#at least it was the cheap kind at Walmart

[miss-floral-thief]

Well

I have my hat but couldn’t find my headband

[lotties-ashwagandha]

WE NEED MORE OF THE GODDESS WEEMS CULT IMAGINE THE READER ACTUALLY STARTING A CULT WITH HER STUDENTS AND DOING SOME KIND OF "PRAYER" WHEN LARISSA WALKS IN AND IS LIKE "I'm too old for this-" AND GIVE THE READER A GOOD SCOLD ABOUT IT BUT CAN'T HOLD IT AND EVENTUALLY LAUGH IT OFF BUT IS SERIOUS ABOUT ENDING THE CULT BUT READER IS LIKE "Hmm maybe" PLEASE STAND FOR THE GODDESS WEEMS CULT 🛐🛐🛐

HAHAHQHAGAG BYE I LOVE THIS OK HERE U GO ANON:

-

CULT ACTIVITY?

pairing: teacher!reader x larissa weems

word count: 809

notes and warnings: ok so I loveee this request but I edited the plot just a bit,, I’ve made it so that reader and her students are pranking Larissa w pretending they started a fr cult lol

You had never really intended for any of it to go this far.

It had started as a joke between a few of your students, that you were so infatuated with Larissa Weems that you would be starting a cult for her. Larissa had found out, and after ensuring that you were just embarrassed enough, she had let it go. You were sure she had already forgotten about it.

The semester was soon to be ending. After the incident with Marilyn Thornhill and the Hyde, everyone was a bit shaken up, and classes would only be continuing for another week or so. You had determined that your students were in desperate need of some fun — everyone was still so jumpy, and your classes were unusually quiet.

Every year, at the end of the semester, the principal of Nevermore was required to observe each class to check the teachers’ performances. Students were also meant to submit review forms for each professor, which had been submitted the week before.

Today was your day of inspection. Larissa would be sitting in on your last class of the day, for which you had prepared little homework for the students to do.

Instead, you had gone into Jericho and bought 25 black capes and 25 black masks. They were now in one of the drawers of your desk, waiting to be revealed as all of the students of your last class of the day filed into the classroom.

Once everyone was seated, you looked at the clock — you had only a few minutes before Larissa would arrive.

“Good afternoon,” you said, and within moments the classroom grew silent. “Today I’ve prepared for you all an extra special assignment.”

Murmurs erupted through the class, whispers about quizzes and essays. You held back a laugh, for your plans were so much different than what they had suspected.

“Some of you have been spreading jokes about a Goddess Weems cult. While I know it may be disappointing that such a thing does not and likely will not exist at Nevermore, Principal Weems will be joining us for this class period, and I think we’re all due for a bit of fun,” you explained, beginning to take the capes and masks out of your desk. “Today we’re going to be pranking our favorite principal.”

—

Larissa knocked lightly on the door to your classroom, giving everyone a moment to settle before she crept in.

She furrowed her eyebrows — the lights to the classroom were off, and the students stood facing her as shadowy figures, dressed in cheap Halloween masks and Dracula-esque capes.

Larissa flipped on the lights, and upon seeing you at your desk in a Jack O’Lantern mask and cape, she could hardly stifle a laugh. “Am I being initiated into a cult or something?”

A few of the students broke into quiet laughter, for which they got scolded by some of their classmates. After a moment everyone said in unison, “All hail Goddess Weems. We pledge our loyalty to the wearer of Crimson Lipstick Number 10 from Walmart. May her followers be blessed.”

Larissa glanced around in disbelief, crossing her arms. “Well, I suppose it’s about time you all realized how wonderful a principal I am.”

At this you broke, in hysterics as you took off your pumpkin mask. “We haven’t even gotten to the choreographed dance yet! Was it at least a bit creepy when all the lights were off and we were just standing there?”

“Oh, this was meant to scare me?” Larissa teased, coming to stand across from you at your desk.

“I thought it was very terrifying!” Said Eugene as he took off his zombie mask. “I haven’t been this thrilled since half of my bees flew away and battled an enemy tribe.”

“That’s…. so very interesting,” you nodded, attempting to picture how bees would have a ‘battle.’

“Class is dismissed early today,” Larissa announced, and your class broke out in excited whispers.

When you nodded, they all began to rush out into the halls.

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or concerned,” Larissa teased. “I must admit, I’ve never been pranked by a teacher before.”

“I’m honored to be the first,” you teased, taking off your cape before going over to wrap your arms around her.

“I could fail your faculty inspection for cult activity.”

“You could, but then I’d get fired, and you’d have no one to bring you coffee to your office every morning.”

“I could get an assistant,” she teased.

“Yes, but they would buy the cheap coffee grounds. I splurge for the whole $7 pack.”

Larissa laughed, her voice airy and angelic.

“Besides,” you added with a small smile, “you like having me around.”

“What do you mean? All I did was marry you.”

You shook your head, grinning. “And now we have an entire cult.”

———

taglist: @cartoonpeoples @thedeconstructionist @cordeliass @paulsonsratched @goodeday2u @traumatisedfangirl @mayfair-fleur

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update - Rescue Wheels Edition™

Slowly but surely, the Rescue Wheels merchandise has been popping up in stores here in the USA. Naturally, I've been keeping an eye out for them, so it's time to show off what I've found so far!

First off, I decided to put a background on my monitor again, just to spruce things up. I also attempted some better lighting by using a lamp instead of my camera's flash. Some pics still came out a bit iffy, so I apologize.

In any case, here's the first piece of Rescue Wheels merchandise I got! Nearly a whole month ago, in fact. I seen it listed on Amazon and figured why not go for it, since stores here in the USA were taking a long time to get them.

The vehicle, itself... it's not my favorite, I'll say that. It's just shaped a little too box-like, but the flame graphics are cool, even if they are just stickers. Strangely, the ladder water cannon on the back doesn't move at all. If anything, I do like the figurine. Not the best, but I still like it.

Next, the usual plush doll, which we always seem to get upon each new subseries or movie. They decided to go back to the old style, which is kind of a shame, since I liked what we got for The Mighty Movie and Jungle Pups better. It just looked cuter, imo. Ah well.

Now that's one cool-looking pup. Super cute! 😎

Next, a new "Pup Squad Racer" vehicle! With not-so-good lighting that I didn't notice until I upload these pics. I probably should've put it on something to get more of that background in the shot. Also, ignore the dust under the monitor... I forgot to get rid of that. 😅

As you can see, this is yet another one of those smaller vehicles. I'm fully convinced these are indeed meant to be replacements for those True Metal vehicles... which is perhaps for the best, since the last few we got were kind of cheap. These are a nice alternative.

Unlike the True Metal vehicles, the pup's head is a lot bigger, so it's a bit more detailed and nicer. I dare say it's pretty cute! And...

...Hey, wait a minute. Who's big tires are those? That doesn't look like Marshall's vehicle...

Wait...

Is it...?

BOOMER??

That's right! Boomer, the villain pup of Rescue Wheels, got his own figurine and vehicle! I'll admit, that's quite rare, since PAW Patrol villains rarely ever get merchandise of any kind. It's only happened a few times in the past.

If you remember that character spotlight post I made of Boomer, then you might also recall that I became quite a big fan of this pup after watching Rescue Wheels! Thus, when I heard he was getting his own toy, I knew I had to have it. Admittedly, I think his vehicle turned out a bit nicer than Marshall's. Don't tell anyone I said that.

His figurine's also nice, if you ask me. Even as a toy, this pup looks quite cool... and cute! I'll certainly have to add this somewhere to my Marshall collection. He'll go nicely next to Claw. Two of my favorite villains, hanging out. We just need this in the cartoon now! lol

Oh, by the way, if anyone's interested in one of these, know that they're exclusive to Walmart (at least, here in the USA). They also made one for Roxi, which I believe is exclusive to Target. Just an FYI.

But wait... that's not all! Even more surprising than the vehicle...

Boomer also got a plush doll! Wow, you really lucked out, Boomer! At this point, I'm hoping the kids asks their parents for these and his figurine & vehicle... that way, Spin Master will see him as popular and we'll see him again someday soon. Hey, let me dream. lol

That is also one cool-looking pup! Boomer! Boomer! Boomer!!! 😁

Alright, that's all for now. And a good thing, too... after all these purchases, my poor wallet is probably screaming at me again. Too bad I'll likely make one or two more soon, since Rescue Wheels got its own batch of mini-figurines in mystery boxes, of course. Sadly, Boomer didn't get included in that, else Marshall wouldn't be the only one I'd be tracking down. It's still crazy to see him get what he did though! Man, if only Claw got his own plush doll instead of Sweetie...

So... what's next? I wonder how much longer until we start to see merchandise of Air Rescue? Then again, the USA hasn't even aired Rescue Wheels yet, so no doubt it won't be until next year. Good... that gives my wallet plenty of time to recover. lol

[panlight]

I got a new job and it's not ideal, lol. In honor of that, what job would each of the Cullens absolutely HATE to do? Either because of their powers or because of the personalities?

Alice would work at like a Walmart or Target or something monitoring the fitting rooms. Cheap off the rack fashion, horror!

I feel like Jasper going to high school is already a terrible idea that he would hate, so him teaching high school would also be bad? Surrounded by all those intense teenage Feelings and of course all the blood.

Carlisle, to me, is as well-adjusted as he is because of being a doctor, he feels like he is helping people, that he is putting his vampirism to good use. So a job he would hate would be something just utterly useless. Like some middle tier corporate office job where he is just filling out paperwork all day with no tangible result. Like sure doctors have lots of paperwork too but it's for something, this is just like, expenditure reports or who knows what for some faceless, soulless corporation that is inevitable harming the world.

Edward would probably hate just about anything, lol, mostly because of his gift making it unbearable. But since he hated the 60s and 70s music so much, I feel like he's got to be like, a bartender at some 70s themed bar or something. Judging everyone for drinking and loose morals and also having to listen to "terrible" music.

