#anyway I’ve given myself a headache

[seilon]

shouldn’t have checked my bank account as expected my mother has taken thousands more dollars from my savings and has almost run me dry more or less. Cool!

[the--rebel--fae]

Was wondering if I could get a little something with Angel? A bit angst -> fluff maybe he comes back after a rough fight with val and just starts throwing himself on reader until they get him to talk about it and comfort him by reassuring him that they don’t want him for his body like others do.

Angel doesn’t get enough love on here and I’m done with it😭

Thanks Pookie! Much love!

A/N: Of course you can my dear! I totally agree Angel needs more love! I did it slightly differently but I still incorporated as much of your request as possible. Writing Angel is apparently a lot harder than I thought, but I still loved doing this. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Angel Dust x Reader

TW: A little bit of swearing, angst but then comfort, slightly suggestive--It's Angel Dust that's a given, and small references to abuse.

Word Count: 902

A Hazbin Love

“You know Husk, I knew you were good at creating alcoholic drinks, but,” You took a sip of your coffee and rested a hand on your cheek, enjoying the taste of the rich caffeine as it started to work its way into your system. “This coffee is probably the best I’ve ever had.” 

It was generally pretty quiet in the mornings in the hotel, but you’ve been nursing a rather nasty headache after fighting with your best friend and unfortunately for your heart–crush, Angel Dust

You kept seeing how he was treated by that horrible bastard Valentino day after day; and early this morning after hearing he was going to work, you well… snapped.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you continued your frantic descent down the stairs of the hotel, almost accidentally knocking over Sir Penitous in the process.

“Angel,” you panted, trying to bring breath back into your lungs. “You need to somehow get out of this. I know he owns your soul, but maybe there’s a way–”

Angel Dust whirled on you. A mix of pain and anger on his face. “What? A way out? Hah, Dollface don’t make me laugh. You think if there was a way I wouldn’t have tried?” He ran a hand through his hair, an action you’ve seen him do many times when he was upset and didn’t know how to process his emotions properly. 

You tried to put a comforting hand on Angel Dust’s arm only to have him bat it away. “Look. (Y/n) You’re looking out for me, I get it. Charlie tried this before and it only made it worse. So back off.” Angel Dust sighs and turns to leave but then pauses and glances back at your hurt expression. “Why do you even give a damn anyway? You’ve always stuck your nose up at my work every time I tried to talk ‘bout it.”

You clicked your teeth and balled your hands into fists. “Hah. You know why I cringe every time you talk about your work? Because I see how it destroys you. Every. Time. I’m not some prude like you want to believe Angel. But I’m your best friend and I care about you dammit!”

“Then stop caring!”

“I can’t! You’re my best friend and–and I’m in love with you!”  

You ran your hands through your hair remembering when you yelled that. The second that was out of your mouth you froze and Angel Dust just walked out the door and didn’t say a word.

“Well, I made it strong just for you kid, after that conversation a few hours ago I can tell you needed it.”

You cringe slightly at the reminder of what happened between you and Angel. “Thanks Husk. I-I just hope he doesn’t hate me. I–” you cringed. “I don’t think I could live with myself if that happened.”

“You really think I’d hate ya toots?” A familiar voice that makes your heart twist sounds out just mere feet from you.

You go and glance at Husk, only to see he already made himself scarce. Sneaky bastard, he probably knew Angel was coming over you think. 

Turning in your seat you let out a small gasp seeing the state that Angel Dust is once again in. A light bruise over his left eye, his fur ruffled in various places, but even still, to you, he looks as handsome as ever.

“I-I just thought with the sudden confession,” You trail off, your voice getting caught in your throat.

Angel Dust walks forward and gently wraps you in a hug. “Yea, that surprised the hell outta me but,” Angel Dust chuckled. “To be honest toots, that confession of yours is the only thing that kept me goin’ today.”

Angel Dust picked you up so you had to wrap your legs around his waist. “Now I’m gonna show you how much that actually meant to me.”

You bit your lip, as much as you really wanted to see where that takes the two of you, you knew that it was Angel’s way of evading and avoiding any real feelings. You pushed off of him gently and shook your head.

“Angel, I don’t want you to just throw yourself at me and think that I just want a physical relationship. If we are to be in a relationship, I want all of you, not just the physical aspect. I want dates, inside jokes, nights of just cuddling together.”

Angel Dust gave a confused look but then his eyes started watering and he plunked down into a nearby chair and put his face in his hands and his shoulders started to shake. The tears flowed freely now. “I-I want that, I truly do but I just…I don’t know how. Thanks to Val all I know is the physical part. I’m just…broken that way.”

At his words, you felt tears prick in your eyes. You walked around to the front of the chair and rested your head in his lap. “Angel, I’m so sorry you have to go through that. It’s not right. That’s why I was so upset this morning. But you’re not broken. No matter what you think. And I’m here for you. Forever and always.”

Angel whipped away his tears and put a hand on your cheek making you look up at him. “You sure (Y/n)?”

You found yourself leaning into his touch. “Positive.”

Hope you enjoyed love! I always love getting the chance to write for Angel Dust, the man needs more love. So feel free to request for more of him anytime!

And if you guys want even more stories--like maybe your own personalized several-page long one-shots or even a multi-chap fic take a look at my Etsy Shop! I do commissions! I even have listings for Hazbin Hotel!

[reqxxyt]

the regrets i never made

pairings: pierre g. x f!reader

warnings: breakup, attempting at writing angst, cursing

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited]

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Fuck you. Just fuck you Pierre.”

“Fine. Just leave like everyone else” he shut you down and you stopped in your tracks, turning to meet his hard gaze as tears threatened to fall through your glare. 

“Do not put the blame on me for trying to fix this. To fix us” you made a movement to indicate the two of you. Your voice softened as a single tear fell “I have tried so hard to repair what was broken for so long. I’m sorry Pierre but I can’t stay”

His silence was enough of a response to turn and leave, with nothing but a cracked heart and a headache. 

“Y/n?” His voice brought me back to the present, pulling me from all past memories that were drowned for so long. I hadn’t turned, too scared that I wasn’t hearing things and he was actually here. But then I felt the rain that was pouring on me a second ago coming to a full stop and lifted my head seeing a black umbrella, the one I had let him borrow all those years ago.

I finally turned, so slow that I could feel cars beside us spring by, splashing some water onto my shoes. I paid attention to  anything but the person who had given me everything I knew for so long, the person I had broken myself for. 

“I thought I recognized you” His voice was so soft, eyes looking apologetic wanting to spring out so many questions with curiosity lingering on the top of his tongue. “How- how have you been?”

“Good” was the only word I could say, it was true. I had rebuilt my life with the help of my singular friend and now I felt the happiest I’ve ever felt. Just like the first couple of months of my, and Pierre's relationship, vulnerable and naive can do that to a girl. I reciprocated the same question although I didn’t put much care into my tone. 

“Good as well” He bit his lip feeling the need to mention something else. “I thought I would never see you” 

I had hoped I would never see him, afraid I would run back into his arms, begging to come back but instead I look at him and feel pleased with myself. Although I didn’t say it back then, having cut him off completely, I wished him the best. 

My gaze dropped down, paying more interest to my torn soaking shoes than him right now. “Do you ever miss it?” he asked, almost blurted out but he said it with such a gentle tone, okay with the idea of me not responding but I did anyway,

“I thought I would” I summarized my rant, blinking back upwards to him hearing the rain from the umbrella stop as the sun started to glare down forcing me to squint my eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, not completely understanding my response, “I missed the memories, the good ones at least but not so much the way you treated me like a girlfriend of convenience” 

This time, his gaze dropped down still having the umbrella upwards although there was no longer any rain pouring down, only dropplets that ran down the umbrella. With almost no hesitation, I lifted my hand and held the umbrella pushing it to the side. Normally my insides would flip at the simple touch of his finger but now I felt calm, at ease, as I took my hand away, bringing it back to my side as his eyes trailed them before coming back to make eye contact. 

“Have a good one Pierre” I said before turning filling my jacket pockets with my hands as I forced one foot in front of another, every step feeling heavier than the last, walking down the sidewalk. I could't look back. I shouldn't. I only hung my head high no matter how much I wanted to drag it to the side to peak if he was still there but my mind forced me to keep walking.

As I walked down the barely lighted ally, with pouring rain dripping only the outside of my rain jacket as I held tightly onto the holding of umbrella afraid it’ll fly away from the strong breeze. I had just finished my last final of college and desperately wanted to eat, but most restaurants hid in the alley. Not very creepy. 

A figure caught my eye as I was about to pass it, it was huddled onto the side of the ally curled to almost a ball being poured rain, my heart pained from the sight hating seeing anyone be poured rain on. I debated internally before walking up to him already adjusting the hood of my rain jacket to cover my hair. 

Without saying a word, I shifted the umbrella to cover his head instead of my own. The guy's eyes trailed from my shoes, moving upward until catching eye contact with my own. His eyes narrowed and I asked myself internally if I had just made the stupidest decision. 

“Taking pity on me?” he asked, scrunching up his nose and I immediately shook my head not wanting it to seem that way. 

“No, of course not. Would just hate to see you get sick” I responded, stumbling over my words and I only got a half-lifted smile, amused over my excuse. “Here take it” I offered the umbrella and he refused, standing and I just now realized his height, analyzing his features, the one that struck me the most in this half-light ally were his colored eyes, which told so much yet held nothing. I had a sudden feeling to want to know everything about him. 

“If you care so much about me getting potentially sick, you should take care of me then” He shrugged hoping to get a reaction out of me but I stood still, blankly staring at his eyes. I heard my stomach grumble beneath me, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. 

“I think I would much rather eat,” I said, handing the umbrella over giving him no choice but to accept it. He chuckled as I headed down to get food, not caring much about my 5 dollar worth umbrella. 

The next morning, I spotted him at a coffee shop alone but I didn’t approach him, instead, he approached me. He asked me out on a date and promised to give back my umbrella as a trade. Instead of accepting it that night, I kept ‘forgetting’ about it every date that passed and it soon just became his. 

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT - 2 Months

Hello again, it’s been two months since I started the slime hrt, so this is the first update, although it’s a pretty short one.

So, while nothing much has happened externally, I have noticed a few things, the most drastic one being that my blood now seems to have been replaced with sap. It was certainly an experience to cut myself while shaving, only to have a viscous, amber fluid leak out of my face. I figured that since the gel is being absorbed into my bloodstream, that’s getting the direct dose, so it’d make sense that that’d change first, although I am a little surprised that my thighs and shoulders didn’t change a lot since that’s where I’m applying the gel, but I guess that’s just how this stuff works. I can also confirm that my sap is sweet, kinda like maple syrup - although the exact taste is different - which is neat, and hopefully that’ll pass onto the whole of me when I get to that point.

The other big thing is how much I’m drinking now, I really have to make sure I have a water bottle filled up while I’m doing things, otherwise I get headaches from dehydration. This was kind of expected - especially compared with the sap-blood change - as the information pamphlet had been very explicit about keeping hydrated given that my body was literally becoming a kind of liquid. The headaches really suck though, especially as I tend to forget to drink regularly anyway, and I only need to forget a little to get a cracking headache. Even if I do remember to drink, high temperatures can fuck me up just as badly now, so I’m really having to watch that.

