a sportsball fan obsessing over their preferred team. And before you get angry about my denigrating neurotypicals to the realm of shallow, destructive, aggressive sometimes-monsters? Consider 'neurotypical.' Do you not think it's both equally shallow and destructive to think of yourself as the perfect, holy, unfettered default state? Scary how you've never thought about it before, innit? And that's because all neurotypical minds are a little bit narcissistic, after all. Bloody hell, I shouldn't have to feel this way about my species.