Rosalie is a mascot. You know one of those big character costumes so no one can see her face. She's getting attention, but getting attention for being this goofy, ugly cartoon character. (This is starting to feel more like less a terrible job and more like 'here is how they are tortured in the Bad Place). No way to maintain her dignity. And she has to see little kids with their parents all the time.

Emmett and Esme are both more of 'make the best of it' types so it's harder to come up with something they truly couldn't just kind of go along with at least to some degree. I guess Emmett having to be serious and quiet would be hard on him. Oh, he's a funeral director. Just counter to his energy in every way (although some of the clients probably find him refreshing).

Esme's on a remote scientific mission in the middle of nowhere, far away from her family for months on end. It's like, Antarctica, so no plants, no art, nothing to build, very few people and they are all dour middle aged scientists who don't need a mom figure. She still tries, though.

[tzigone]

Headcanon reboot - super tech for the masses

So one of the aspects of my headcanon reboot is that it kinds ends - people age and retire, we don't have to keep villains in play (the reformed ones stay reformed) and so on. And one thing I started playing with is that this world doesn't have to stay like our world. I completely understand why it does in the comics, and I do think it a good business decision, but this is just for fun, not money, so I can make characters do logical things.

So, when someone invents a potentially world-changing and fortune-making technology, it can actually be mass-produced, used by ordinary people, and change the world. Instead of being confined to heroes and villains with no proper reason given (because it would make the world our heroes operate in unrecognizable and be a barrier to entry for new readers).

Please do forgive me if I've misremembered the details on how these techs work. Or if they've been given multiple explanations, chime in with others.

Chronologically, the first one I have on my list is Ray Palmer/The Atom's tech (shrinking things or people and with the ability to alter mass while in shrunken state). This would be circa 2001. Originally he was thinking about how, with everything shrunk, farmers could grow more and freight trains transport more. But the tech only worked on him, so he wasn't ready to publish. But later, he did manage to get it work on others...and still never published or put it out in the world. At least, he unshrunk the Hawks. It's been a long time since I read it. Hope I'm not misremembering the details and that wasn't another "it only works this one time" sort of thing.

In this universe, he will. He's still a graduate student, so I guess we know what his thesis is. I'm undecided on whether to make the lens still made from white dwarf star (which makes no sense) or make it regular lens inspired by the idea of a white dwarf star (which also makes no sense, but lends itself to the mass use he was thinking about, since material for the lens would be available). A lens (that he crafted himself, so the precision shouldn't be an issue), a control panel, and an ultraviolet light - doesn't like it should be too expensive to manufacture (though end-user price may still be very high at first depending on supply and demand). I was modeling IP treatment after Yale's for compensation, but I don't really know how universities deal with tech patents like that - sell or license the patent and would licenses be exclusive? Anyway, he'll have a hell of thesis. But the rest of the comments on him are only relevant if the tech goes mainstream. Then he started traveling through phone lines. That has even more massive implications for goods transport (I haven't really put any thought into the agriculture, I admit - just transport). But it's not going to happen overnight. I would expect massive regulatory hurdles. Safety tests (both on goods shrunk and people). And if they use phone travel, there's other safety issues to be addressed. Do they use the same phone network? What about infrastructure improvement? Obviously some countries will move more quickly than others and some will be more likely to respect the patent than others. The mid and long-term effects as the tech actually goes mainstream - takes time for factories to be built or modified but it will happen. I could still see lots of loading and unloading jobs, of course. Eventually expect your Walmart's to have their own and get things shipped to them that way. Businesses like gas stations may still be getting last mile delivery of chips, but the number of truckers should go down a lot, so there's unemployment in that field. Not mention trains and shipping companies and ports. Recession time? Some countries even heavily hit. Job rearrangement from things it's more profitable to outsource now that shipping is so quick and cheap. This could really impact commuting. Many people love cities for the entertainment, etc. But then you have the folks with hour and half commutes from the suburbs. It may not be affordable to the average person to own their own for a long time (so they can dial a phone, shrink, then their desk phone auto-answers and they unshrink and thus have a 30-second commute), but bus-depot like places could allow someone in Lawrence, KS to park their car (pay a parking fee), shrink and transport the location a 5-minute walk from their work in Manhattan instead of having a more expensive home closer by. I find decoupling employment location from living location interesting (and often discussed in regards to remote work), but I'm not sure how much it'd happen. More useful for long trips than short ones, of course. We have to think about security implications (especially if used internationally). Gotta check passports, go through customs, etc. Could someone send a bomb via phone line? This is pretty fantastical tech to start with, but with the ability to not decrease mass, would it still have full explosive power - I really don't know how various bombs work.

Next up is Karen Beecher/Bumblebee in 2003. I am not using her shrinking, as I think it makes to much like Wasp. But from one of the guides, it was said the antennae of her costume were solar panels and that's what allowed her to user her mechanical wings and fly. That kind of solar panel and battery would make massive, massive impacts (I'm assuming it's easy to scale up/down). And quite likely move though regulation way more quickly than Ray's tech. Solar panels and batteries already exist. Now, like so many comic heroes (and villains), she's a genius, but she's still just a teenager (and not a wealthy one) when she builds it, so it should be very affordable to produce (possibly only a couple thousand dollars retail for car-size setup once competition is in place). She was on the Teen Titans with Roy, and Ollie is all for the environment, so Queen will be the first company introduced to her tech, and the first to license it. Non-exclusive licenses all the way (which Ollie is happy with and spreading the news himself, as it suits his personality). The solar panels are great for houses and cars and factories, but the batteries should end up all over the place - cell phones, children's toys, remote controls, etc. It'll take to time to get production chains in place, but she's going to be a billionaire very quickly. Geolpolitical consequnces are again rampant - based on who produces oil, who refines oil, who has the contracts for mining the material, where production factories are, etc.

Flash has some genuisy rogues who reformed (fora while) and they come later. As this universe doesn't have to keep them in play, I'm not flip-flopping them - if they reform, they reform. So I may have Captain Cold and The Trickster in play. The Trickster has anti-grav tech. I'm not sure how much planes are still in play, but it's a thought. Might be moving furniture around. Finally have flying cars (with regulations/mechanical restrictions that people will try to get around)? Now, Cold had freeze gun. A nice safe one that has no negative consequences. Good for home protection, since it doesn't really matter if you accidentally shoot your kid. And could you just have the ambulance arrive, freeze the patient and transport them to a hospital? That would effect EMT jobs. I'm not going to have the gun do some the wackier stuff (like de-aging someone - wow what a tech to to introduce).

[lollystocks]

To Blossom

Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 2: Botanomancy (and a lil dash o technomancy)

Sam tends to her houseplants, her mother tries to connect, and Amity feels the effects of its rip in space-time. Words: 5,087 CW: minor injury, blood, self-injury, possession (mentioned), dissociation, mentions of a firearm

---

Her plants were getting grumpy. Again.

Not that Sam held it against them. As much as she had tried to make her dark, brood-perfect bedroom a comfortable home for the waifs and strays she had picked up from Amity Park’s nurseries and garden centers, (and perhaps a private garden or two), she only had so many hours in the day. The best temperature and humidity control money could buy helped of course, but between school, ghost fights, activism, and deliberately spending as little time as possible in her parents’ house…

Well. The grumpiness was understandable.

But Sam had found a rare, spare, afternoon with no obligations. Her homework was mostly up-to-date (she was refusing to do any of Lancer’s reading until the English department unbanned The Bluest Eye); the protest at Axiom was on pause until Tucker had okay’d her security plans; it was a Sunday so there were no new updates for The Grand Speadsheet; and she had already published two blog updates this week with the next one fully drafted. (“The True Amity Park Horror: A Miniature Surveillance State; or, The Bitches in Cheap Bleach Could Do With Being More Subtle When Spying On The Entire Town, part v”)

The irony of calling out the GIW’s spying operation was not lost on her.

And seeing as ghost attacks didn’t stick to a pre-circulated schedule, there was nothing to do on that front except keep the pager on loud, and get on with one’s day.

So, following an oh-so-wonderful lie-in, Sam was playing her favorite kind of politics: horticulture.

Following certain complaints, Sam had abandoned the concept of a general fertilizer and had bought a whole series - one each for tropicals, leafy, flowering, fruit, and cacti. The succulents would have to just put up with the latter. Windows thrown open, a torn up magazine protecting her dark hardwood flooring, a series of expensive and totally unused mason jars usurped from her mother’s kitchen, and a large jerry can of water sat at the ready, she set to work mixing up some please-just-fucking-grow juice for her many, many children.

Or she would have, had her pager not chosen that moment to scream at her from her window sill. A grating, 8-bit version of Ghostbusters (“the most frighteningly accurate depiction of ghosts in any move ever Sam, it’s iconic.”) that served as their “Fentonworks scanners have picked up a big ol’ signal somewhere, perhaps check it out gang” signal. Louder than the beeping was the profound sense of alarm from her plants. Or so she imagined.

Sam leaped up to silence it before it reminded her parents of her existence, knocking the jerry can over as she went. She ignored the chugging spill, slamming the “dismiss” button on the pager and then scrambling to find her phone among her copious bedsheets. By the time she extracted it, there was already a message:

Fanny Dampton: already on it, boxy’s throwing a tantrum at walmart

That would at least save them some time. Accessing the Fentonworks scan system to pinpoint a location always lost them a few minutes.

Sam typed with one hand, and started donning her boots with the other.

Man Sampson: Woodsborough Park or Elm Rd?

Fanny Dampton: elm

Fucker Toe-ly: moms got the car gonna take me a while to get there on dads bike

Man Sampson: I can swing round to get you, meet me at the end of your road, do NOT forget the extra thermos this time.

Fanny Dampton: i think i got it guys!

Fucker Toe-ly: bestie how are you typing and fighting

Fucker Toe-ly: i didnt forget it how dare

Fucker Toe-ly: i was giving it a premeditated and intentional vacation in my sock drawer

Fucker Toe-ly: she was tired

Fanny Dampton: i think i got it guys

Man Sampson: No that’s a good question, how are you typing and fighting?

Fanny Dampton: im not

Man Sampson: So when you say “you got it”??