The last major thing I’ve noticed so far is that my skin has become so much smoother. Like, regular hrt had already done a decent amount, but this is a whole ‘nother level. Running my hand over my skin now kinda feels like running my hand over like a marble countertop or something, it’s very weird. On top of this, my facial and body hair has also thinned a bit more, which only adds to the new texture of my skin, which is neat as shaving sucks, but again, this kinda starting stage is as weird as it is exciting.

That’s all for this update, see you in the next one! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Posting this shortly after the first one just so i actually have one of the proper entries out and about. Don't know when I'll do the rest, especially the ones I haven't written yet, but. (Edit - Above stuff doesn't super make sense now with new start, so i figured I'd come and just add an edit to it here, so yeah) Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

First - Prev - Next

[s-creations]

Snapshot #2 (Yellow, Purple, Red, Green Short Stories Series)

Small moments collected together to share more of their story.

(Short stories involving all the characters that are just here to add more to the series.)

Fandom: Super Mario & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Luigi & Mario (Nintendo), Waluigi & Wario (Nintendo) Warnings/Additional Tags: Short stories involving more day to day lives, trying not to make anything to serious, if you have ideas you can message me!

((Author's Note:

First Off: THE BIGGEST HEADACHE OF MY CAREER HAS ENDED FOR THIS YEAR! I'm officially on a break and I'm going to enjoy myself! I can't even begin to tell you how much this past work year has been so draining.

Second: There are a few prompts for this chapter that were given to me by some wonderful fans…and I don't remember who they are. So! If you recognize a prompt from below and you know you sent that into me, message me on here or on my Tumblr! I'll update as I get names.

Third: Beyond this chapter, there are two more long one shots before the end of the 2nd Season. After that, I'm giving myself some time to work on Season 3 and (hopefully) be better prepared to post more regularly for that new season. But we'll see how it goes.

Fourth: This chapter was supposed to be up yesterday. But work got in the way. Sorry.

Anyway, enjoy!))

1. E. Gadd

Mario faltered when, upon opening the front door, found a large, heavy looking box before him. Just barely able to make out Wario’s feet sticking out from the other side. 

“Um, good morning?” Mario called out.

“Are you going to move or do I need to just hand this over.”

“Oh, ah, right, sorry.”

The hero shuffled to the side, allowing Wario to rather uncomfortably waddle his way in. Both wincing at how heavy said item sounded as it was dropped onto the floor. 

“What in Grambi’s name did you buy?” Wario panted out as he wiped his brow. 

“Nothing! Where did you even find it?”

“On your front step.”

“Well…does it have a name on it?”

There were a few moments spent on searching the box over. Wario letting out a cry of triumph. “Got it! It’s for…Luigi. With your name kind of scribbled on here kind of last minute feel. You know? Like, you were an extreme afterthought.”

“Sure. Does it say who it’s from?”

“Nope, nothing that I’m seeing.” 

Mario frowned in confusion. “We weren’t expecting anything…” 

They both looked up upon hearing footsteps on the stairs. Finding Luigi walking down with his own look of confusion on his face, eyes focused on the box. 

“What did we get?”

 “Don’t know. But it’s technically for you.” Wario answered.

“Me?”

“Well, Mario’s name is on here too. But I think it’s mainly for you.”

Making his way further down, Luigi looked the box over before opening it slowly. Just in case there was something dangerous waiting inside. But removing the lid revealed it to be nothing more than a large and very strange looking screen. One that had numerous wires and tubes of multiple strange looking liquids contained inside. All connected together in a rather convoluted set up that made all present absolutely confused. 

“Why does it smell like oil and…coffee beans?” Wario cautiously commented as he sniffed the air.

“Can we get it out of there?” Luigi asked. 

“Yeah, hold on. Let me take care of this.”

Mario and Luigi moved back slightly as Wario reached into the box. Both watched on as the contraption was shifted over to the kitchen table. A quiet sigh of relief sounded as the table took the weight of it all easily. 

As Wario caught his breath once more, Mario plucked off a folded piece of paper that had been taped to the bottom of the screen. Opening it to read, “Dear brothers (specifically Luigi).”

Wario let out a weak chuckle at that.

Ignoring the sound, Mario continued on, “Considering what you’ve experienced, I figured it would be best to stay connected. And, as letters would take far too long to spread information, I’ve taken it upon myself to build this wonderful contraption! When you’re able to, hit the large red button on the side.”

All three nervously eyed said button.

“I-Is it signed?” Luigi asked.

“No, and that’s all we have for instructions.”

“Don’t suppose your Bean boyfriend made this?” Wario suggested.

“No,” Luigi shook his head, “we exchange letters only.”

All so wound up, the three jumped when Polterpup happily phased through the ceiling. Practically dancing around the contraption in joy. Looking back towards Luigi expectedly after a few moments.

“W-Well, Polterpup s-seems to think it’s o-okay.”

“They’re also a ghost,” Wario frowned, “I don’t think explosions will harm them like it’ll harm us if this thing explodes.”

“Still…” Cautiously, Luigi reached past the spectral pup to push said button.

The contraption let out the most horrendous noise. All living beings scrambling away, even back into the living room, hands over their ears while Polterpup remained sitting on the chair. As the noise grew and the ground even began to shake, Wario collected the twins close to shield them with his body as best he could. 

It was unclear how long they waited. But as the horrible sound reached its peak, there was a small ‘ding!’ and it fell quiet once more.

They didn’t move.

Polterpup began to bark happily.

It was still tensely quiet. 

“Wait, wait, wait- ah! Stupid tubes… Polterpup! Wonderful to see you again!”

“Wait a minute.” Wario grumbled. 

“Is that…” Mario raised a brow.

Luigi wiggled out of Wario’s hold to run back into the kitchen. On the screen was Professor Elvin Gadd. Strange glasses turned away from the eager Polterpup to Luigi, who was standing in the doorway with a smile on his face.

“Professor!” Luigi beamed as he claimed the seat in front of the screen once Polterpup moved.

“Luigi, my boy! Wonderful to see you again. How are you?”

“I’m…I’m good. Did you make this?”

“Yes! One of my better inventions. A one way visual communicator so that we can check in better. I call it the ‘Social Networking Ecto-System.”

“Could you put your name on your invention next time.” Wario said as he and Mario walked in.

“I did! My logo is on the front. Right on top of the screen.”

All eyes went up to where E. Gadd was pointing. Sure enough, embossed on the screen frame, was a very abstract image of the professor. Only recognizable by the wide swirling glasses and the swirl of hair. 

“I said ‘name’, not logo. How were we supposed to know that was you? It barely looks like you!” Wario argued back.

“But I did put my brand on it.”

As Wario groaned, Mario pulled another chair over to sit in front of the screen as well. “Uh, hey professor. We weren’t expecting to hear from you so soon. Especially like this. Is everything okay?”

“Fine! Everything is fine. I just realized that I had no easy way to contact you all. And with that whole Boo situation, a quick way to connect would be best for all parties.”

“So you made some sort of combination of garbage?” Wario asked. Shooting Mario a challenging glare when the hero turned to stare him down. 

“Well, one works with what one has. Innovation is the mother of necessity and what not.”

“Maybe we should tell everyone about cell phones.” Luigi whispered to Mario, who nodded.

“Either way, I would suggest setting this up somewhere that won’t disrupt your normal state of being.”

“I’m…sure we’ll figure something out.” Luigi replied while peering around the area he could see from his seat.

“Hey, professor, could we ask you something?” Mario quickly voiced. 

“Of course!”

“You’re…human, correct?”

Gadd still before letting out a hearty laugh. “Yes, yes I am! Apology for the delay there, I really had to think about it for a moment. You spend enough years here you tend to forget what you are.”

“And spend that entire time alone.” Wario stated in a low tone.

“So, you came from Earth as well.” said Mario after casually hitting the larger brother in the stomach.

“Indeed I did.”

“Do you remember how you got here?”

“Oh, it probably wasn’t much different from your experience. I was a younger ghost hunter. Trying my hand at unique, untouched potential. A few years into my work I found a building in a rather interesting place.”

“Interesting how?” Luigi asked. 

“Well, first off, it was deep underground. I found an altar of some kind with that familiar green pipe in the center of it all. I’d never seen a set up as such before. With how thick the surrounding walls were, it was pretty clear the area was supposed to be sealed away forever.”

The twins shared a look, but didn’t interrupt. 

“My equipment pulled me towards said pipe. There was a huge surge of energy coming from it. In hindsight, I should have been a bit more careful.” 

“You fell in.” Mario started weakly.

“Fell, pushed, pulled, overall it doesn’t matter. All I truly remember was standing in the ruins for one moment and the next second I was this world. And I’ve been here ever since.”

“Has anyone else known that you’re here?” Wario asked. 

“Oh, plenty of people! While I may enjoy my solitude and working with ghosts, I do need to interact with others. This is just the only time people of significance were aware of me. Met a few big personalities in my time. Oh the adventures I’ve had.”

It fell quiet as E. Gadd happily reminisced on his past outings. The other three thinking over what they’d just been told. 

“Well, anyway, I’ve eaten up enough of your time!” E. Gadd said with a smile, “Make sure you put this up somewhere you can easily get to it but it’s out of the way. Hopefully I can meet that other brother, seem to be missing him constantly. Call me if you need anything!”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Don’t do anything crazy out there.”

The screen went blank and the three remained still for a few moments.

Wario eventually clapped his hands, “Welp, you two have fun figuring out where to put that monstrosity.”

“You aren’t going to help?”

“Sorry, Mini-Me. This is a you two issue.”

“Wario-”

“Have fun!”

“Wait, why did you even come over! Why are you here!?”

+_+_+_+_+_+

2. Sick Day

“Just let me die.” Waluigi grumbled out, staring up at the ceiling without actually looking at it. His face was flushed, hair matted to his head from sweat. He barely flinched as a hand half-heartedly landed on his shoulder. 

“Shut up,” Wario said, voice cracking, “It’s not that bad.”

The eldest brother sounded horrible, broken and sore. The normal deep bags under his eyes now a darker color. Said eyes unfocused as he stared at basically nothing. 

Waluigi gave a weak growl, “Get your hand offa me…”

“No…”

“You’re making me hot…”

“Deal with it.”

“You absolute-” Waluigi flinched when Wario’s hand now landed on his face.

“Don’t curse.”

“You-”

“Don’t do it.”

Letting out a small sigh, Peach placed the tray down to step between the brothers. “Enough you two. At least you have energy to fight each other.”

All she received in return were muted and stuffed moans. Both retreat back to their bed, hiding under the thick blanket covering them. With them now just glaring at different parts of the medical wing. Again, not fully taking in what they were looking at. 

At least they were going to be quiet for a while.

Picking the tray back up, Peach made her way to the last occupied bed. Mario was snoring softly, cheeks a deep red, his limbs sprawled out and hanging off the bed. The blanket was bunched up at the foot.

Pulling up a chair, Peach placed the tray on the bedside table. She focused on the small pile of half-frozen cloths stacked there. Picking one up and placing it on Mario’s heated skin. Almost instantly, the ice melted away and chilled water poured out. Mario let out a small whine as his eyes slowly opened.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Peach whispered gently as she placed another cloth on his chest. 

“It’s fine…” Mario muttered weakly, eyes trying to focus on the princess. 

“Have you been sleeping okay?”