Fanny Dampton: i ran off to GG and by the time i got back jazz had thermosed boxy. i ‘stole’ it from her so mom and dad couldn’t take boxy for testing. hid it in my leg, will get it out later.

Fucker Toe-ly: bestie im still not on bord with you using random body parts as storage it cant be good for a growing boy its also nasty as hell and also what about ectocontamination from the thermos

Man Sampson: I’m not sure Danny needs to worry about ectocontamination, Tuck.

Man Sampson: It’s also so on brand for you to be able to perfectly spell .“ectocontamination” but not “board”.

Fucker Toe-ly: what are we if not our brands? - francis bacon, probably

Fanny Dampton: look it’s all good guys, just need to focus on the hard part now - the family walmart shop

Fucker Toe-ly: god gives his hardest battles to his deadest soldiers

Fucker Toe-ly: what yall buying

Fanny Dampton: mom wants a gun

Man Sampson: Jesus Christ.

Fucker Toe-ly: aaaaaaaahahahahahahahah

Sam flopped back onto her bed, giving herself a minute - the come-down from “ghost attack mode” would take a sec, even though the problem had solved itself in rather nicely.

Sam nearly cried out when the handle of her bedroom door rattled.

A muffled voice forced its way through. “Sweetie? What have we said about locking your door?”

Sam sat up, slowly. Took a breath, and made her way over. “I said I’d stop re-installing the lock when you learn how knocking works.”

“Samantha Manson you wi-”

Her mother’s impending monologue on respect, rules and roofs was interrupted with a wide open door and a dead expression. “Yes, Mrs Manson?”

Her mom blinked, swallowing her previous tirade. It looked like it tasted sour. “Sweetie, I know it’s a joke, but your dad and I have asked you multiple times to drop the “Mrs and Mr Manson” thing. It’s-”

“A pointed nod to the irony of your formal standards of familial respect, yeah.”

“Samantha, can we please not do this?”

How rich. “Mom, it might help if you tried to actually-”

“-’understand why you do this rather than seek to use the blunt instrument of parental authority to control you’, or something, right?”

Sam blinked. Her mom could barely hide her smirk.

“We do listen.”

Sam kept her face blank and said nothing. Pointing out the obvious would do nothing but lead to yet another argument in a doorway, ripe for door-slamming and possibly injured fingers. These things always happened in doorways.

Breathe, Sam. Your silence will say enough. 

Her mom broke eye contact first, glancing into the room, eyes widening the slightest bit at the soaked magazine pages on the floor.

“Oh Samantha, you really need to take more care in here. The floorboards…”

“It’s just water, Mom, and the paper got most of it.” Her heart rate was ramping up again. Her hands were flailing. “It’s fine, and you know what, why would you assume I wasn’t being careful? Like why is carelessness and thoughtlessness your first thought? I’ve clearly set up precautions against filtered water you can literally see that, but you couldn’t consider that maybe it was you trying to barge in here that could have startled-”

“-I assume a lack of care because I know you Sam, I’m your mother, and as much as I love you even you must admit you’re prone to impulse, undue planning, you take your possessions for granted as you know your dad and I will simply replace them for you at the dro-”

“-What did you want, Mom?”

This time it was her mother who prolonged the silence, maintaining eye contact, breath firmly controlled. Sam made a note of it, but would sooner die than admit who she had learnt her most effective habits from.

“What I wanted, Samantha, was to invite you down to the garden to do some gardening. Together.”

Sam rolled her eyes.

“Why is that such a shock to you, Sam? I’m elated you’ve taken to botany so well. God knows I tried to get you into it as a girl, not that flowers or weeding held any sway over you. But now you’re entering a new phase of your womanhood, you’re developing a sense of aesthetic taste, domestic pride, a new sense of responsibility, shedding your teenage fascination with the gloomy and macabre-”

“Literally what gives you that impression? I’ve got 3 animal skulls right there on my shelf Mom-”

“-Well you’re not wearing that awful makeup-”

“-Because it’s a Sunday and I only woke up an hour ago! Don’t tell me we’re two minutes into our first interpersonal interaction of the weekend and ‘cause I’ve not put my eyeliner on yet you think I’m, what, I’m ‘shedding the goth’-”

“-You are developing more refined tastes Samantha and I don’t see why you would deny that!”

It was taking all her willpower not to scream. She felt that if she turned around now, every plant in the jungle of her room would be giving her a menacing thumbs up. Tear her a new one! 

“Oh my god Mom it’s just a bit witchier! Subcultures have fashion cycles too! Like yeah I’ve put my old band posters into storage and bought an oil painting at that auction we-”

Sam stopped. Breathed. Why did every conversion with her mom get so derailed?

Well because her mom found ways to sneak insults into every conversation, that’s why. Because she could do that. When Sam tried, it got her grounded.

It also tended to derail their conversations even further.

There were two ways to deal with Mom when she was like this. Way one, give her what she wants - a fight. Rise to the bait, throw some back, speak her truth, let the conversation switch between radically different topics at a whim.

Way two was de-escalation, and was far harder. It required a metric fucktonne of self-control, but mostly, just three ingredients.

Ingredient one: Stay On Track.

“Thanks for the offer Mom, but I’ll stick to my bedroom plants, thanks.”

“And while they’re looking lovely - besides that weeping fig of course - we are fortunate enough to have plenty of garden space, where plants can actually thrive. Are you unappreciative of that privilege?”

Ingredient Two: Don’t acknowledge insults that have nothing to do with the topic.

“I just want to focus on my bedroom, Mom. I don’t like the garden that much, you know that.” Not totally the truth - the greenhouse was pretty great. Mostly because it was firmly her territory. The perfect lawn and perfect flower beds were her mother’s.

Mom sighed, and set her shoulders. She was gearing up to say something. Something hurtful, no doubt. Sam braced, and prepared for Ingredient Three - when it gets really bad, disengage entirely. Shut the door. It wasn’t running.

Her mom said, “Well, we can do something about that. What would you change about the garden?”

Sam blinked.

And stalled.

“Samantha?” A nervous laugh. “Anyone in there?”

Sam frowned. “Um. Sorry?”

“You don’t like the garden. That’s a little hurtful as I put so much effort into it, and I think it’s rather beautiful, but I want you to like it too. So. What should we change?”

This was entirely new. Sam had no plan for this, whatever it was.

“Is it that it’s too “neat”? You’re “rewilding” attempts in the greenhouse are far from what I can deal with in the garden, and your father only convinced me to allow it was the greenhouse is mostly out of sight, but perhaps we-”

“Are you being serious?”, asked Sam. It wasn’t said with spite, or even incredulity. Just suspicion. Maybe even hope.

Her mom carefully folded her hands in front of her. She’d understood perfectly. “Dead serious, Sam. I- I want us to share something. We’ve never had something we could do together, except maybe swimming when you were little (but then you wanted to stop), and now that you have this wonderful new hobby, and it’s something I like too! So even if it means ceding some ground, if it means being able to spend some time with you that we both enjoy, even if it’s not really my company your enjoying but I get to see you enjoying yourself with me, then that woul-”

“It’s too much of a monoculture.” interrupted Sam, who had taken a small, defensive step back into her room.

“I’m sorry?”

“The lawn. It’s not just “too neat”, or “too perfect.” Like yeah I think it looks ugl- no, actually, it’s not that, it’s like it genuinely makes me uncomfortable. Those perfect lawn stripes are, they’re like this symbol of America but only in this really gross, plastic-and-fructose-syrup way, you know?”

Her Mom hesitated. She began to speak, but Sam barrelled onwards.

“And it’s not just how it looks, ‘cause like, turfgrass lawns are just such an issue. Like you have to put so much effort into keeping it up because it’s an invasive species and not meant to grow in the US so you have to keep it going with just so much fertilizer and even paint which runs off into rivers and causes eutrophication but then you also have to douse it in pesticide which kills of pollinators and you have to aggressively mow it with that massive fuel-guzzler-”

“Okay you hate my lawn, but you can’t ask me to lose the whole lawn!”

“Why not? We don’t use it for anything - you entertain on the patio, we don’t use it for games or even walking, it’s just there!”

“I won’t have our beautiful land just be mud-”

“Mom you asked for my opinion!”

Her mom blinked, and, for some reason, shut up.

“You can’t do that you can’t come to me with a sob story about bonding and ask me something point blank and get angry at my response without letting me finish the goddamn thought.”

Her mom opened her mouth, closed it, and gestured with her hand. Please, finish the goddamn thought. She folded her hands in front of her again.

Sam nodded. “Thank you. Look I can send you articles, there are alternatives, if you want to do that and if you want to take my mere suggestion seriously. Like, moss, or clover, or wildflowers. Or maybe even do something with all the space? You’ve got the planters crammed up against the patio. You could fill the space with more planters and have paths fill that space if you wanted to do something really cool. And make habitats for the pollinators. Like the botanical gardens.” 

Her mother’s eyes registered that. Their trip together for her thirteenth birthday had been her mom’s suggestion and she hadn’t given Sam much of a choice. Sam had reluctantly adored it all the same.

The small succulent from that trip had stayed on her desk ever since. Alone, until earlier that year. When it suddenly gained a whole host of siblings.

Time to disengage.

“Look Mom, I’ve got to finish this. Mopping up the water. I’ll send you those articles if you’d like, though.’

Her mom straightened, smiled with lots of teeth. “Of course, Samantha. I’ll read them.”

Sam nodded, and went to close her bedroom door. Her mom gently stopped her. “I’ll be in the garden, if you need me.”

A thin smile. “Sure thing, Mom.” She closed the door with a soft click.

Sam liked to imagine the plants were angry on her behalf. They’d seen the whole thing, and obviously they’d be on her side. 