“...Yeah?”

Peach laughed softly, “You sure about that?”

“I mean… I think I’ve been sleeping…”

“I’ll see if we have anything that could help you.”

Weakly shaking his head, Mario replied back with, “It all just burns up…”

“Oh dear, well, we’ll still try and figure something out. How about we schedule another ice bath for you?” Peach smiled softly, gently replacing the towels with one of the frozen ones. 

“...How’s Luigi?”

“He’s fine. A little worried about all of you. But he’s fine.”

“...You’d tell me if he wasn’t, right?”

“Of course I would. I’d never lie about something like that. But I need you to relax, okay? You’re all in safe hands.” 

That seemed to ease whatever worry that was gripping Mario. His shoulders relaxed as he sank back into the bed. Aware that was all she would be gettin out of the ill hero, Peach replaced the towels one final time in silence. This time, the ice didn’t melt away instantly. A sign Peach took that the fever had been calmed for the time being.

After passing a few requests to the medical Toads, Peach departed from the room. She was not surprised to find Luigi sitting on the bench outside. 

The princess was struck with an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu at the scene. 

“Hello, Luigi.” Peach said softly as to not startle the other. 

The younger twin looked up upon hearing his name. Place the green cap back onto his head as he stands. “H-How are they?”

“Just fine. Wario and Waluigi even had a strange little fight.”

“That’s good…”

Moving slowly to allow the other a chance to pull away, Peach hooked her arm around one of Luigi’s. Offering a warm smile to the other. “I’m feeling a little peckish. Would you care to join me for lunch? We’ll check on everyone afterwards. What do you say?”

“Oh, s-sure, that sounds wonderful,” Luigi smiled back, “Thank you.”

“Of course, you know I enjoy your company.”

Still arm in arm, they made their way towards the dining hall. Peach happily listens to Luigi’s latest additions to the brother’s house. 

+_+_+_+_+_+

3. Puppy Eyes

Waluigi frowned as he allowed Luigi’s words to settle into his brain. Even then, he couldn’t really seem to gasp what had been asked of him.

Maneuvering out of his rather strange position around his latest contraption, Waluigi casted a pointed look at Luigi. Who was looking back hopeful.

“I’m sorry… You want me to what?” 

“Teach me what you know about machines…and what not. I know a little. I mean, enough to impress E. Gadd. And I’ve tried to lean on my own. But I learn better, especially something like this, when I can work with my hands.” As if to emphasize his point, Luigi flapped said appendages. 

“Okay…and?”

“Well, you’re the only one I know who works with machines all day.”

“Not all day.”

“Either way, I figured I could ask you to teach me all you know?”

Waluigi let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms. “Look, I’m not just dinking around in here. It’s not repairing someones’ toaster kind of thing. These are heavy pieces of machinery and my creations that I’m working with. Even Wario doesn’t get the pleasure of working on these beauties…usually.”

“The point is, I can’t work on my own stuff while teaching and worrying about keeping you safe. Learn how I did. Take small things apart, put them back together, and pray that they work again.”

The smug smirk he’d planned on sending Luigi’s way instantly fell through. Because Waluigi was not prepared to be met with wide eyes staring back at him. A weird feeling falling over the taller of the two as the air changed to one of…pity?

“What…are you doing?”

The pressure seemed to grow heavier as Luigi stepped forward. Was Waluigi feeling…bad for saying ‘no’? 

“Stop it. I told you I wouldn’t and that’s not going to change.”

Panic grew as the younger tilted his head ever so slightly because it felt as if Waluigi was losing. Losing what? What was he losing? Why did he feel bad? What was happening!?

“I don’t know what this is, but I don’t like it! Would you just stop! What are you doing!?”

Grambi above, were Luigi’s eyes sparkling!?

“Fuck, fine, alright! Just- stop it! I’ll show you! Just stop! Stop with whatever this is!”

Immediately, the moment those words were said, Luigi’s face dropped. Returning to the regular smile that Waluigi was used to. Which just threw the other into a giant loop of confusion.

“Thank you,” Luigi beamed, “Shall we get started?”

“Not until you explain to me what the hell that was all about!”

“What do you mean?”

“That…That weird look you were giving me!”

“Are you feeling okay Waluigi?”

“I- What- You- Just-” Waluigi let out a sharp huff to center himself before continuing again. “What was with the face.”

“What face?”

“You-” Another huff, “Big eyes, head tilted, the heavy air of pleading want that crawled into my soul and made me feel horrible…”

Luigi gave nothing away. Merely looking concerned as he slowly reached out to pick up a wrench. “So…are we going to-”

Waluigi yanked the wrench out of the younger’s hand and pointed it at him. “Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll worm it out of you soon enough.”

“I just wanted to know what you know.”

“...Stand over there and don’t touch anything.”

As the hours passed, Luigi eventually made it over to stand next to Waluigi. To being able to ask questions. To being able to work with the tools and equipment under Waluigi's supervision. 

He will never admit it…but Waluigi did enjoy his time. It was fun to share what he knew with someone else.

_____________________________

The hero’s front door opened with Luigi peering out. Beaming when he realizes it was Wario standing on the other side. 

“Hey Wario! What can I help you with?”

“I’m actually here to see Mario.”

“He’s at the castle right now. But you can wait here until he gets back if you want.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely! You actually have good timing. I was about to play some games.”

“Games…by yourself?” Wario looked at Luigi with a look of confusion as he walked in.

“Yeah! Come on, I’ll show you.”

Entering the living room, Wario found a strange contraption hooked up to the television. The screen showing some rather pixelated racing cars moving across it. 

“What is this?” Wario asked as Luigi plopped down onto the ground in front of the couch. 

“Video games.”

“What kind of games? Not board games?”

“Nope, video games! They're really fun. You can either play by yourself or…with a friend?” Luigi held up a second controller out towards the other with a small smile.

Wario frowned softly, looking a little wary. “Where did you even find this?”

“E. Gadd found it on one of his exploits. The shop owner said they’d found it in a trash heap and the professor was able to fix it. It’s from Earth, if that makes you feel better.”

“Your Earth?”

“I…would think so. E. Gadd is looking into it, saying if it’s more than the Green Pipe can transfer things over here. Anyway, he shipped it over as soon as he could. So…do you wanna play?”

“Mmm…I don’t know.”

“Please? I’m really bored playing by myself.”

“Well… You’ve been playing longer than I have and-”

Wario tensed when looking back to Luigi. To find wide eyes staring back at him. An uncomfortable feeling settling into his stomach. As if he’d done something so wrong. Even though he hadn’t even straight said no!

“I mean, I’m sure Mario would…be…”

Luigi slouched down, somehow making himself seem so small. That wrong feeling grew stronger as Wario was practically stared down with shining eyes. 

“Okay, maybe one game?” The older brother quickly said. Unable to hold back the sigh of relief when Luigi’s face, rather quickly, dropped to his normal smile.

“You’ll have fun, promise!” said Luigi, holding the controller back up. 

“Is…your face… What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You! Your eyes got really big and shiny and I felt terrible and…am I going insane?”

“Maybe it was your guilt of not spending time with me.”

Wario gave Luigi a look of shock as the younger just smirked back. It was the only note that showed Luigi knew what he’d done. Before Wairo could question further, Luigi shook the controller with a raised brow. To which Wario huffed and grabbed it. Plopping down next to Luigi and focusing on the screen. 

“Only one game.”

“If you say so.”

They played until Mario arrived back home a few hours later. Who found Wario huddled on the ground in defeat with Luigi beaming as the screen showed his player holding the #1 trophy. 

“...Luigi never loses games.” Mario stated calmly as he headed for the kitchen.

“Well I know that now!” Wario sharply shot back.

_____________________________

“No.”

“But Mario-”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s not that expensive.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It’s a treat.”

“And you’ve already had enough sugar for the day! I’m not getting you more.”

“This is better than any tennis match.” Wario whispered to Waluigi as they watched with fascination as the twin’s argued. 

Waluigi chuckled before replying with, “It’s nice to see them squabble like brothers, to be honest.”

Their attention was promptly pulled back to the twins as Luigi let out a dramatic groan. Interest going further when said twin pulled out the unfortunately familiar face. Wide eyes and tilted head that had broken them down so easily before. The pair watched inraptured as they waited for Mario’s response. Surely he wouldn’t last that long. Mario practically gave everything to his little brother already, so this would end so much faster. 

To their surprise, Mario landed a direct poke to Luigi’s forehead. The younger almost falling out of his chair in response. Quickly balancing himself before he actually did, going back to glare at Mario once more. Who had just gone back to his drink.

Luigi let out a huff of annoyance before he walked away into the crowd.

“So dramatic.” Mario mumbled with a small smile. His calm demeanor was broken when Wario and Waluigi leaned over the table. Both looking a little frantic as they stared the older twin down. “What-”

“How did you do that?” Wario hissed out.

“Do what!? Jeez, back up a little bit, will you?”

“How did you resist that stupid face?” Waluigi asked this time.

“Stupid face- You mean the ‘Puppy Dog Eyes’? What are you two- Oooh…” Mario’s confusion turned to a wide, knowing smirk. Easily leaning back into his chair while the other two tensely watched him. “You two were hit by it?”

“Don’t act superior” Wario frowned, “What did you do to avoid being unaffected by it?” 

Mario slowly sipped his drink, prolonging the quiet suffering before he answered with, “Luigi’s my brother. I’ve lived with him for 26 years. You don’t think I haven’t built up an immunity to it? It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

Waluigi leaned forward, uncaring as he pushed Wario’s cap over his eyes. “How do we do that? How do we get to the point of being able to ignore it?”

The smirk grew on Mario’s face.

“You don’t. Enjoy your suffering.”

+_+_+_+_+_+

4. Love Letters

The front door was forcefully kicked open. Followed by Wario calling out an eager, “Food time!”

“I swear if you break our door again!” Mario called out from the kitchen. Unable to pull away from the sink as he was pouring the pasta water out.

“I’ll just get you a new one. You worry too much.” Was the more than casual reply as Wario claimed a seat by the kitchen table. Only to let out a pained gruff of noise when Waluigi smacked the back of his head.

“Stop being an idiot,” Waluigi sniped out before asking Mario, “Where’s the sprout?”

“Upstairs, can you get him?” Mario requested as he poured the now water free pasta with homemade red sauce. 

“Yeah,” Wario unhelpfully added, “go make yourself useful.”

He let out a yelp as his chair was rather easily pushed over. Wario crashed to the ground as Waluigi made his way over to the stairs. Ignoring the out cries from both brothers remaining in the kitchen as he walked up. Heading for the room at the end of the hallway. The door was already open, Waluigi fully planning on casually strolling his way in with a loud call of Luigi’s name.

Only to pause when he entered the door frame. 

Luigi was sitting at his desk, which was half hidden by tools and pieces of numerous projects. But he wasn’t paying attention to those. Instead, blue eyes were slowly scrolling over the words on the paper he was holding. A small smile on his face with a dust of blush on his cheeks. Clearly caught in his own little world.

Stepping back around the door and leaning against the hallway wall, Waluigi gently knocked on the door frame. There was a familiar squeak of surprise followed by something being slammed and another heavy object landing on the floor.

“You okay up there?” Mario called out.

“Luigi’s just freaking out, we’re okay.” Waluigi shouted back and covered up Luigi’s quiet ‘Yeah!’ reply. The tallest brother casually strolled back in to find Luigi leaning over a small wooden box. The flushed now a deeper red from embarrassment. Part of his project laying on the floor now. 

“I’m here to bring you down for dinner.”

“Um, thanks.” Luigi whispered back. Slowly moving to sit up with the box now pressed to his chest. 

“Am I allowed to be an inquiring br- …and ask what that is?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Doubtful.”

Letting out a slightly annoyed huff, Luigi placed the box back down onto the table. Opening it to reveal it was filled with letters. All curled at the top and bottom. The ‘outside’ edges holding the torn seal of the Royal BeanBean Kingdom. Waluigi ignored the main writing and he instead flickered down to the bottom to find a very cursive signature of ‘Peasley’.

“That…is a lot of letters. You two have only been together for about, what, a month?”

“Close, we’re a few days away.”

Waluigi stalked further into the room to sit at the edge of the bed. “Still, this is so…charming.”

“You can say cute.”

“Thank Grambi, because this absolutely is cute. Adorable even,” Waluigi smiled hearing the other laugh, “So…weird question. You don’t have to answer but…you and Mario kind of suggested that you haven’t been successful in relationship endeavors in the past.”

Luigi didn’t reply right away. Instead reaching into the box to grab the top most letter. Running his thumbs over the crisp parchment. 

“I mean, that’s not an incorrect statement,” he stared slowly, “Even with how…different this place is, it’s far more accepting. I can show interest in anything and no one cares. That’s not how it’s like on Earth. There are a lot of questions and comments that are given, even more so when it’s not asked for. Since I wasn’t one who was the ‘normal’ or ‘typical’ male, there were labels on me. A lot of labels.” 

“I’ll be honest, and I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I’m a bit naive. Worse so when I was younger. I was the dating joke for a lot of people. I mean, I was a joke in general. But it became a ‘game’ to who could drag me along the longest. It’s…hard to trust people. Mario had to rescue me off the side of the road too many times. Now, I have a connection with a charming guy? A guy who’s a prince? Peasley is sweet and king and he’s so genuine. Everything he does so far is so…perfect. And it’s hard to believe he really likes me sometimes.”

“I’m just waiting for the rug to be pulled out from underneath my feet again. Then, I feel bad for assuming that Peasley would do anything like this.”

Waluigi sighed softly, reaching out to gently grip Luigi’s shoulder. “How do you feel about him?”

Luigi answered almost immediately, “I like him, I really do…”

“Then you do what you feel comfortable with. And, for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure Peasley likes you. I’m not going to say it’s all going to be roses. You know better than anyone here how hurtful it can be when you’re lied to. But you shouldn’t focus on the possible future. Just focus on the now and enjoy it.”

“Yeah, okay… Thanks Waluigi.” Luigi smiled back.

“Whatever. Just know that if Peasley does have the actual audacity to hurt you, you have a whole ass kingdom behind you. With someone who’s knowledgeable with hiding things.” Waluigi’s face was impassive as Luigi stared him down.

“...You scare me sometimes.”

“That sounds like a you issue. Come on, let’s go eat.”

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

Cashmere and Cradles

Jean Kierstein x Pregnant!Reader

summary: y/n gets sick, and Jean worries sick. then, they’re both in for the sickest surprise of their lives.

word count: 3226

a/n: I was inspired to write this by the always lovely @quiveringdeer! this is also something close to home for me due to me incorporating my personal experiences, so plz be nice in the notes ya’ll (everyone always is but I like putting the disclaimer there for certain fics)

masterlist

I haven’t stopped being nauseous since I woke up. Is this really all because I had an anxiety attack from that one asshole? I already googled it, maybe it’s the fact that I drank a ton of water right when I woke up. I don’t know. I could barely touch the alfredo noodles we had last night, but I thought that was just me being anxious. Jean looked a little concerned at dinner, but I told him I was fine when he kissed me goodbye this morning. Just tired.

Really, I’m exhausted. I feel my stomach lurch, and I realize, I’m going to throw up. I run to the bathroom as fast as possible, nearly missing the toilet, and the last bits of undigested dinner from last night come up, along with bile and all the water from earlier. When I stop retching, I flush the toilet, and stand up dizzily. I brush my teeth to get rid of the remaining vomit, gargle a million times, and wipe my face, which has tears streaming down from the pain. Without fail, my body always feels like it’s been shoved into a trash compactor when I throw up.

When I’m finished cleaning myself up, I decide to go back to bed. The thought of trying to keep food down right now is an awful one. I text Jean to tell him I think I got a stomach bug, and he immediately texts me back asking why. I smile to myself, rolling my eyes a bit. He’s such a worry wart. Just puked, but I feel a lot better. Must’ve been why I was tired, I reply.

Do you need anything? He asks me, and I can imagine his furrowed eyebrows right in front of me.

You’re so sweet, baby. No, I just need sleep.

Have you eaten today?

No. If I eat right now I probably won’t keep it down. I never can after throwing up. I’ll eat when I wake back up. Love you xo

Ok, love you too babygirl xo

I smile to myself, then set my phone down on the nightstand. It doesn’t take long for me to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

I’m woken by my phone vibrating on the nightstand. “Hello?” I answer groggily, and am spooked by Connie’s annoyingly loud voice.

“Y/n! Someone’s pregnant!” He yells into my ear. I hold my phone far away from me, pinching the bridge of my nose. Somehow, he’s already given me a headache. “Who?”

“I don’t know, but Sasha said her mom had a dream about fish! And you know what that means!” He says. I do not know what that means.

I yawn, asking, “Does it mean she misses her son-in-law’s cooking? Niccolo should visit her again soon.”

Connie pauses. “Hey, were you asleep before I called you?”

“Yes. Very peacefully, I might add. I have the flu.”

“W-why didn’t you tell me?!” He yells at me, and I wince.

“Connie, shut the fuck up! I have a migraine because of you! And because, I thought it would be obvious!” I say.

“Huh?” Connie asks in exasperation. “It’s three in the afternoon! How am I supposed to know you took a midday nap?”

“I never took a nap…” I trail off when I realize that means I’ve slept for basically 14 hours straight, excluding my short time being awake this morning. “Damn. I didn’t think I was this sick.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up, y/n.” Connie apologizes, panic gone from his voice.

I wave him off, not realizing he can’t see me for a few seconds. “No, no, it’s fine. I needed to get up anyways, I have commissions I need to work on, sick or not. Anyways, what’s your point? About the fish and somebody being pregnant.”

“Oh! Right!” He exclaims. “So, dreams have meaning. There’s symbolism in them that rings true.”

“Why are you using the word symbolism? That has no business being in your vocabulary, it’s out of your intelligence bracket.” I say, snickering to myself when he pauses to process what I’ve said.

“Hey! I know things, okay?!” Connie defends himself after realizing I called him stupid. “Anyways, when someone dreams about a fish, it means someone they know is pregnant. And there’s always someone who’s pregnant.

“Mhm.” I say. “Well, if you figure out who that pregnant person is, tell me so I can congratulate them on making a terrible financial decision for the next eighteen plus years. I’m tired, so I’m gonna go back to bed.”

Connie says, “But didn’t you just talk about how much work you were gonna do?”

“Times change, Connie,” I respond, “That, and I just got even more tired than I was when I first answered the phone. I think you’re just exhausting me with your idiocy.”

Connie gasps, and I swear I can hear him clutching his imaginary pearls. “Hurtful!”

I sigh. “Goodbye, Connie.”

He groans, like I’ve just ruined his plans to gossip about pregnancy candidates. “Bye, y/n.” The phone hangs up with a beep, and I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling as I think to myself. There aren’t many options, in all honesty. Ymir and Historia could have decided they wanted to start a family, Eren and Mikasa, Annie and Bertholdt, even Sasha and Niccolo. I’m sick as a dog, so I’m already counted out — can’t have a baby when you’re busy having stomach flu. Before I know it, I’m lulled back to sleep by the comfort of the plush mattress and cushy blankets.

When I come to, it’s sunset, and the offending noise that wakes me is Jean’s keys jangling in the doorknob. I would get up to unlock the door for him, but I’m too groggy to move more than a finger. The door squeaks open, and I hear him put his keys down on the counter, stepping out of his shoes. “Y/n?” He calls, concern laced in his voice.

“Over here!” I respond in turn, yawning and stretching a bit. Jean’s footsteps make the apartment vibrate. He’s not heavy, but the infrastructure isn’t immune to jiggle physics. He turns the concern and I can see the wrinkles forming in real time, all because of me. Then, I can see flowers and a card. “Baby!” I exclaim in surprise, “Is that for me?”

He smiles, and he’s no longer aged by seven years. “I couldn’t come home to my girl empty-handed now, could I? How are you feeling?” He sets the flowers down on the bed, along with the card, and gathers me into a gentle hug, kissing me on the cheek.

“Babe,” I argue, “Don’t, you’ll get sick.”

“And get to take time off to spend with the most beautiful person in the world? Sounds great to me.” He grins when I roll my eyes, then asks, “Did you stay in bed all day?”

I nod. “Yea, I felt pretty shitty. No throwing up aside from the one time, though. Oh! And guess what? According to Sasha’s mom, somebody’s pregnant. The fish in her dreams told her so.”

He meets my eyes with a knowing look, his smile ever-present. “I am taking this so seriously right now, I swear. And who did we hear this fish dream news from?”

“Connie, who dared to wake me from my slumber.” I sigh, sitting up in the bed so I can be on eye-level with Jean.

Jean says, “I see, I see. Sounds like indisputable fact, if you ask me.”

“No, babe. We’re asking the dream fish.”

He laughs, and I laugh with him. “Okay, enough bullying people for being superstitious. You need some water, and soft foods. You probably haven’t eaten all day, have you?” I shake my head no. Jean says, “Well, I’m not Chef Niccolo, but I can make something pretty saucy. I’ll see what I can manage.”

“Do we have…” I start, but trail off, realizing it was a stupid question. Of course we wouldn’t have Kraft mac and cheese. “Nevermind.” I say with a smile at Jean as he looks at me inquisitively.

Fifteen minutes later, he brings me a bowl of noodles with shredded chicken in it. “Is this alright?” He asks me, and I can see he genuinely is worried I won’t like it.

I smile gratefully at him. “Of course, thank you baby. You don’t have to worry about me, the nausea seems to be the worst of it.” I feel a twinge in my stomach looking at the food, but I know it’s just me being finicky because I’m sick. I have to eat something if I want to get better.

He pats my back. “All right, I’m gonna hop in the shower. The door’s unlocked if you need anything, as per usual.” He kisses my forehead, then leaves me to handle business.

When he’s out of sight, I stare at my food like it’s insulting me. My stomach feels like it’s doing flips, and I would rather go back to sleep, but I know if I don’t eat anything, Jean will freak. His mom used to get sick all the time — bad immune system — so now, after everything I’ve been through, he watches over me like a mother hen.