Sam grabbed a dirty t-shirt from her laundry basket and set to mopping up the remaining water. As she worked, she counted all 38 plants her in room and noted their locations, light levels, water levels, obsessively-

God, she just couldn’t make her mom understand. That it wasn’t about looks and aesthetics and beauty, it was about the- the- the inherent sanctity of plant life, the codependent relationship between flora and fauna, the exchange of air and breath, the nutrient cycles, that her own

daughter you are mine the daughter of green the daughter of ultraviolet the queen of roots uncountable through the ground the city the planet

you are ruler you are monarch the flowers the leaves the vines these are your children these are your subjects these are your responsibility

you understand child you understand my daughter that humanity is infection is gnats is too-much-water is invasive grass it must be purged this pest

is yours to feed on to take their nutrients they are flies in the trap you will do my bidding my sweet greendaughter they will do yours you are chlorophyll you are ectoplasm shed your meat dissolve the juices of your flesh you-

…

Sam gasped and clutched her hand. She had somehow managed to find a sharp-enough pencil with which to stab her palm. She looked up, brain catching up to the fact that she had managed to drag herself to her desk, even amid the episode.

That was good. New, but good. Her body was able to act to pull her out, now. Even if she didn’t remember it.

Just another example of feeling eerily disconnected from her flesh body.

She fell into her office chair, and her head fell into her hands. She breathed. Always fucking breathing, like it’s a chore. Fucking oxygen. It never felt quite right, these days.

She needed to center herself. She knew the steps. Couldn’t remember the fucking steps. They were in the notes app on her phone. Where was her phone?

On the ground, by the jerry can and the mason jars and the magazine pages. Okay. Easy.

She sat up, walked, then half crawled to the same spot on the floor. Crossed her legs, sat upright, faced the desk, keeping the pencil in sight. Flexed her injured hand, and reached out for her phone.

She found the list quickly enough - she’d put the shortcut on her homepage.

5 See

Sam spoke aloud to the room. “I can see my phone; my desk; the window with the tree in full bloom. The raccoon skull on the windowsill. And the jerry can, it’s still got a bit of water in it.”

She shuddered a breath out. Unlocked her phone again and read the next line.

4 Touch

Sam closed her eyes and concentrated. “I feel the small stab wound from the pencil in my left hand. It fucking hurts. I feel that my right leg is a bit damp from sitting on the floor. It’s cold. I feel my boots on my feet, because I never took them off. I feel my pajamas on my skin.”

A longer breath in, and one out. She carried on, no longer needing the list.

“I hear the air conditioning, even though it’s not very hot. I hear the odd car on the road. I-”. Sam hesitated. How honest are you meant to be during these things? “I still hear the echoes of the voice. I hear words like ‘daughter’ and ‘queen’ and ‘flesh’ and ‘green’. But not with my actual ears. It’s a metaphor, kinda.”

“I can smell the lemongrass candle I’m burning. I can’t think of a second smell. Maybe my own body odor? I haven’t showered yet.”

“And I can taste my own ass-mouth, as I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Sam sighed, and opened her eyes. A bird chirped from the tree. She furrowed her brows and stared.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier buddy? I had to admit I heard his voice instead, you tardy bastard.”

The bird probably didn’t laugh. But it sure sounded like it.

Before she could forget, she opened the Grand Spreadsheet on her phone, and went to the “SAM” tab. She logged the time, with the note “short episode. Mild self injury broke it, no memory of that bit.” and hit ENTER.

Five seconds later, her phone rang - the screen flashed the caller ID “circuits mcgee 🌱 🤓✌🏾🧑🏾‍💻🍑”

He started talking the moment she accepted. “Ohmygod Sam are you okay??”

“I’m calm enough to have filled in the spreadsheet so let’s say yeah.”

“FUCK. You were doing so well, it’s been weeks, thought we���d left ‘em behind for good. What’s the injury?”

“Stabbed my palm with a pencil. Not very hard, I don’t think? There’s a bit of blood but it stopped already.” Sam opened her hand to inspect the little puncture. A small spec of gray left by the pencil and some dried blood, and it stung to hell, but she had had far worse.

“Yeah but Sam, you know as well as I do that around here, an injury healing fast doesn’t necessarily mean ‘all is well’.”

He had a point, there. “You’re right, but I’m being honest actually, it really is tiny. I can send a pic if you want confirmation I’m not just bei-”

“Don’t you fucking dare send me a picture of your wound Samantha Manson.”

Sam let out an honest-to-god giggle.

The line beeped.

“That’s Danny, wanna-?”

“Yeah add him in.” said Sam, as the texture of the background noise changed with the opening of a new line.

“Oh my god, Sam are you okay?”

“She’s good man, sounds like a small one.”

“They’ve gone down in severity and frequency, I honestly think we’re coming to a close on that.”

Danny’s voice again. “I know you don’t like talking about it over the phone, want us to swing by for a debrief?”

“Honestly there isn’t much to it that isn’t what I’ve covered before. I’m his daughter-queen again, we love plants, we’re eco-fascists, yada yada.”

“It’s not the info that’s important Sam, it’s you saying it.”

Sam nodded, before remembering they couldn’t see her. “Good point. Even so, a full debrief feels unimportant. I can just…” Sam hesitated, then completed the thought. “I can just tell my plants.”

A short, but uncomfortable silence over the phone. She had hoped that comment would land better.

Tucker spoke first. “So no change on that front?”

Sam reached out a hand above the pothos hanging near her desk, and with a slender finger, beckoned it upwards. It rolled, like it was stretching itself awake, and a leafy vine reached up to her fingers. Curling around it, not dissimilar to a cat.

mother, she imagined it crooning.

Her thumb gently stroked a leaf. “No change on that front. If anything…”

“It’s getting stronger, isn't it.” asked Tucker.

Sam didn’t want to answer that. But Tucker’s correct conclusion was unnerving. “Was that a lucky guess, or…”

“...It might be the same for me.” He said, in a small voice.

“For fuck’s sake guys, there’s a tab on The Spreadsheet for this! Why is this the first I’m hearing that you’re both getting… more?”

“Well sorry Dr Fenton-”

“Don’t call me that-”

“-but what with updating it with all the spying I’ve been doing on half of fucking Caspar High-”

“Tucker tracking your symptoms is more important than tracking Dash’s-”

“Guysguysguys, let’s all pipe down, kay?”

The conversation went quiet, again. They all took a moment, planning their words.

Sam broke the silence. “I’ll go first, if that’s okay?”

Their noises of assent came through simultaneously.

“Okay so point one: Danny, you’re probably right about Tucker and I not being totally on it with documenting our developments.” Sam twirled around in her office chair, eyes darting about her room. “I can only speak for myself, but it’s mostly just that not much has changed? Or more that it’s changing gradually? Like I have an episode, I can log that. But ‘I think I’ve got a bit more control over my houseplants this week than last week, and a tree might have tried to talk to me yesterday’ feels like an unimportant update. I dunno. What about you, Tuck?”

There was an awkward silence. Some shuffling. Neither Sam nor Danny stepped in.

It was something of a habit amongst them. Thinking space didn’t always need to be filled with noise, especially when it was obviously someone’s turn to talk.

Eventually, “Ah man. It’s less that, more like, I guess you’d call it denial? Like… okay, skipping a bunch of keystrokes when hacking the GIW and using your brain instead is something I can probably brush under the carpet until I put it into words in The Spreadsheet which is either ironic or fitting I guess.”

That was new. Tucker had been developing… some sort of connection to his networks and cybernetics. At least enough to have rare insight into how those systems functioned, and sometimes being able to intuit novel solutions, or just know when something would bug. And one time, he may have granted his phone partial sentience. But a direct input into his code? New.

“Well that, and, agh. Right okay, full cards on the table. Sometimes, I go to put something about myself in The Spreadsheet, and I get this itching feeling. One high up in my chest that’s too deep to scratch. Not sure what to make of it, but I don’t like it. So I avoid triggering it, okay. Probably just anxiety.”

Another silence. Sam froze.

Danny asked, “A kinda itch that’s like, ‘stop that right there’?”

“Well yeah.”

Sam’s heart rate spiked, all the plants on her desk standing to attention. “Wait, you get that too?”

“Not you too, Sam.” came Danny’s voice. He sounded small, defeated.

“Okay this wasn’t me covering anything up, I’d just never like, consciously thought of it like that before?”

“Okay, you both get an itch that makes you not want to do something - in your case Tucker, it’s when you’re like, compromising your own security?”

“Yeah. Or like, my privacy, or data.”

“Sam?”

“Well it doesn’t come up very often? Can’t even think of a time, just that what Tucker said rings a bell?”

The sound from Danny’s line had changed. He must have found somewhere away from the shopping crowds.

“Okay. Tuck, what kind of feeling do you get when you, I dunno, patch in a new security protocol to The Spreadsheet?”

“Well I feel satisfied, obviously.”

“Yeah but is it a different kind of satisfaction to like, doing well on a test? Is it specific to when you’re hacking something?”

Sam could hear Tucker processing that. She had to process it too.

Tucker eventually managed an eloquent “Fuck.”

“Is it like, like a slight vibration? Feels like a warm cat purring on your chest?”

“Yes, Sam, that is exactly what Obsession feels like.”

“Shit.”

“Shit.”

“Shit.”

“Well I guess we can stop speculating that the denizens of Amity Park are slowly developing ghostly traits, if Sam and I are developing Obsessions.”

Because that was the crux of the whole matter.

For the last year, the three of them had been doggedly tracking the changes in the population of their little town. People acting just a bit stranger, a bit more compulsive. Heart rates and breath rates decreasing. No obvious reactions to blatant ectocontamination in the cafeteria food.

Voices just a bit more distorted over the radio, or tv. Heaters turned down, AC turned up. Tucker had even set up a bot to analyze the blinking rate at Caspar High and some local offices to compare with similar places elsewhere in the state. Unsurprisingly, the citizens of Amity Park didn’t feel the need to blink as much.

Shrugging off the voices in the cornfields, the apparitions in the woods, the shivers down your back when you look at a cemetery sideways. These adjustments had come quickly to the population due to their sheer frequency - The Horrors only hold sway when they surprise you. But the blatant unease the town residents gave to outsiders wasn’t just shrugged off amongst themselves - it was firmly, blatantly, ignored.

“No but you guys are special cases, you both had prolonged, individual overshadowings by powerful ghosts and your obsessions are related to them. Most of the town have either been mass-influenced, or just had quick stints as meatsuits. Like we’ve known for a while something’s happening but it feels like it’s speeding up for some people - Paulina’s never been this concerned with being pretty, or Wes with being up in everyone’s business. Then there’s the school building itself which is a whole ‘nother-”

Sam cut in. “Okay okay, we definitely need a big meeting to talk this through. Today?”

“Probably not, I’ve got mom’s actual normal gun to deal with…”

“I found a weakness in our backdoor to the Mayor’s Office’s security and it’s got me paranoid, I gotta patch it before something happens…”

“Okay, tomorrow after school? Yours, Tuck?”

“Sure thing, I’ve got the car tomorrow too. I’ll pick you up on the way in, Sam.”

Sam scribbled the reminder on a note. “It’s a date, gang. I’ll try and put together like, a report, I guess.”

Danny said, “I’ll catch up with you guys on the school steps tomorrow. Stay sa- Mom Jesus Christ that’s not how you- guys seeyousoon.” and his line went dead.

“Talk soon, Sam!”

“Talk soon, Tucker.” She hit the red phone icon.

The pothos, without encouragement, had continued to climb into and around Sam’s hand, gently holding a leaf against the pencil wound. The rest was clamped tightly around her wrist and forearm. Too tightly. 

With the feeling of being watched, Sam turned her head, glancing around the rest of her bedroom. Every plant had shifted slightly, reaching for her, leaves and stalks fighting gravity to be closer to her. 

mother, she imagined, again.

She extracted her hand, and walked briskly to the door. She strode quickly down the bright hallway, and down the grand staircase, grabbing her father’s set of keys from the hallway bowl. Reaching the front door with the full intention to shut herself in the plantless, steel, diesel and chrome deathtrap that was her father’s car and just drive, she stopped with the door handle in her hand.

A slight tickle filled her chest. An itch.

She turned to look through to the kitchen, and could see her mother in the garden beyond. Her usual hairspray-hard hair had rare flyaways, and a streak of mud marred her perfect neutral makeup. She knelt by a flowerbed, a tray of poppy seedlings on a paving stone beside her. Babies that Sam didn’t know yet. Her mother gently teased aside the soil with her trowel, placing each seedling bundle with care.

Sam’s chest warmed as she watched her mother. It hummed. She let go of the door handle, set her shoulders, and went to join her mother in the garden.

[senjuushi]

You can choose whichever Antiques you'd like for this one!

Taking them to a store (Walmart style or a department store with a bit of everything), giving them a hundred dollars, and telling them that they can buy whatever they like within that price limit.

Who takes advantage of it and what do they buy?

Enfield — He happily buys food, medical supplies, and other necessities. Although he can't see it as anything other than a normal supply errand, he's at least content to find useful things to buy for both of you. And to try to show how competent and helpful he is.

Snider — He'll buy anything that he thinks can be used as a weapon, and is openly irritated about the lack of actual military supplies in the department store. He's also trying to make a "point" about why the whole idea is stupid, so his choices are intended to piss you off.

George — His purchases are mostly food (will you cook burgers for him???), and he doesn't have the slightest second thought about spending the full amount. However, there's at least one surprisingly sweet gift for you mixed in with the junk food and impulse buys.

Kentucky — He mostly gets various craft and DIY supplies, fully intending to make gifts for you later. There might be an accessory for himself included too, though— one that he asks your opinion about before buying it, just to make sure Master likes his style.

Pennsylvania — He feels kind of bad about spending your money (he really doesn't need to be spoiled...), so he tries to buy things that will be useful to both of you. It's mostly practical items and things he knows you like, and he spends far under the full amount given.

Charleville — He's both deeply insecure about being too "high-maintenance" and unsure of what he should want, in the first place, so his purchases end up being little more than a piece of flattering clothing and some sweet wine. He gives most of the money back.

Chassepot — The main thing he gets is a showy, "romantic" gift for you, but if you pay close attention, you'll notice him smuggling a couple of bags full of cheap alcohol (an emergency emotional control measure) past you when he thinks you aren't looking.

Tabatiere — All he gets are cigarettes and some nice things to cook with, like new utensils or food he knows you like. He's deeply uncomfortable with the amount of money you gave him, so he's trying to make sure you get something out of this too.

Dreyse — A mixture of whatever practical supplies he needs (such as non-perishable food or exercise equipment) and Herme management tools, such as a belt that takes some coordination to remove. He'll also give you a good portion of the money back, in the end.

Jitte — His main purchase is nice sake for the two of you to share! Depending on what's available, he might also get Japanese candy, a little potted plant, or an interesting novel, but he's thanking you profusely for being so nice to him, regardless. Master is so kind!

Karl — He gets a fair amount of nice chocolate, and that's it. The rest of the money goes back to you. It's partially a dignity thing and partially just that he doesn't want to look needy, but he can't make himself spend very much. A small treat is plenty, really.

Lorenz — There's not much in a department store that interests him, so his selection ends up being an eclectic selection of objects that he intends to experiment with somehow. He'd also get a book or two if there's anything available that seems worth his intellect.

Cutlery — He spends the full amount, and it's all food. Specifically, non-perishable food that he can hide in his room and hold onto for the next few months. He tries not to let you see exactly what he's getting, and is concerningly protective over the bags when you leave.

[tarisilmarwen]

I don’t know....

“They are a terrible enemy, Eli,” Vah’nya said. “Your Empire—your former Empire—forces its will on its slaves through soldiers and weapons and warships. But the Grysks…three can command a nation. A hundred can rule an entire world. Billions of beings, their hearts and souls broken, ready to fight and die at the order of a handful of aliens. No resistance, no revolt, no dissent, no hope.”

That seems powerful (and scary) to me — I always saw this as potentially implying the Grysk leadership to be Force sensitives, literally taking the will of their soldiers. Giving us the same ‘Force-less’ Vong as soldiers, but with a purpose (for now).

So here's the main thrust of my issue with the Grysk:

They are talked up an awful lot more than they actually follow up.

Characters are always telling us about how much of a threat the Grysk are, about things they can supposedly do, but it never actually really gets demonstrated within the text.

That quote from Vah'nya, about the Grysks' supposed fearsome mind control abilities? Yeah, they don't actually have any, they farm that task out to their telepathic client species the Agbui, who have to physically touch another being in order to read them, which means they can't break or turn a person unless they physically capture them. I've already talked about how tedious that would make any kind of concerted galactic conquest.

What the Grysk do far more often than have their lackeys mindwash prisoners (from what I can gather in the new Thrawn books at least) is actually sow political dissent, manipulate a few key government players, blackmail a culture by threatening what's important to them, and basically do a lot of internal sabotage before they even begin to test warships against any new military force. Only one actual Grysk commander ever gets into a real space battle in the course of six new Thrawn books and predictably since he's up against Thrawn he gets outmaneuvered soundly.

A lot of the Grysks' client species also seem to have been convinced and bribed rather than conquered and brainwashed/mind-controlled. So while Vah'nya's speech is certainly frightening-sounding, it's not backed up by anything the Grysk actually do.

And Vah'nya's not the only character to do this, either, Thrawn tends to talk up the Grysk A LOT when he's trying to convince someone that they're a threat to take seriously. He tells Vader the Grysk are said to have "spacecraft so numerous they blot out the stars" and claims that they're "terrifying warriors, overwhelming their opponents by sheer numbers and ferocity" mostly to convince Vader to help him go rescue the Chiss skywalkers and, you know, not go tattle on him to Palpatine about his maybe conflicting loyalties.

But the Grysk have failed to demonstrate that they employ a tactic of "overwhelming through numbers and ferocity" and if they did have a giant fleet as big as Thrawn claims... where the hell is it? Why haven't the Grysk used it at all?

The claim that they are some kind of overpowering attacking mind-controlling force simply has no actual teeth in the narrative. Zahn has not convinced me they are anything more than a local threat to the Chiss, certainly nothing capable of conquering a territory as large as the GFFA.

Now you compare them to the Yuuzhan Vong, who not only had the numbers and warrior training and ferocity and fanaticism and effective brainwashing and bizarre unknown organic technology and whose first official act against the galaxy was to pull a freaking moon out of orbit and crash it into a planet and the Grysk just seem like such a poor man's Walmart bargain bin cheap replacement.

They're not enough of a threat to the New Republic to justify any kind of alliance with either the Chiss Ascendancy in general or Thrawn in particular, I'm sorry, I will die on this hill.

[starkissedblade]