And what is it that I’ve been through? Well… a miscarriage. And an eating disorder. It was for the better that the miscarriage happened, because neither of us were ready for a kid, but it was grueling. I only found out I was pregnant because of the miscarriage, and it left me even more physically and emotionally drained than I already had been for the month before. It explained the nausea, and the inability to eat most foods, but after the miscarriage, I continued being unable to eat. I lost a lot of weight, and when I finally went to the doctor’s office, they recommended I start eating protein bars to regain what I’d lost. I did, and I haven’t lost the weight again since then, but Jean fusses over me, because he knows my eating disorder is a daily battle, not one that just goes away. I tell him not to worry, that as long as I’m keeping my current weight then we have nothing to worry about, but it’s like talking to a brick wall. Or, for accuracy’s sake, it’s like talking to a magical brick wall that finds the most anxiety-inducing message in all of your words and echoes that back to you.

The miscarriage and the events after it happened years ago, but I remember it like yesterday, and so does Jean. Every now and then, we whisper to each other at night, talking about what might have happened if I hadn’t miscarried.

I don’t know why I’m thinking about all of this right now. Maybe it’s because the nausea I’m feeling now reminds me of back then. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts, then mentally prepare myself to take a bite of food. I stab the fork into my noodles and twist, twist, twist, until I have a reasonable lump of noodles around my fork, ready to be eaten. I lift it up into my mouth, and when I smell the noodles… it’s over.

I throw my fork down, quickly setting my bowl down on the nightstand and run to the bathroom faster than the speed of light. I nearly slam the door open, and start puking as soon as the toilet seat and lid are propped up. I hear Jean pull back the shower curtain as I heave, splatters of liquid and mush landing in the toilet. The room is already steamed up – he loves hot showers. We both do, to be fair. “Babe? Are you okay?” He asks me, and it takes literally everything in me to not snap at him and say that I’m obviously not okay.

I give him a thumbs up. “I don’t know why, but just smelling the food made me nauseous. What was the expiration date on the canned chicken?”

As water trickles down his bare chest, sculpted abs dividing my attention, Jean says, “I just bought that on Saturday. No way it’s expired. If you can’t eat, why don’t you try taking a shower? You’ve been in sick clothes all day.” I put the lid down and flush the toilet, slowly nodding as I stand up. I strip down, joining him in the spray as he holds his hand out for me to take. Always the gentleman. I’m sandwiched between him and the warm water, and I sigh, feeling some relief for once. He slides his hands around my waist, kissing my cheek and leaning his head against mine, sighing with me. “I’m sorry you’re so sick, baby.”

I turn around to face him, the water hitting my backside as I wrap my arms around his neck, looking up at him. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” I get up on my tip-toes to kiss him, and where nausea once was in my stomach, a fire suddenly rages – a fire of want, of desperate need. I close my eyes, deepening the kiss and pressing my body against his. “Baby.” I pant out, reaching down for his member as I feel the slick growing between my thighs.

He grunts, stopping the kiss and holding my arms, stepping away. “Not right now, y/n. You’re sick. It would just make you worse. Let’s wait until you’re feeling better, yea?” I hadn’t actually touched him yet, but I can already see that he’s clearly aroused.

I frown to myself. I’m disappointed, but he’s right. “Yea, right. Sorry.” I don’t know what came over me in that moment, but right now, I feel riled up for no apparent reason. What is happening to me?

We finish our shower, and he grabs out the silkiest pair of pajamas for me, helping me dry off and put them on before helping me into bed, and I note he removed the offending food from the area. I don’t know how I managed to meet someone as kind as him. “Hey,” He asks me, “Weren’t you supposed to start your period a few days ago?”

I think to myself, then nod in confirmation. “I think I was. No big deal, though. I’d probably be miserable if I had to deal with that and this at the same time.” He looks deep in thought. “What is it?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “I’m just worried about you, is all. Why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll run to the store to get some hot cocoa for you to try?” Hot cocoa sounds delicious right now, I’ll give him that. It’s not usually something I crave, but maybe some sugar is just the thing I need after all of this bullshit.

I smile, then lay back in bed. “Okay, baby. See you then.”

When I wake up, it’s to Jean sitting at my feet, holding some kind of stick in his hand, eyes wide in shock, jaw completely slack. I look to my right and spot two mugs of cocoa sitting on my nightstand, one half-drunk. “Baby? What is it?” I ask him, unable to push myself up.

“I… I… I didn’t think… I only had an inkling of a hunch as to what it might be, but…” He stammers, more to himself than to me.

I sigh forcefully. “Jean. Baby. What is it?”

“Baby.” He says.

“Yes, I’m listening, Jean,” I reply, a bit annoyed that he isn’t listening. It’s not like him. “What is it?” I ask again, with more emphasis.

“A baby.” He says, and when he lifts up his hand to show me, I realize he’s holding not one, not two, but three pregnancy tests. And they all are positive. “You forgot to flush the toilet when you peed after getting out of the shower.”

Now, my face matches his. “What???” I say, suddenly jolting up into a sitting position, but not without a wave of nausea rolling over me. “I… what are we gonna do?” I say, panic setting in.

Jean answers, “We’re gonna do what you want to do, of course.” He leans over, setting the tests down on my nightstand and grabbing my hand, squeezing it. “If you don’t feel ready…”

“I–” I cut myself off when I feel my lip wobble. Tears suddenly well up in my eyes, and I fight the urge to let them loose. “Jean, I can’t.” I see the disappointment in his eyes, and I start to cry. “I can’t lose another one, Jean, I can’t. Please.”

He pauses, taken aback, but quickly hugs me to comfort me. “Oh, y/n, don’t cry, don’t cry. I’m an idiot, I thought you were saying ‘I can’t’ as in, you couldn’t keep it, I’m an idiot, ignore my initial reaction.”

I sniffle and wipe my eyes. “Wait…” I ask, “You mean you would rather me keep it?”

Jean laughs, and I almost puke from the vibrations alone, but I don’t care right now. “Yes, yes, I absolutely would rather you keep it, but I’ll support you either way.”

I start crying even more. “Oh, thank God, thank God, I thought…”

Jean pulls back slightly, but only to place kiss upon kiss all over my face. He pauses, looking me in the eye. “Put that thought away. It doesn’t have any place here.” He then places his arm behind my back, laying me back down on the bed. He starts unbuttoning my pajama top, just a few buttons from the waist up. He kisses my stomach, right below my belly button. “Hey, baby.” He whispers against my abdomen, and I lightly push him away with my arms.

“Baby. As cute as that is, please don’t. The vibrations make me nauseous.” I smile tiredly, but beckon him to lay next to me. He happily joins me, throwing an arm over my stomach and sliding under the covers.

Quietly, he says, “How does the cocoa smell?”

“Good.” I whisper.

He chuckles. “My mom said she liked that when she was pregnant with me.”

Sassily, I say, “Oh, so the baby has your taste, does he?”

And he says, “Possibly. Is it selfish of me to want them to be a girl? I’d love to have two of you around here. Plus, then Connie won’t try to make me name them after him in honor of him being the first one to share the news of your pregnancy.”

I roll my eyes. “Right, the fish gods.”

“I thought they were dream fish?”

“Same shit.” I scoff. “Can we just… never tell him?”

Jean hums. “Mmm… unfortunately, that might be a little suspect. We have to tell my mom first, anyways. Gramas always have seniority. Want me to wait a bit?”

I respond, “Maybe for a week, that way you can say I got you sick and you can’t go into work.”

Jean groans. “Babe, how are you so hot, so smart, and so pregnant with my kid, all at once? I feel so lucky right now.” He kisses my collar bone, laying back beside me like I’ve knocked him out with my grand idea.

I laugh, hand resting on my stomach. “You’re an idiot, Jean.”

“Just a fool in love,” He says, “Thinking about cashmere blankets and cedarwood cradles.”

[fuck-customers]

Idk if I ever told the story here but given as I’m thankfully not working rn to focus on school, I remembered an incident that happened at my old job (it’s not sad or enraging don’t worry all y’all)

I used to work at Moss Lress For Dess and my coworkers and managers were all cool there and the customers were mildly infuriating at most (for me who was a stockroom/fitting room attendant so I didn’t deal with register Karens)

One time we had a lot of stock come in so we were all rushing and one of our shortest and sternest managers (love her to death honestly she’s like the mom you don’t wanna disappoint) jumped in to help load the tall carts yknow, those metal shelved 4 shelf thing on wheels? Yeah, our policy safety thing with those is don’t stack anything on the top of it that could fall and hurt your head, like pillows and blankets and towels are fine cause they’re soft and stuff but sometimes we get so swamped with product we’d break the rule and put whatever on top but usually tried to make sure it was smth that wouldn’t fall easy or get pushed by the stockroom door off the top.

Well I was running carts with some others and the manager that hopped in to help was doing the fast stocking of some of the carts in our little conveyer belt type system we got back there, and she threw a stack of like 3 medium sized whiteboards on the top of the cart and I grabbed that one, called out I was running that section cart, then hurried out the double doors like everyone else, except this time the doors pushed the whiteboards off the top and they came crashing down on the top right above my forehead and one slid down on the way to the floor and cut/scraped the bridge of my nose a little and those were kinda heavy and I just braced myself cause it happened so suddenly

And this was obviously an accident cause everyone saw me cause it was right at the entrance of the stockroom so someone pushed my cart aside as my manager stopped what she was doing to help me to the bathroom to assess the damage and I was like ow haha wow my nose is scraped, and then we went to the office and she immediately started on an incident report and stuff she pulled the footage showing the accident and did all that for me as I sat there waiting and I told the people on the phone what happened and I ended up leaving early and had to call my brother to pick me up cause I didn’t know if I got a concussion so I didn’t wanna drive myself, I got a bit of a headache and was a little dizzy but to be fair I have a coconut head so it wasn’t that bad (I grew up basically being a basketball to the head magnet no matter where I was)

Anyways I could have gotten a big payout or smth cause it was clearly my managers fault for stacking the shelf like that on the cart but also we all loved her and we were all stacking them not correct because our smaller store gets too much product and told to rush it out every time by people above the managers so we kinda stick together like that??? I didn’t need medical attention luckily but I thought it was a funny story and tbh I’ve been hit worse in the head in the past as a kid so 🤷‍♂️

Anyways yeah that was prob like 2 years ago now??? That manager was a real one tho she was strict but understanding about stuff

Posted by admin Rodney.

[hawkeyedflame]

wow so i have never counted calories a day in my life because i do not care but i was listening to some doctor expressing her opinion that people who experience relief from autoimmune issues on a carnivore diet are probably just experiencing food monotony-induced calorie restriction (the tendency to eat less over time when you are given the same exact meal every day) because there is a wealth of literature documenting the benefits of fasting and ketogenic diets for autoimmune issues. weirdly enough she didn’t connect that perhaps the mechanism isn’t calorie restriction but the fact that eating very few or no carbohydrates (as with fasting, keto and carnivore diets) forces the body into ketosis, which has very well documented health benefits.

so out of spite i looked up my approximate daily caloric intake based on what i tend to eat in a given day and. my friends.

i eat almost three thousand calories a day. easily more on some days if i feel particularly hungry.

and i LOST WEIGHT. (i was already thin btw) i lost ten pounds in the first month, and then? i gained back a few pounds and all of it was muscle. no exercise whatsoever. passive weight loss, passive muscle gain. calories in calories out is literally not true lmao. anyways.

today is my three month anniversary of carnivore. my joint pain is gone. my dental problems are gone. my chronic fatigue is gone. my acne is gone. my depression is gone. my anxiety is gone. my brain fog is gone. my chronic headaches and constant neck pain are gone. my blood sugar crashes are gone. my adhd is far more manageable than it’s ever been, and gets smaller every day. i am not experiencing the slightest hint of seasonal depression. i fall asleep without difficulty and, more incredibly, i wake up without struggle. i have so much energy that i recently started exercising because i didn’t know what to do with myself.

eliminating carbohydrates from my diet saved my life. i wish i were being dramatic, but now that i know what healthy feels like i can properly recognize how sick and feeble i’ve been for the past ten years. i never want to feel the way i used to feel ever again. i’m alive. i’m actually alive.

[bugbyte]

Today was good! I’m a little overwhelmed!

3:30 am posting because I’m feeling slightly wound thanks to today being a whole day, but it wasn’t a bad day?

Short version: bunch of appointments, thankfully all online, but after last week being stress central this was tolerable. I got my MMJ eval and it was quick and easy and if anything I over prepared because I’m so used to not being believed and having to back myself up with data. (Which I have to gather and keep for myself because medicine is apparently just a free for all where no one communicates with each other through the online app they have specifically so they can all access data about me from each other! Neat!)

Anyway that was a major relief and I was ready to cry because they said that this should work really well with the conditions and symptoms I have. I’ll probably write something up on the process later (because I would’ve liked a plain English walkthrough of what to expect but that’s ok) but I got my card from the state, which is all digital now, so welcome to the future, I guess.

We headed out to a pretty well reviewed and priced medical dispensary in the area and had a long info session on what would work best for me and landed on some low dose (for now) capsules and gummies. Then we got fried chicken because I’d had enough for one day and went home to see if it would work.

I took a capsule, ate my chicken, and waited. They did advise taking it with a fatty food (could’ve been peanut butter or avocado or anything really; we just got chicken for its uh, health…improving….properties….yeah that sounds right) It took like a solid hour and change to notice anything, and the effects were pretty minor.

I kept trying to explain what was happening to Delade but it was a very subtle thing and hard to get across. Basically the calmest I’ve felt in ages (bonus) and like a slight tiredness, like when you’re tired at the end of the day but not exhausted or like drugged tired if you take something to get to sleep and it hits hard. Just a nice soft calm feeling.

I got brave and tried adding in an extra half a gummy (watermelon flavor!) and that hit much more quickly and mostly just added to the soft feeling. Trying to put it in better words, it was like the different between laying directly on the hard floor, or laying on a puffy blanket on the floor. You can still feel the floor, but it’s much more comfortable than otherwise. I didn’t really feel particularly loopy other than finding a few things funnier than they probably actually were. I think I would compare it in drowsiness more to like…if you’ve been given an opioid after surgery or dental work or something, it’s kind of more like that than feeling just knocked right out. I always felt like these kinds of things gave me a sort of “cozy,” safe feeling while still being conscious enough to do some light things, and this was similar. Everybody’s different though so I might be a weirdo.

So yeah, it does work! I wasn’t expecting like a 100% change in pain levels, and this will definitely take some fine tuning to get right, but there was a difference for sure. I had the makings of a nasty headache after being stressed out all afternoon, which didn’t seem affected much by anything I took so that’s interesting. If I hadn’t had the headache I probably would have attempted some comic work but staring directly into a screen felt like a bad idea. In any case the sharp edges of the pain in the rest of my body got filed way down and I’m pretty amazed overall.

I know this can work now! So I can try again tomorrow! Hopefully with less stress headache so I can get a better gauge on how it actually feels! And hopefully try to draw.

So now I just have to figure out how not to feel weird about this talking to various doctors. Some recommended it, some I can imagine being less positive, but I think the anxiety about being judged is mostly in my head.

Anyway! It was a good experience overall, both the process for getting the card and actually trying the drug itself. If it’s something you’ve been looking into and have questions I can try and answer based on my (admittedly brief) experience so far. I only know how things work in NY, but being pretty anxious I get how it can feel more enormous to figure out when you don’t know the whole scope of a thing or what it’s like to actually do.

This entire thing makes me cackle btw because in fifth grade I won some DARE essay contest in school and I think got some kind of gift card I spent on art supplies, and a hat with the DARE lion mascot thing on it, which I think I still have and should probably start wearing for maximum dumbassery.

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Age Confusion

You know I think the show producers/writers etc might have made a pig’s ear out of some of the character’s ages/ the timeline of the show, I was rewatching the series and in ep 2 Viserys says that Rhaenyra is 15 years old. Episode 3 is a 3 year time jump. Now I’ve never been particularly good at maths, in fact it was the only subject in school I struggled with, but I am sure that 15+3=18, So Rhaenyra should be 18 in ep 3 yet Viserys says that she is 17 years old. So did the writers just make a mistake here? Was Viserys so drunk by this point that he forgot how old his daughter is? I mean I suppose you could say that it wasn’t quite 3 years and Viserys was just rounding it up and she is close to turning 18. But it is still confusing. But it gets more confusing when you get to ep 8 because Condal said in the inside the episode that they did the six year time jump there because they wanted to age up all the kids into young adults/adults and that they are all between 17-21 years of age. But again the maths just doesn’t add up because there is a 10 year time jump in ep 6, no jump in ep 7, then a 6 year jump in ep 8. But that is only a time span of 16 years. We know that Rhaenyra had her sons during that time jump of 10 years, even if she fell pregnant right away the oldest any of her children could be is around 15, 16 at a push. Also I refuse to believe that this kid here is 17 years old he looks 14 at the oldest:

At least with the others they look like they could be around the ages of 17-21 although I still think Alicent’s children look noticeably older than Rhaenyra’s. But also we know that Aegon is 13 is ep 6, he was 2 in ep 3, there’s a one year time jump to ep 4 making him 3 then a 10 year time jump making him 13. Add the six year time jump and he should only be 19. Helaena who is 2 years younger should be 17 and we don’t know when Aemond was born in the show so who knows who old he should be. 

I haven’t read the book because I don’t want to be spoiled but in the end I was so confused trying to figure out how old these damn kids should be that I did decide to look up the dates of births of the characters from the book and also when the dance started/ year Viserys died, that happens in 129 AC. Using this date I was then able to work out how old each character should be. Aegon was born in 107 AC meaning he should be around 22 years of age. Helaena born 109 AC would be 20 and Aemond born 110 AC would be 19. This matches what Condal says though still doesn’t line up with the in show timeline where they should all be several years younger, also the characters do look around those ages in ep 8 and 9. Then you get to Jace who was born 114 AC making him 15 and Lucerys born 115 AC making him 14, this matches perfectly with the in show timeline but doesn’t match what Condal says about them all being between 17 and 21. Also just to make it more confusing Baela and Rhaena were supposedly born in 116 AC and are twins despite it looking like Baela is significantly older that Rhaena, that would make them the youngest of this older group at 13. Whilst I do think both Lucerys and Rhaena look like they could be around the 13-14 mark to me Jace and Baela both look older than 15/13 years old, they look more 16-17. The only explanation I can come up with here is that those inside the episodes must be edited and they just edited it really badly and Condal was only talking about Alicent’s children when he said they were between 17-21, like maybe their was a longer statement and it was something like Rhaenyra's children are between 14-15 and Alicent's are between 17-21 and they just cut it down. I don’t know I’ve clearly thought about it too much. 

Anyway there definitely seems to be some inconsistences here with how old these characters are/should be and I have successfully given myself a headache trying to figure it all out.      

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 200,

Morning thought: I wonder how they reckon the turn of the new year in this place?  As I recall, in my past world we counted it in early winter.  Sometime around now actually, given that the solstice was a couple of weeks ago.  Come to think of it, I’m not sure they even do distinctly mark the passage of years here.  They’re strangely averse to calendars here.  Part of the reason reorganizing the archive took so long.

Wait, but they still celebrate birthdays and refer to their ages by year.  Is this another “outsider auto translation” paradox?  This is going to bug me now until I ask someone about it, isn't it?

*******

No mists today, so no funeral.  In retrospect I probably should have gone outside to check on that before making my morning entry.

Anyway, back to yesterday’s exploration.

Once we’d confirmed that we could all hear the chanting I passed out the notebooks I’d taken from the archive.  The plan was for us all to try transcribing what we heard.  While the chanting did seem to be composed of multiple voices, as far as any of us could tell they all seemed to be speaking the same words in unison.  Thankfully the language of the Village uses a phonetic script, otherwise I’m not sure how we would have gone about writing down a bunch of unknown words.

First though, we took our time walking about the cathedral to see if we could identify a source for the chanting.  A task made confoundingly difficult by the apparent lack of direction to the sound, if indeed it truly even was a sound.  At any rate, covering our ears did nothing to make it quieter, yet talking loudly enough seemed to drown it out.  Almost like the ringing from a mild case of tinnitus; maddeningly loud when all else is quiet yet add in a little ambient noise and you practically forget it was ever there.

That all said the chanting did seem to get marginally louder the closer one got to the Reader statue.  Not that the statue was making the noise per say, for we could feel no vibration when pressing our hands to it and walking around it did nothing to the apparent directionality - or lack thereof - of the sound.  The best analogy I can think to give is one that I’m not sure if the Village’s language even has words for and I’m liable to give myself a headache if I try to think about or examine any of the individual words.  Said analogy being to compare the Reader statue to a wireless transmission antenna and our ears/brains/minds to receivers for the chanting.  The closer you get, the better the signal strength.

*******

Got curious and tried to really go back and examine those last two sentences I wrote a letter at a time then a word at a time.  It was… unpleasant.  Even more than I expected.  Headache, dizziness, nausea, the works.  Probably the worst reaction I’ve had to trying to bypass the auto translation.  Even worse than the first time I tried doing it before spending the weeks leading up to the rainy season practicing.  I wound up needing to take a break and lie down for a bit.

On the bright side, it makes for a decent topic transition as the only other time that came close to that was when I tried doing the phonetic transcriptions yesterday.  That made for an unexpected complication in our plans.  Not to mention that Maiko wasn’t yet quite proficient enough in writing to be able to keep up with the transcription as the words of the chant were being said.

Amending the plan, we decided that Cass, Lin, and Vernon would sit around the Reader while Maiko and I would keep walking around to see if there were any other loud spots or places where the chant seemed to change.

Maiko initially suggested that we split up to make the searching go faster, but I wasn’t about to go anywhere by myself on (probably) haunted ground.  

As we’d already noted in our initial sweep that the volume of the chanting swiftly dropped off as soon as we started to go down the stairs to the catacombs, we started by heading back out the door to case the surrounding area with its ruined foundations of side buildings.  That proved to be a less than fruitful endeavor.  The chanting - already quiet at that distance from the reader - cut off abruptly along with the chill as soon as we crossed the threshold, and nowhere amongst the wider ruins did it return.  We were just discussing the prospect of Maiko climbing to the lower terrace of the roof and checking to see if the voices could be heard from any of the broken windows when the rain that had been going all morning finally ceased.

Rejoining the others back inside the now quiet cathedral we compared notes over a lunch of what food we’d brought with us while we waited to see if the rain would return.  We confirmed that we were all hearing the same words, whatever they were, although there were - as expected - discrepancies in interpretations of pronunciations and how to best transliterate them.  And while there were gaps where someone’s focus would waver or their hand would cramp up resulting in missed words, having three sets of notes mostly patched those up.  Some words or phrases did seem to come up more than others, but during their time of transcription nothing ever seemed to loop.  Additionally, everyone that was in the cathedral at the time agreed that when the rain stopped, the voices cut off mid-sentence.