💸💸💸💸💸

this is me just talking abt money and random stuff veeerrryy boring but i bought a pair of shoes a couple months ago for $200 and i have only wore them once i just stare at them and think about my bad spending decisions and i know i will start wearing them soon because they’re the only platform shoes i have but they’re also the most expensive shoes ive ever worn & i just die a little inside i need to get over it tho but i also thought of getting new walking shoes since ive had these ones for 5 yrs now (tbh i think the 200$ shoes r the only ones ive bought 4 myself new like all my shoes which is like only my everyday walking shoes, a pair of docs from hs, & a pair of flip flops i dont have many shoes & all were bought for me by someone else like yrs ago) and my feet r starting to get sore wearing them everyday but i think i might just buy new soles instead like these shoes still have traction.. cuz i need to buy a hair dryer and diffuser cup thing soon because im tired of air drying my hair and i want to make my wavy/slightly curly hair look presentable on the regular and not just occasionally and i need to spend money on that instead!!! but also will i do that??? i just put it off lmao it will probably be months before i actually buy something for that why does everything cost moneyyyy i feel like every day im making bad money decisions but i haven’t been That bad like 9/10 i use the stuff that i buy all the way. im physically stopping myself rn from dropping 40 something on this thing that a lot of ppl say really actually helps their cystic acne which ive had constant problems w. but i cant just do that. its 40!!!! instead i need to buy travel liquid containers that are smaller than 3 oz online cuz they usually only have big ones at walmart and i don’t need them to be That big i never do anything beyond a carry on because checked baggage is Expensive and it stresses me out on top of the expensiveness Anyway u can only have like a sandwich baggy sized thing w liquids in a carry on which is sooo annoying 😒 anyway there’s like $100 worth of stuff this yr that ive got that ive actually Really regretted like at the end of the day the new shoes r worth it for me because i’ll wear them until they break. i get so stressed over not using more than a third of the alcohol based mouthwash i got in feb because it burnt my mouth too much i get stressed over the cerave gentle cleanser i got but then it’s not what i need liked i needed the salacylic acid one instead so now that one just stares at me in its largely unused glory like i worry tooooo much but it’s also kind of good worrying because it keeps me in check cuz it makes me quadruple check if i really need something… but i do usually keep my impulse spending to the thrift which is usually a good thing. i bought a cool hat a couple days ago for a couple bucks but my head is too big :(( i need to look for a place that’ll give it away for free im done w giving stuff to goodwill or other places i just want ppl to be able to get clothes w out paying for it i hope that theres something like that around here. anyway i need to buy a really small point pen tomorrow to do this art thing for Father’s Day cuz my smallest point pen went dry yrs ago and this is the first time im picking up doing something like this in yrs like it’s for Father’s Day tho so i feel like it’s justified. and then i’ll need to get T in the next month 🚬 which has been 140 recently cuz i my state doesn’t cover it in insurance. at least insurance covers blood draws and my doctor doesn’t charge for messaging online abt stuff, so. and at least medicaid in my state covers some dental because ihave that appointment next month. and then ill be paying close to $200 for a flight ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh at least its not more than that ig. at least cheap allegiant flights r a thing . im so lucky in so many ways financially because of my mom step dad being so nice to me basically buying a car 4 me at 18 and letting me live w them rent free etc like idk how i got here i am still not used to it really i feel like its gonna be

pulled out from underneath me soon or something

[petalsplayplace]

I’m sorry you had an accident! I hope your anxiety wasn’t too high! Maybe you can look into cloth backed pull ups or diapers? Tbh I’ve been wearing the Walmart brand diapers lately (I know, am I really ABDL?! But I wanted to try them because they’re cheap.) and they’re working for me! They’re thin, and noiseless! So very discreet! They’re the stretchy side kind. So what I did the other day was put the tabs in place (Velcro) and then slide it on like a pull up. I actually had a rather big urgent pee accident and it didn’t leak!

I'm gonna look into pull-ups!!! It wasn't a huge accident so pull-ups should be perfect to help!!! At least for days I do big workouts cause big workouts make my bladder too tired to hold well...

[actual-lea]

psst bestie i want to start biking to the grocery store for fun and profit but i know less than nothing about bikes, do u have any recommendations for what kind of bike/helmet/accessories i should get or any other biking advice ??? thank u love u xoxo

I am grabbing you gently by the face and pulling you into my arms

Thank you for asking me about literally anything related to bikes

You've come to the right place, sort of - this is all just my own personal thoughts/opinions and you can probably find plenty of actual good (non super rambly) advice on reddit/youtube, but!

If you're wanting a bike for just going to the store, I would recommend looking for one that's labelled as a "city" or "hybrid" bike - these are pretty much made for commuting, they generally have regular ol' flat handlebars (rather than the fancy drop bars you see on fancy road bikes) and wider tires than a road bike, and also they're designed to have a more upright riding position (read: comfortable) so you're not leaning over the bars like some sort of aero racer guy in lycra. The wider tires also make the ride more comfortable, and some bikes have suspension on the front, which just means there's basically a shock absorber - depending on how gnarly the sidewalks/roads you're planning to ride on are, that can make a big difference in comfort also (and mayhaps keep groceries from bouncing around too much), but I definitely wouldn't say it's necessary. (The bike I've been riding on for three years, lovingly named Hot Topic, doesn't have any suspension and the only time I really miss it is when I roll over a particularly terrible pothole.) A lot of city bikes also come with fenders/mudguards (or whatever you want to call them - they're the things that keep your tires from splashing mud and water up into your face and/or butt) already included, which is nice if it's rained recently and you have to ride through any puddles.

They sometimes also come with racks also (or at the very least they generally have the mounts for racks included - if you're buying from a bike store they can absolutely install it for you), which you could use for bags/baskets/whatever for handy grocery carrying capabilities - if you're getting more than a few groceries at a time I would definitely think about investing in a rear rack and like a cargo basket thing of some sort to use with it as opposed to putting everything in a front basket, just because putting a lot of weight on the front can affect your center of gravity and make it a bit harder to steer/balance (ask me how I know). Alternatively a backpack can work just fine for transporting Stuff, but having something heavy on your back will make you sweaty and will kind of suck after a short while.

HOWEVER if you're doing the really budget option of spending like a hundred bucks on a bike at Walmart (which is a great option if you don't want to invest a ton in a bike that you aren't going to use a whole lot) then pretty much anything they have should work just fine. Last time I checked I think even they have city/hybrid bikes there as well? But if not, I would probably say just find a nice cheap mountain bike or "cruiser" bike, preferably one with the smoothest tires you can find that aren't super fat and preferably one with a nice comfy seat.

I don't really have any insight regarding helmets - I'm on my second helmet (only because I think you're supposed to replace them every few years) ever since getting "serious" about biking, and both of them have just been run of the mill $30 Schwinn helmets off the shelf at Walmart, and I've never had any problems with them. I think I actually looked up a list of the "best" (safest) helmets once and those were definitely on there as a good budget option, so like. As long as it's a helmet and it's on your head, you're probably good to go. (just make sure it fits properly - there's a little knob thing on the back that you can twist to adjust how tight it is, and make sure the strap is nice and snug under your chin also, you don't want it to fall off if you do ever happen to fall on your head)

The only other accessories I would recommend as strictly necessary would be lights (especially a taillight, ESPECIALLY if you will be doing any riding on the road or at crosswalks where it's really important for cars to see you), and a good lock. For that, I would say maybe don't go for the absolute cheapest option you can find, only because I had a bike stolen before and they cut through the cheap little cable lock I had like it was nothing lmao. (RIP $90 Walmart mountain bike, you were truly too good for this world.) ALSO if your grocery store doesn't have bike racks to lock it to (mine definitely don't) a good option can be to lock it to one of the cart return railing thingies instead, though obv I would recommend using one that's sorta farther out in the parking lot and not near a whole bunch of cars.

On the subject of lights, yeah 1000% get a taillight (you can get a set with front and back lights at Walmart for like ten bucks or something - the front one wraps around the handlebars and the rear one usually goes on the seat post, underneath the seat) and just have it on and flashing anytime you're on the bike, even in the daytime, if there is even the slightest chance that cars being able to see you is important. (Front light is also good, though I usually don't really use mine much unless it's actually getting dark or raining or something.)

If you're going to be riding on sidewalks or other places where pedestrians are present, it might not be a bad idea to also get a bell. The etiquette for trails/hike and bike paths/whatever is to give an audible signal before you pass someone, especially if you're on a bike and passing someone who's walking, to let them know you're there so they don't cross into your path and get run over. The usual thing is to call out "on your left" (because you should stay to the right and pass on the left if you're in the U.S. - I assume it's the opposite in places where you drive on the left instead) as you approach, with a couple seconds lead time to make sure they hear you/aren't startled by your presence and try to move TO the left instead. I do not have a very loud voice, and feel like I'm yelling when I do that, so I got a nice loud bell that I chime before going around people instead (YMMV on which is more comfortable - I feel kinda rude dinging a bell at people too sometimes, but it's definitely more rude (and dangerous) to just make no noise at all and hope they don't swerve to the side suddenly, so yeah).

You'll probably also want a little air pump to keep your tires inflated (the tires have little writing on the side to tell you what PSI/bar/whatever they should be inflated to) - again, you can get little kits at Walmart/Target/wherever that just come with lights and bell and pump already altogether so don't feel like you need to spend a ton on any of this stuff.

OH AND SUNGLASSES, I would recommend just getting like some dollar store sunglasses if you don't already have some that you can wear, not just for keeping the sun out of your eyes but also to protect your eyes from dust and bugs and stuff. Do not underestimate how much it sucks to have even the tiniest gnat fly into or around your eye, because you WILL have to close it/blink rapidly for a few seconds to get it out and you WILL momentarily lose your depth perception and it WILL be scary if it happens while you're moving fast.

Good lord I'm so sorry for this novel, hopefully there is at least SOMETHING remotely helpful in here, and if you have any other thoughts/questions at all please feel free to ask, there is absolutely no such thing as a stupid question in my book when it comes to bike.

[hotforharrison]

My ex-husband visited last night to have some time together as friends, and we spent a couple hours watching a show about sunken ships on Disney+ and had dinner together.

It was nice.

I admitted to him how much I missed him and that I genuinely appreciated him seeing me, even if it was on different terms than we used to have.

He cuddled me on the sofa for a while, and he let me cry all the tears seeing him again brought out of me.

We talked about very hard things for me to talk about, while I cried more than I thought I would, and we're going to go to the courthouse to file the paperwork to legally start the divorce this coming week.

He had some overtime this last paycheck, so it won't be a problem to pay for the (stupidly expensive) court costs.

We've been separated for almost two months now. He's moved out, and nothing else will change because of some paperwork, but it's somehow different dissolving our bond legally.

When I was finishing up cleaning his former room to turn it into my own space, completely devoid of his things, I found the ring he wore when we got married, the temporary one I got for less than $20 at Walmart in 2010. I didn't know he kept it for all these years.

It fucking broke me for some reason, and I cried for so long at the discovery.

Even if it wasn't stupidly hot, I can't be in the master bedroom. It feels so wrong. There's no more "us," and the decor is different, but it still feels like "our" room. We shared it for over a decade.

Maybe that feeling will fade with time.

Right now, I can't bring myself to remove his stuff from the vanity or the shower, even though I know he's not coming back.

I'm not in denial. It's just hard to accept it, that this chapter of my life is ending, and I'm so fucking terrified. I've never been more hurt or scared in my life.