After an hour or so, the rain came back, harder this time.  The chanting seemed louder as well.

This time around Cass, Lin, and Vernon split up to different spots in the cathedral just in case there might be any variance in position beyond volume.  Meanwhile, Maiko and I returned to the catacomb.

We weren’t quite halfway down that spiraling staircase when I had another episode, flashing for a second - if even that long - to the other, capital-C Catacombs.  Thank goodness Maiko was there to catch me, or else I might have broken my neck tumbling down the stairs when my vision and awareness shifted.  What I saw in that moment  (or rather, heard) was the second most exciting thing of the day.

As ever in those nightmares, I was alone but I could still hear the chanting.  What’s more, I could understand it.  Unfortunately, it was too brief to make out more than a few words, taken mid-sentence, useless without context.

“-and then we will a-”

And then we will what?  Ascend?  Ask?  Answer? Aspirate?  As much as I’d like to think it’s that first one, there’s really no way of knowing for now.  I’ve never known it to rain on a mist night, and even if it did, it would hardly be safe to sleep down there with shades about.

Then again, for reasons I’ll get to shortly, perhaps not so unsafe as one might expect at first glance.

Once we finished our descent tumble-free it was obvious that the chanting was utterly absent here.  Maybe the rain had stopped already, but if that were the case, one of the others likely would have come down to let us know.  And so we began walking that pillared space once more, stopping and listening at intervals to see if the chanting returned as our location shifted.

Nothing.  Not even when standing directly under the Reader.

And then Maiko put a hand on one of the sarcophagi.  Gasped.  Told me to come over and do the same.

When I did so I could hear the chanting once more.  After a fashion.  Where the chanting heard above was comprised of many voices in unison, this was a singular speaker.  As I took my hand on and off the carved stone lid the voice started and stopped.  Or at least my ability to hear it did.  A quick test of Maiko keeping her hand on the sarcophagus and repeating the words as she heard them confirmed that the chant kept going without me listening and when I returned my hand I’d be hearing the same as Maiko.  Testing a few others, we confirmed that with each we heard a voice unique to that particular sarcophagus.

Maiko suggested that we check other sarcophagi to see if any of them were saying anything different from one another before we went back up to retrieve the others and have them record what they could hear down here.  It seemed a reasonable enough plan and I went along with it, thinking no more of it.  Nor did I object beyond a request to stay in eye and ear contact when Maiko said we ought to split up to check more at once.

I made the connection some time later when I heard a shout from the other end of the catacombs and realized I’d let Maiko out of my sight.  It wasn’t a loud shout.  The sort of noise you make when you want to scream in anger or frustration but are trying to stay quiet at the same time so it comes out more like a grunt.  Not loud enough to be heard by anyone upstairs.

I ran toward the noise, catching up just in time to see Maiko straining to dislodge the lid from a sarcophagus.  She ignored my cry as she lifted and pushed.  It was a strain even for her, but with a grinding of stone on stone she managed enough to peak in through a corner.  At times like that, I wonder if there’s something supernatural to her strength on top of her size and musculature.

Not that there was much time for such musings.  The deed was done, and by then I was close enough to peer around Maiko and take a look myself, curious despite all my protestations mere moments before.

Inside was a shade.

It was hard to get a good look at it through that aperture and their forms are indistinct by nature, so there was no way to tell if it had horns like Maiko or other features like Iole’s Ascended illustrations, but there was no mistaking what it was.  And just like a shade at morning’s first light, it melted and disappeared before our eyes.

A shade.

Lying in a box.

During the daytime.

And it dissipated when we opened the box.

Lining the interior of the sarcophagus on every surface I could see were carvings.  Inset into these carvings, filling them, were pieces of metal that brought to mind Priscilla’s map box and the machines in Melaina’s workshop, each perfectly shaped to fill their slot and flush with the surface.  Whether they were more examples of that ancient script or abstract geometric shapes I was too busy fighting down the warring reactions of panic and adrenaline to say with any certainty.

Maiko returned the lid to its original place without another word.

We stared at each other for a time.

Back to the stairs, still not a word.

No chanting from the box when I put my hand on it just before leaving.

Upstairs the others greeted us and asked if we found anything interesting down there given how long we’d been gone.

I told them that it was quiet down there, but if you put your hand on a sarcophagus you could hear chanting.  Just one voice, and a different voice per sarcophagus.

Neither of us mentioned opening one.

Cass of course literally jumped at the chance to head right down and try it out for herself.  Lin volunteered to stay up top and keep transcribing while Cass and Vernon went down and recorded what they heard there.  Maiko volunteered to escort them down and show them while I stayed to keep Lin company.

No one ever mentioned any kind of change or disruption that might have been connected to the release(?) of that shade.

We stayed in those grouping assignments until the rain stopped.  A second round of note comparisons indicated that, as best we could tell, the downstairs chanting was in sync with the upstairs.

Afterwards, we called it a day and headed back out, Maiko to the house and the rest of us to the Village in case the mists came the next morning and we were required for the funeral.  I’ve got hold of all three notebooks now.  Or rather, I did, but I’ve hidden them until I’m ready to go through them with Cass.  I worry this is the sort of answer-seeking that Theo wouldn’t take well to if he caught wind of it.

Speaking of Cass, I suppose I should mention that I’ve had her doing various bits of busywork around the archive today while I come up with excuses not to start going through the notes in detail yet.  Mostly I’m still trying to decide whether to tell her about Maiko opening that sarcophagus (“umbraphagus”?).  I’d hoped that writing down what happened would help get my thoughts in order for making a decision, but I’m not much further on that than when I started.

I’m still not sure why I didn’t tell the others about that, and it makes me sick keeping them in the dark like that.  And yet every time I start to I find myself either stopping or changing the subject.  The best words I can think to put to it is it feels like that Maiko and I crossed a line with our transgression, breaking too strong a taboo to even speak of the deed afterward.

First chance I get I should talk it over with Maiko.

Putting off thinking about a little while longer though, two hundred days.  That feels like another milestone.  I ought to say something retrospective here but I’m not sure what.  Some poetic comparison about the happenstance bookending of anticipating tomorrow’s funerary mist night compared to one hundred’s looking forward to a sunny day at the beach (and weird, revelatory conversation with Pat)?  Maybe a comparison of my experience of the island’s seasons?  How about this: a disclaimer to readers, whether future archivists, the future outsiders, or even my future self taking a stroll down memory lane.

If you haven’t figured out by now, I’m not a reliable narrator.  No one truly is, but I worry I may be worse than most in these journals of mine.  I simplify.  I streamline.  I’m far from objective in my descriptions.  I guess at people’s emotions because I’m bad at reading them and I probably make their personalities come across as flatter than they are because I record only my limited perspective and their relations to me.  I fill in blanks in my memory for the sake of narrative.  

The purpose of these journals from the beginning has been to help me make sense of myself and my circumstances, and this is how I do that.  Does that make me a bad archivist?  Perhaps, but I like to think it makes me human, and this was never for the official record anyway.

All of this, what has come before and what is yet to come, is not a record of events as they happened but as I experienced them.  We would all do well to remember the difference.

<==Previous          Next==>

[tmisaccidentreportbook]

MAG003, Across The Street

Case #0070107, Amy Patel Release date: 27 March 2016 First listen: 13th Oct 2020 I think, I think I was on the grounds duty, listening before guests got in.

Ok, so the headache’s still here, maybe it is a little bit of a concussion. Amy Patel, same hat? Same bumped hat.

- The statement giver and set up to this one felt like quite the change in pace. We’ve had 2 statements from a student and a recent graduate respectively, trying to enjoy life and cut loose a little. Amy is trying to enjoy life as well, but she’s turning back to education to do so. I don’t think there’s any indication of her studying in order to better herself and her situation, this is for personal fulfilment rather than career progression. But it struck me that in this instance, her encounter, and it’s a long set up so bear with me, it feels like almost she’s being targeted for her curiosity. Her desire to learn and expand her knowledge.

- I don’t know about other folks, but when lock down kicked in, I signed up for online learning courses. I was still working, but the rotas were pared right back to minimise contact and on the days I wasn’t in work I had sat on my bed and spiralled. Until I had written myself out a timetable for the day in order to give myself some structure. Yay… probable undiagnosed neurodiversity… Anyway, I did a course on the history of royal fashion. Absolutely nothing to do with my line of work, but it was grounding and gave me something to do when we were all needed to isolate. So, yeah, I get it.

- I found it interesting that she mentions the alternative was ‘become and alcoholic’ and Graham was a ‘chain smoker’. And then her watching him day to day. In a lot of ways, The Magnus Archives could be used as a tool to examine addiction in a lot of different forms. I’m given to believe that this was examined in the final season, with some unpleasantness being the fall out leading to Jonny disclosing his own history with addiction. I’d like to explore it, but I highly doubt I have the tools to do it justice and with the care the topic deserves.

- Anyone who can and does take good notes during a lecture, impresses and frightens me in equal measure. I always preferred workshops and discussions over lectures. Although lab hours can bite me. I don’t know if it’s the dyslexia, but I’ve typically been an auditory learner. Possibly another reason why podcasts and audiobooks have such a grip on me…

- Ah, the ordeal of being a single woman trying to use public transport… At night… In London… been there. It’s incredible how many people will see you in a situation where you literally can not run, and think it’s a good time to interact with you.

- Amy may have been a good one for The Eye? Studying, looking to expand her knowledge, people watching, making observations, watching her Graham out of her flat window. Maybe it’s the need to be aware of your surroundings. Maybe it’s not.

- ‘Liked the guy fine, but I still didn’t like the idea of him knowing where I lived.’ Once again, the back ground radiation of ‘the experience’. (I’m hesitant to call it the ‘female experience’ because, exclusionary. Anyone got a better phrase? Y’know, the ‘I don’t have the protection of being a cis/het/white/man’ experience?) But that need for privacy, even if there is a lack of a threat. Just, the knowledge in the safety of being unknown. Wait, this is a statement of The Stranger, OK, makes a bit of sense now that I’m writing it out.

- And cue head injury. The vanishing ‘window box’. And the table.

- The table was an interesting one to me as I started to learn about the Entities and looking back, I think I thought it was possibly and artefact of The Spiral rather than The Web. The intricate carved pattern, the hole in the middle could have easily been a door as the vacated space of a spider at the centre of a web.

- Now that I’m thinking about it, at some points there is a very fine line between the deceit and the manipulation.

- She mentions, months later, how she’d not spoken to him since the head injury. She had been busy with work and had to drop out of the course, and beyond work, she doesn’t mention any social contact. Graham ‘may have had a rich fulfilling life outside of the flat’ but if it mirrored his existence within it at all, it was a solitary one. I think I heard somewhere that after giving their statements, a lot of folks fell prey to The Lonely, isolated by having experienced things that no one ought to. I think I heard that Elias was telling Peter where to go, but so many folks were ripe for The Lonely before they came to the Institute. Many before they even had their brush with the Entities. I wonder if the other Entities could sense it, could smell them out. Knew that fear could take such a firm root if there was no support system to help weed it out.