I've been spending most of my time in his former room that has the window AC unit, which I'm working on make into something that's as mine as possible with very, very minimal spending -- just using as much stuff that I already have as possible.

I might have to hit up a Goodwill or two to see if I can find some wall decor on the cheap. It's looking like I'm coming up short in that department, and it's so important to me to make the single room I'm spending extended periods of time in as homey and mine as possible.

I'm not painting it, at least not any time soon, because I'll be (hopefully) starting to work soon. The room will stay deep space blue for the time being.

It's not the worst color ever, just not very me.

But I'm not the same me I was before I met him all those years ago.

He's always going to be a part of me.

You don't spend 17 years with someone without that person becoming a permanent piece of you.

Maybe the blue is kind of like that -- that piece of him that stays with me while I'm starting down my own path without him by my side.

Anyway, in addition to trying to carve out my own space in his former room, which is a work in progress, I've been working on getting the kitchen cabinet trim ready to be painted before I paint the walls and the cabinets themselves.

There are four layers of paint on those cabinets. It's taking multiple applications of paint stripper to get it off so I can properly paint the trim, which is my first task.

I want to get the trim done and the new liners put in so I can put what I'm keeping into the cabinets again instead of being a huge mess in my former room. The mess is bothering me, just knowing it's there.

My goal is to get the kitchen completely done before July 18 -- the date of my next meeting with the vocational rehabilitation case manager so I can get a job. He called it the "planning" meeting, since I was accepted into the program.

I'm supposed to send him a résumé, and I'm like "...I haven't worked since early 2008, and my work experience was stocking shelves at Walmart."

My college education in IT is irrelevant because technology has changed so much since 2006 when I graduated.

I'll send him one, though.

Maybe there's some form or something I can plug my information into without putting in a ton of effort for the absolutely pointless résumé.

[whitehairedanimeboyfriend]

Saw some posts going around about being homeless and wanted to throw my own two cents in on strategies you can use.

A lot of people think that once you lose your home, your two options are either spend a bunch of money on motels or sleep outside. There are many other options you should exhaust first.

Pack light. Bring a couple changes of clothes, but don't over burden yourself. Fresh underwear and socks are more important than anything. You can swing wearing the same jeans for longer than the same shirt.

Don't break the habit of brushing your teeth often. It's important and a difficult habit to build up again.

Get a good phone charger, and a good portable battery. You can get ones on Amazon that will fully charge your phone up to 10 times on one charge of the battery. If you don't have a place you can accept deliveries, try dollarstores, Walmart, and best buy, or other electronic stores.

High data plans are really cheap right now, so if you're already paying 30-40 for your phone plan, check to see if you can switch to a higher data plan for the same price on your phone provider's website.

Have utensils. You can get packs of portable and easy to wash ones that come with fork, spoon, knife, and straw. Or you can just pack normal ones. It's up to you.

Get a multi-tool. Theyre really handy to have.

If you buy a weapon of any kind to defend yourself, make sure you know how to use it and really have an indepth check in with yourself: if you were in a fight, would you be willing to use it on another person? If you are unsure even a little bit, don't carry it. Knife, gun, any of those specialized self defense items. They're more likely to be taken and used on you. Especially if you hesitate.

Get on welfare, income assistance, food stamps, or whatever other government program you can. These often provide access to resources and if you get a social worker, they will often be familiar with resources and programs you can access.

Be kind and respectful to other homeless people but don't make friends with them. This may sound harsh but people in these situations are desperate and if you drop your guard around some individuals you will get robbed. Plus, it's really easy to get sucked into toxic mindsets where you spiral into self destruction if there are other people to go down with you. You will feed off of each other's bullshit. It's just better for you and them to focus on yourself right now.

Having a baby right now will not save you or fix your situation. If you have sex, use protection. If you get pregnant, highly consider getting an abortion if you're able to. Being pregnant complicates homelessness a lot and your kid will almost definitely be taken from you, which is heartbreaking.

Keep a low profile. Don't get into fights or arguments, don't yell at service workers, don't be a nuisance to retail. Sometimes you will be wronged and it'll feel unfair, but often it's best to swallow your pride and to remain in good standing with the people around you.

Sell or leave any laptops, tablets, and other electronic devices you can't keep on your person. If someone doesn't steal them they will most likely just get broken or damaged.

Look up all the soup kitchens and foodbanks in your area. Most of the time, there will be at least one place open any given day of the week. Churches are the ones that will do this more often than not, and as long as it's not Salvation Army they usually do not care who you are or how you got there. Missions tend to feel more secular than say, Catholic churches, if that matters to you. (but getting a hot meal is often worth sitting through the Lord's Prayer.)

If you're under thirty, look up Youth resources. Usually there will be services tailored specifically for you that won't be as in demand as general population services.

Employment centers, libraries, food banks, etc, should have contact information regarding shelters. If you're a woman running from an abuse situation there are even more options.

Shelters tend to be hit or miss. I've stayed in really awful ones, I've stayed in really good ones. The best you're going to find are the ones where each resident gets their own room. They're hard to come by, but one of the shelters I stayed at the most when I was homeless let you stay up to two months on your first go. Then youre out for two weeks, then you can come back for up to a month at a time. If you're lucky, you'll find a shelter that provides meals as well. This is a great place to have a warm bed to sleep, meals, and showers.

Couch surf. Now's the time to call on your friends for favours. I try not to stay in any one place for longer than five days. Mixing this with staying at a shelter got me through about five years of homelessness.

Group homes, supervised living programs, etc. These tend to be the next step up from shelters. Almost all of them give you your own room and are more long term than shelters. Often, you have to actively be working and/or participating in an education or employment program to stay, but it's way more stable than staying at a shelter.

Do not bother with Facebook marketplace queer housing groups. In a lot of cases you'll be out on your ass again in a couple of months. There's a reason people in these groups can't keep roommates.

When you can, have a set of clothes that make you not "look homeless." You will find situations where you need to blend in. If you have a secure place to store your belongings even better. Dead giveaways for homeless people are often their huge backpacks and a lot of people know this.

Out of the cold shelters open up in the winter. They're more temporary than regular shelters and it's usually sleeping on the floor of a church or community center, but they're okay options in a pinch.

If you have to sleep outside, go off the beaten path if you can. It's easier to do this outside of city centers but this is obviously not always an option. Tents are great but tarps are even more portable. Sleeping bags help maintain body heat far better than blankets. Use your backpack as a pillow, or grab a pillowcase and stuff it with your clothes when it's time to sleep.

This may go without saying but if you have a car, sleep in that. You won't need to bother with shelters or sleeping outside.

Showering at gyms and truck stops is obvious, but if you can find a drop in center, you can shower, get something to eat, and often even do your laundry. Some drop in centers require membership but it's often not difficult to get and it's free. They just want to register you and keep track of who is coming and going. You will often be assigned a case worker that will help you with finding a place to stay or even a job.

Short hair is easier to maintain in these situations. Moreover, I highly recommend against dying your hair at this time, especially bright unnatural colours because the colour will fade fast, and it'll be really difficult to blend in with non homeless people when you have to.

Spend your days in libraries charging your phone, keeping warm, and entertaining yourself. You can stay from open until closed without being disturbed. Look at bulletin boards and pamphlets while you're there and you might find programs you can join or resources you can access.

I personally have never gone dumpster diving. I've never had to. I don't live in a very rich city but there was still always resources I could access before it came to that. Personally, I would exaust all my other options before I start rooting around in trash cans but that's just me.

If you keep food on hand while you're outside, be mindful of animals. Look up methods of keeping your food safe from bears if you are staying in wooded areas. Even places you think are too close to civilization can have bears wandering around. Also, be mindful of "refrigerate after opening" warning labels on food. It's best to get shelf stable items when possible. Condiment packets that are single use are better than bottles because they'll keep longer.

Stealing from grocery stores is easier if you buy some things, too. You can get toothpaste, shampoo, etc from drop in centers and foodbanks but I would personally suggest buying larger items like sandwich meat, and stuffing small items like water flavoring into your pockets when you're wandering down an unoccupied aisle. On that note if you have a hard time drinking plain water, get water flavoring! It's important to stay hydrated.

This might just be the country I live in, but one other place you're very unlikely to be bothered is hospital cafeterias. This is one example, I think, of a place where you don't want to "look" homeless. If it's an especially cold night though, sitting in the corner quietly and being on your phone won't look suspicious. You may need to stay up for the night and then take a nap outside in the day. Or, go to a Library in the morning.

Wear sunglasses and hold your phone or a book in front of you and nap when you're indoors. Especially if you're in a corner by yourself and especially if you're "blending in" with non homeless people, no one will bother you. Best place to do this is libraries.

Food courts are also a decent option. Usually there are so many people that no one is going to bother a random person that's there all day. One of those other instances of its easier if you don't look homeless.

Cycle through places you stay at during the day. It'll look a lot less suspicious if you only spend one day a week at any given place.

Depending on your age, if you live in a university town, you can spend time in university areas. Cafeterias, libraries, computer labs. This one is not something I'm quite as familiar with but I know people that did it. Try to blend in, look like you're busy. Students are easier to blend in with than probably any other population you can think of. You're going to really have to choose your own adventure with this one, but I would aim for places with a large student body that you don't need a key card to get into, and make yourself look busy.

If all else fails, ride around on public transit. Take long lines from start to finish. Catch a nap if you can. This is an especially great option if you have a bus pass, and while it is easier to do if you blend in, depending on the size of your city and how many people are on, you will be mostly undisturbed.

[notalexhorne]

So, for those of you who have been following me for a while, you know I have been having a time of it in the clothing department. It turns out losing weight is oddly distressing and stressful once you reach the point that nothing in your closet fits, and you live out in the sticks where the only options are Goodwill and Walmart, while your tastes tend to skew more… eccentric.

Then @alexhornecloset popped up and I was like, hell yes. Half the shit in my closet that fits me like a circus tent looks like something he’d wear anyway, so let’s go. And then I looked at one of the sites they posted, and Jesus fucking Christ, that was the most unhinged goddamn website I have ever seen in my life. But I needed some new clothes that fit me before I lost my entire mind, and was willing to take a risk, so yolo or some shit. And it’s been about a month, but my order finally arrived today.

A point of warning, Molilulu is 100% dropshipping. This was actually confirmed by them in email when I contacted them several weeks ago because I was wondering why my order was still “pending” after the scheduled delivery window. They were very up front in their response, in that my order was rather large, and taking longer than usual to order each item individually. It took about another week beyond that, and then they repackaged everything and forwarded it on to me. Even if they hadn’t told me this, it would have become obvious very quickly, because they were in their original packaging, which all varied, and they all have different cuts and labels and tags, and are definitely not from the same manufacturer.

As far as ridiculous printed shirts go, they don’t feel any different from the other ridiculous printed shirts already in my closet; they’re that same kind of cheap polyester faux-silk fabric Hawaiian shirts have been made out of for the last couple of decades.

Anyway. I have new shirts!

The first one is the only one that is obviously not what I ordered. The differences are subtle, but as soon as I noticed, I became instantly vexed. Mainly because this is the one I wanted most, and one of only two I could not find anywhere else. The pocket is different, which is bad enough, but then I noticed the text on the tape. “Awesome Mix vol 1.”

I did not order a Guardians of the Galaxy shirt. Fucksake. That’s actually annoying, but not annoying enough to faff about with returning it.

Some mad flamingoes, because why the hell not. Look at them, they’re insane. I love them.

I somehow didn’t even notice the cat on this one at first, but that makes me love this one even more. It’s also my husband’s favourite.

I think this one might be my favourite. Idk why. I just love all the different jellyfish on it.

I really liked this one too. Being a cohesive picture across multiple panels was so fun. I couldn’t pass it up.

And of course, I couldn’t help myself. And of course, this was the second design I couldn’t seem to source anywhere else. Naturally.

And then my husband absolutely insisted that I get this one for him. But at least he went for this one and not the other one.

But overall, I’d be willing to bet this site is probably sourcing from Alibaba or similar. When they finally did ship, the package still came from China, so it made no difference whatsoever.

[losingfayth]

it's nearing midnight and i'm walking home from a friend's apartment.

i'm sure i'm quite the sight to behold at the moment. my choice of gym short shorts is a bit premature for the weather. my hoodie would be perfectly seasonal if not for the curious choice to roll both sleeves up to my elbows. the cold is intense but manageable, and the sleeves don't even reach my wrists anyway. rolling them up at least gives the illusion that i want them to fail at covering my entire arm, rather than admit to any passersby that i chose a smaller size because i thought it looked nicer despite not accomodating my long, gangly limbs very well. the cheap fake crystals of my walmart cross necklace fail to catch the light of the streetlights, and the cross itself seems to contradict with my earrings which read "be gay, do crime." my glasses have rainbow frames. my piercings are numerous. my eyeliner is dramatically winged.

i'm sure i'm quite the sight to behold.

i feel, in this moment, like a character in an indie movie. i visually fit the part, surely, and i'm melancholicly listening to a sweet song about two lovers enjoying each others' simpler pleasures. it's a happy song that makes me sad.

i check my phone for new messages again. i texted my ex hours ago to see if she had time for me this weekend. i haven't heard back yet. she usually checks her phone before bed, so i should've seen something by now. but, then again, it is friday night. she could still be up. she could have plans.

that idea wrenches my chest. i can't imagine who she has plans with. i can imagine who she has plans with. i don't want her to have plans with him. god, please no.

i prayed earlier that we would be brought back together. i sure hope somebody listened.

i'm nearing the crosswalk, feeling like a character in an indie movie. maybe not an indie movie, actually. i may be "manic pixie," but i'm not exactly anyone's dream girl. maybe an alternative music video by some garage band out of portland. maybe that's more accurate.

then again... here's the thing: if i saw me, right now, in this moment, crossing the street in the middle of the night, a tall, alternative lesbian dressed inappropriately for the weather hauling an acoustic guitar on her back, i think i'd fall in love instantly. i would melt as she showed me her obscene pokemon merch collection (we love a girlie who's passionate) or explains her prescription insoles (we love a girlie who can make her own doctor's appointments). i'm no lesbian casanova, don't get me wrong, but i've fallen for girls with less going for them. why do i assume no one else is going to love all the same things i would?

i thought about a conversation. one i might have if i finally decide the jettison my ex-girlfriend from my life. "i deserve better than you!" i say.

...but, then again...

there's not too many people in this world who would put up with my bullshit. there's not too many people in this world who are as kind, caring, compassionate, loving, understanding as she is.

we visited her father's memorial one day. she was beside herself. an absolute wreck. but, before we left, she went to every single other memorial there and fixed it up. she straightened flags and put up fallen magnets and tended to plants. she did it like it was her job. like it was expected of her. and every time i bring it up, she responds the same way.

"it was the right thing to do."

i trust her to do the right thing in so many areas. i trust her to do the right thing almost all the time. the one thing i don't trust her to do right is keep safe my heart. she broke it once, and i'm here in agony again and again for her. if she truly doesn't want me, she should cut me loose for good. anything less is just cruel.

i feel like a character in an indie movie. a movie i want to end already.

[sab3rto0thed]

next time, instead of worshipping another cunt, i'm going to become a devout christian with a bible tucked underneath my arm and a cross on my thigh.

my boss jokes that if he ever sees me like that, he'll know it's really over for me, because i'd have started worshipping a straight boy with a cross on his arm and a folder of dick pics. i had to laugh with him, before i remembered we are both meant to look miserable. misery does love company, though, so i laugh anyway. he doesn't know that it's been over for me for a long time.

when i was in high school, i met the girl that would become my metaphorical virgin mary. the one in the background that somehow stuck to the front of the photo, whose name everyone said reverently. she was more of an anarchist than a catholic, but she had a smile that would kill and a way of balancing opposites. misery loved to keep her company, or maybe it was the fact that company loved to keep her miserable.

i can never be a christian because one very important feature of christianity is forgiveness. i know this as a fact―everyone close to me that goes to church has had to forgive me at least three times. this isn't the point, because i have a way of avoiding those. i can never be a christian because they're all about forgiveness, and i could never forgive this girl.

she was my god as soon as i laid eyes on her. she was only a year and a half older than me, an august baby, which meant she was a virgo. according to the internet, this means she was hardworking and reliable, lovely and modest. she wore doc martens like they were wings. she had eyeliner smudged on her thumb and a layered septum ring, like a miniature sun coming out of her nose.

she had everything that i didn't, and i tried so hard to fix that. i smudged eyeliner all over my thumb and bought knockoff docs from walmart. i made my hair choppy, gave myself a semi-decent bleach job with my aunt. what i didn't know was that none of this would matter. there was something fundamental about her that i simply did not possess.

maybe i was too loud. they would let her climb in the shed and they wouldn't let me, because i would get splinters in my palms and laugh about it. i cried too often―she never cried, and if she did, she always had company. no one ever wanted to see me cry. after she moved to los angeles and i was forced to let her go, i broke down on the ferris wheel the first time i went out with my new friends. that's the kind of fundamentality that i possessed―she would never do that. she reeled you in first. i was shit.

i just wish―oh, god, i don't know what i wish. i wish i hadn't told her about the suicide attempt. i wish she hadn't hugged me in the dead of winter. i wish i hadn't said a word about her to another soul. i wish i could be decent about something in my life. i wish i didn't shut the hell up whenever i was in the car with her. i always said―i always thought, oh, she's done with me. she never had me to begin with. you can't be done with something you never really cared about in the first place.

i was in love with her ex-boyfriend. he hated it when i interrupted them at school. i was a public nuisance. five years later and we are neighbors. i see him every six months and i wonder if she would ever be jealous. i would still give my life to protect him, even though he only gives a damn about me for one month out of six. she sucks his dick to get vape pods. i would suck his dick for free―that's why her other ex tried to rebound with me. i am the cheap knockoff version of that bitch. we call this the full-circle drama club whore―she is getting fucked in the backseats of cars and i start crying after i sleep with anyone, so we still can't figure out who the whore is.

she had everything i ever wanted. she never even offered me an edible. i cried so hard in my bedroom, the kind of sobbing that makes you gag. she didn't love me. none of them did. it's not a big surprise―the only person i have ever had sex with was my friend's ex-boyfriend, which is wrong on at least three counts. i may as well have committed murder. everyone knows, and that's fine―let them spew the narrative. i just have to remain unapologetic.

that was the thing about this girl. she never, ever flinched. i wish i could be that apathetic. i wish i didn't care about others the way she cut me out when i needed her the most. maybe i would be more successful. maybe i would be less hurt when i'm lied to about little things. maybe i would be better.

i can never forgive her, and that's why i can't find religion. i hold on to my spite like a second skin. i push too hard in groups even when i haven't spoken to her in three years. i make sure everyone knows i'm there, because i cannot be the ghost in the backseat of another girl's car. i just can't. it's better if i spew the narrative. i can't shut my mouth―she always stayed quiet. well, good, then.

i have not been raised with anyone. all of my friends ditched me for drugs and los angeles and new cars and decent parents. no one ever stays long enough to kiss me on the mouth―if they do, oh, god damn, they learn fast. i will get through another winter, survive another night of being hacked open in my nightmares. i will get out of this room. maybe i will not cry after sex, and maybe my partner won't leave. i held his hand. i knew it was wrong. i do all the things wrong.

i am always waiting for something to give. i push the ones i love away before they can examine my organs and find the nasty thing in my body―the thing that is fundamentally wrong with me, that scares people away. i'm afraid i will never be able to sit naked with a boy again because he will see the history of who i have let touch me. i can't bring friends home anymore. i try not to ask for other peoples' time.

i am a decent liar. sometimes, i feel like i should be better. more often than that, i feel like i should work on being worse. she was full of lies. i could never hate her. i think i have to forgive her eventually―she was only seventeen. seventeen is a very difficult age. i think, maybe, if i can start by being better to the shape of her―maybe i can be a little better to myself, too.