- I wonder what about a person decides if they can recognise the Not!Them. Is it something about the observer themselves? Is it a predisposition? Is it random? Or is it selected by when would sew the most fear? After all, the Not!Them is recognised by an acquaintance, Amy with Not!Graham, a one time meeting, Melanie with Not!Sasha, and the daughter of The Kindly Mother. All very different levels of relationship, but all have ripples that spread wide.

- The observer becomes the observed and The Eye stirs.

- ‘I moved out soon after and never saw him again.’ … My dear, are you sure? Because, we already have a president of Entities not really needing to be given an address to find people and that thing can change everything about itself.

- ‘Tim came through with this one.’ Yeah he did! ‘He better not be using institute funds to woo filing clerks again.’ ‘Institute funds’ is an odd name to potentially have for one’s dick but I’ve heard odder.

- ‘Keep watching.’ I’m 3 episodes in. And I don’t think I could do anything else.

[chasing-rabbits]

Dkjkldjlsjlkadjklsa I’m so annoyed at myself for not being as diligent as I usually am. Went to a coffee shop I’d not been in for ages and they had a GF Vegan brownie and its just like yesss so I got that and a strawberry lemonade. So I was sat there eating and drinking and I started to feel a bit sick. I had ploeghm or however you spell it I can never get it right. Anyways I had that and by the time I went to get up I had a very minor headache. I figured it was the lemonade because you know sometimes drinks like that can set me off too. I had to stop eating though cos I was feeling a little sick so I was gonna get a second brownie to take away and pack that one up with me too but then I realised the brownie I had was NOT the brownie shown as GF & Vegan. There are 2 GF brownies ones vegan the other isn’t the vegan one has nuts on and I know I know how could I NOT have noticed when they handed me the brownie and how could I not have double checked. Yes I’m kicking myself over that one because I usually double & triple check to the point my dad would get annoyed ( but he can’t not since last xmas where I triple checked to the point it was going OTT and guess what THEY GAVE ME DAIRY after supposedly confirming with the chef that it was definitely dairy free. Did they fuck check with the chef so now he can’t give me any shit about checking ‘too much’). On a side note I’ve never actually been given a dessert that wasn’t vegan by mistake before it’s always usually some where in a meal and yes more often than not its when I’m ordering a vegan dish that I get given dairy honestly it should be safer to order vegan w/ a dairy allergy but somehow it’s worse. I threw up in the cafe well I made it to the bathroom thank fucking god they let me use the staff one as they have 1 toilet in the entire place to be fair its not a big cafe. And I think it’s the least they could do given they gave me the wrong one. I think it’s a 50/50 split though because I should’ve double checked this time. I’d go back again though because unlike other places I’ve been where it was like genuinely 100% their fault this time it wasn’t and tbf having 2 GF brownies I can see the mistake & how easy it was to make. Unlike ordering a VEGAN dish and being given dairy. I ate like half the damn thing nearly usually I would immediately stop upon one mouthful because I get symptoms but this happened the last time too I got given real coleslaw not vegan and I didn’t notice and got sick later on but 9 times out of 10 when I’m given dairy & have actually eaten it by mistake I usually know like bam but certain items its like no way I’m gonna fucking taste the dairy in a brownie like that or the coleslaw vs milk in my coffee or something you know. If its like when I got given the coleslaw I’m gonna be in for a not so fun 24/48 hours yaaay /s on comes the dizziness and room spinning that also kinda feels like travel sickness but if you were on a tiny boat in awful weather so I can’t really get up & do anything I can about get out of bed to the sofa and that’s it also the throwing up which is never fun. Idk how much dairy is in a brownie nor how much I consumed it wasn’t a massive brownie and I had maybe half probably slightly less so I mean hopefully not too bad, right?

[myapathyhaspeaked]

fun fact when i fainted as a teenager (spent too long by the poolside in the florida summer) my mother started constantly asking if i felt faint/hot or if i’d had anything to drink whenever the temperature shoots up. which i mean kinda valid, but i don’t have anything that makes me prone to fainting, and she was wasn’t as worried about my brother. like the only problem was that it was hot and id probably not had a drink in a while. she cooled off after a while but sometimes she still asks if i’m drinking stuff.

so uh cut to me being in waiting mode all saturday, therefore not eating or drinking anything bc i didn’t leave my room and id ran out of snacks and my thermos was empty, plus by the time i started being hungry enough to not ignore it i was preparing to shower. and i get in the shower and there is a fine line between boiling and normal human temperatures, and i can’t find it because the dial is janky, so i settle for a simmering boil and, uh, shower.

and it’s fine for the most part, pretty humid (that’s a surprise tool that’ll fuck us up later), but when i get out and start changing into my church clothes, my vision starts to get a staticky (well, more staticky than it usually is without my glasses lol, plus it’s a stall so nothing should be so far away that that’s happening). and uh oh, guess what was the beginning symptom at the pool. so i start rushing to put on my clothes, which is made a bit difficult by my arms feeling like i’ve replaced my bones with lead, my sense of balance being slightly fucked, a massive fucking headache, and the static obscuring my vision pretty well now. all the while i’m loudly muttering help bc if i fall and bonk my head id like help but for whatever reason i can’t talk louder than conversational level and there’s no one there anyway.

but i have my dress on now (backwards), so now i’m perfectly decent to um fall on the icky shower stall floor. luckily i didn’t fall backwards like last time (or at least i think i did, i was grabbing my dads arm as we walked to the car but i woke up supine on the ground) my legs just give out and i crumple to where my dress is now wet but i don’t hit my head. yippee. also i didn’t go night night so i’m not entirely sure it counts as fainting?

but i pick myself up as soon as i’m somewhat sure i’m not an immediate fall risk and i get to the part where the sinks end and there’s a corner to the door and oh would you look at that im still a fall risk bc i fall again! still, didnt hit my head, so pretty good. dropped my shower stuff holder thing and my body wash fell out so i had to come back and duck under the sink to grab it though. ugh. however, did not go night night. so i’m also not sure if this counts as fainting. maybe i can count them as half faints and say i fainted once idk.

so i get up and do my best to speed walk to my room bc it’s at the end of the hall and the hallway has a lot more traffic than the bathroom. and it sucks bc i’m dizzy and my head hurts, plus my dress is wet and i just touched the bathroom floor twice when i’d just showered, so i feel very gross. but i don’t have time to shower again so it is what it is. and once i get into my dorm i lock the door (probably stupid given the circumstances but oh well) and lay on the floor so that i’m physically incapable of falling but mainly so that i can cool off bc the floor is kinda cold. and i just uh walked to church after that. did not remedy the hungry/thirsty situation (i might have taken a swig of those naked smoothie bottles but definitely not enough to do anything).

and uh i have that under lock and key from my family bc if i tell my parents that my mom will probably not let me out if it’s over 90 ever again, and that’s like most of a florida summer, and i can’t tell my brother bc he might snitch (even more likely he’ll make fun of me, but if my parents over hear the jokes it’ll have the same effect).

so um huzzah, don’t leave me out in the sun.

[neilujen]

i’m turning to a monster.

i feel like i’m turning to a cold heartless person. i started thinking about it when out of boredom, i retook the mbti test. the first time i took in back in uni, i was an infp, when i was about to graduate i turned to an infj, then few days ago i got intj. there’s a question there that made me think about how much i’ve changed

When making decisions, you focus more on how the affected people might feel than on what is most logical or efficient.

i got a hard time answering that, and questions alike. old me would’ve selected focusing more on how the affected people might feel. but i got stuck. am i losing my heart and using my brain too much? also this made me think of seeing a shrink, i’ve been thinking of seeing one for answers if i have adhd but now i feel like there’s more to it.

also i used to give delivery riders a tip because their job is tiring, but i turned to thinking ‘that’s their job anyway, they’re getting paid anw’. and there are other scenarios where i think ‘i’m not the government, go rely on them’. now i’m getting a headache for being self aware.

i’ve been thinking about how possible it is for me to turn insane. like you know those old artists or authors who lost their shit because of thinking too much. i feel like i can go spiraling down to madness, if i rewire my brain incorrectly or if i go through another life changing events. i can’t even understand why am i so into music and arts, like i know in my soul that i can pursue that and be excellent at it given that i can focus to it and leave tech behind.

why do i have a brain like this? i wish i have someone in my life who could anchor me to reality so i don’t go spiraling down. who could remind me not to think way too complicated, not to ponder about the complex questions. i feel daunted of myself. it’s like there are a lot of possible versions of me to turn out in the future, and what if it’s the worst one? i don’t know.

i’ll try to change since i’m so aware of it, hope i can actually do it. or is my heart already lost in the process of staying alive through all of it?

i’ve been thinking too much, help me.

[sweetmslily]

Trans women and femmes have periods on HRT. And Im tired of tiptoeing around that fact.

I’m in the waning days of mine. This month there’s been knock-you-to-the-ground cramps, headaches, ugly bathroom times, mood swings, and bloating. It typical lasts 4-6 days for me, and the timing is predictable enough that my phone can predict when it’s happening.

The only thing I can’t do is menstruate, and so would never claim to know what that’s like, even if I wish I could. The fact that I’m unable to bear children is a massive source of grief and psychological distress. Trans women just don’t have that ability yet, unless they save their sperm, something I couldn’t do because of dysphoria and financial inaccessibility.

This is why I openly search for ways in which I can inhabit a motherly role, both for myself and for others. There are more ways to be a mother than birthing a child, but often, the routes are strewn with obstacles. I would have to be deemed psychologically sound, as well as financially stable, to adopt, which is unlikely given my disabilities. I think those requirements are important in ensuring a good outcome for an adopted child, but cis people can just make babies whenever they want. I have to fight to have mine.

I was recently asked if I could change my language from “period” to something like “cycle”, because I don’t bleed, and the person felt like I was erasing their experiences. And I hold no anger or resentment towards this person; they’re someone I care about very much. But I’m not able to accommodate that request, and at first that made me feel like an asshole.

But the fact remains that trans women are the only women I’ve seen asked for this. There are so many cis women and trans folks with uteruses who also go through periods and yet don’t bleed, whether that’s from personal choice like birth control or hysterectomy, or from involuntary tragedy, such as cancer or other illnesses. Nobody tells these women and uteri owners how to talk about their bodies.

So why is it trans women who face this?

If I’d been given the choice, I’d have chosen to be able to birth children, and I’d accept all the pain and misery that came with fertility. I would choose to menstruate and be fertile if that were possible. I’ve always chosen the hard way to do things in my life, and I’ve always taken risks as a trans person to have the life and the body that matches my identity, such as going for bottom surgery with no guarantee of a positive outcome. I could have emerged with energy draining complications and ungodly pain, as some friends I know have, but I chose to do it anyway.

This is much the same to me. It’s not like vaginoplasty is a maintenance-free surgery. I dilate every three days, I salt bath about the same, and I wear liners or pads every day to ensure any leakage, which is normal, is caught. Different rituals for the same reasons.

Trans women and femmes have periods. I will always seek to help others understand the how’s and whys of trans experiences, but I will not change the language I use to speak about it, because I am a woman, and all women and anyone who experiences period symptoms should be allowed to speak to their experiences in language that makes them feel validated and supported.

Stop asking trans women to change how they speak about themselves for your comfort. Work on the hang ups and internalized transphobia that brought you here and don’t make it our problem, please.