#at least ur like. persistent idk

[comas-are-for-sleeping]

BETTER AWKWARD THAN NOT AT ALL (repeating to myself like a mantra)

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |8|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Eight: Old Temptations

Summary: After hiding yourself away for weeks, Anika and Henry get you to return to the living. While you're at the party they bring you to, you run into Tara before a third-party runs into your fists.

Warning(s): Swearing, fighting - whoop whoop!! that's the sound, social interactions, and drinking (underage)

Notes: I made at least ten drafts, combined them, adjusted, and here is the final product. This is more of an R focused chapter, so you'll start to see more of the internal struggles she goes through along with a special guest start. As always, I hope you enjoy

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The incandescent lights of Henry's apartment building buzz overhead as you follow him and Anika up the concrete stairs. Your boots echo against each step, creating a hollow rhythm that matches your reluctant heartbeat. You've been dreading this party all week, but your friends had worn you down with their relentless enthusiasm and pointed comments about your "hermit tendencies."

"I still can't believe you actually agreed to come," Henry says over his shoulder, his keys jingling as he searches for the right one. "Usually getting you out after exams is like trying to coax a cat into taking a bath."

"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf," you mutter, knowing full well it's a lie. The only reason you'd agreed was because they'd caught you in a moment of weakness—specifically, when you were coming down from a three-day study binge and your defenses were too low to properly deflect their persistent pestering.

Anika snorts, adjusting her glittering top that catches the harsh hallway light. "Right. And I'm going to start watching silent films with you."

"Charlie Chaplin’s a classic," you defend, following them into Henry's apartment. The familiar scent of his signature sandalwood candles hits you immediately. 

"Whatever you say, grandma," Henry teases, disappearing into his bedroom. You can hear him rummaging around, probably looking for whatever he plans to wear tonight.

You collapse onto his worn leather couch, the same one he'd rescued from a curb three years ago. Despite its questionable origins, it's the most comfortable piece of furniture you've ever encountered. Maybe if you sink deep enough into it, they'll forget you're here and leave without you.

Anika perches on the arm of the couch, already touching up her makeup in a compact mirror. "You know," she starts, and you recognize that tone—it's the one she uses when she's about to say something she thinks you won't like. "Tara might be there tonight."

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "And why would I care about that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Anika draws out the words, applying another coat of mascara with practiced precision. "Maybe because you've been moping around ever since your little disappearing act?"

"I haven't been moping," you protest, but even you can hear how weak it sounds. "I've been studying. There's a difference."

"Right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. The past few weeks have been a blur of textbooks, coffee, and a blend of mathematical formulas and historical documentations. You'd thrown yourself into exam preparation with perhaps more vigor than strictly necessary, but that was just your way of dealing with stress. 

It definitely had nothing to do with how you'd ignored her texts afterward.

Dork (3:47 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I can't make it tonight

Tara (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) oh. lemme knw when u can reschedule 

Dork (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Tara, don't do that

Tara (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) dont wat????

Dork (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I know what 'oh' means

Tara (3:50 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) well then eblighten me cuz idk what ur ymmaring abt

Dork (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Enlighten/*yammering, and never mind

Tara (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) 🤓 is u fr 

Dork (3:52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Excuse me? 

Tara (3: 52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) i have to explain??? but i thougt u were all knowing!

Dork (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Thought. I know you know how to spell, you're just reckless with a keyboard

Tara (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) my question is when did i ask

Dork (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) That's an improvement

Tara (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) stfup.

Henry emerges from his bedroom, now wearing a fitted crop-top that every guy wore in the 80’s. "Are we talking about the Tara situation?"

"There is no 'Tara situation,'" you insist, making air quotes with your fingers. "Can we please just go to this party so I can suffer through it and get back to my peaceful, drama-free existence?"

"Drama-free?" Henry laughs, grabbing his keys. "Is that what we're calling your one-person production of 'Hamlet' these last eighteen years?"

You bite your thumb at him, but there's no real heat behind it. These are your best friends, after all, and you know their teasing comes from a place of love. Even if they're being particularly annoying about it tonight.

The drive to the party is a blur of street lights and the sound of Abbey Road. You're behind the wheel of your beloved '70 Ford Maverick, a car that Henry constantly ridicules. Anika claims the passenger seat, still fussing with her makeup, while Henry sprawls in the back, giving you directions that are more confusing than helpful.

"No, no, turn left at the next—wait, I meant right. My other left."

"Your other left?" you deadpan, making the turn anyway. "How many lefts do you have?"

"Don't sass the navigator," he replies primly. "Oh, there it is! The house with all the cars out front."

You pull up to the curb about half a block away, already feeling your anxiety spike at the sight of the crowded frat house. Music pulses from within, so loud you can feel it in your chest even from here. People mill about on the front lawn, red cups in hand, their laughter carrying through the night air.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you ask, killing the engine but making no move to get out of the car.

Anika turns to you, her expression softening slightly. "Because Henry threatened to sing the entire soundtrack of 'Cats' outside your bedroom door if you didn't come."

"That was a low blow," you mutter, finally unbuckling your seatbelt. "You know how much I hate that musical."

"Desperate times," Henry says cheerfully, already out of the car and bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Come on, let's go find out what kinds of terrible decisions we can make tonight!"

You follow your friends up the walkway, trying to ignore the way your palms are already sweating. The last party you'd attended had been... well, it had been a week before your self-imposed exile. The night Tara had looked at you with those impossibly dark eyes and asked if you wanted to get some air, and you'd panicked and made up an excuse about needing to check on your nonexistent fish.

The front door is already open, music and voices spilling out into the night. As soon as you cross the threshold, you're hit with a wall of sensory input that makes your head spin. The air is thick with artificial fog from a machine hidden somewhere in the corner, mixed with the distinctive scent of cheap beer and various perfumes and colognes. Multi-colored lights pulse in time with the music, turning everything into a strobing dreamscape and your nightmare.

Henry guides you through the crowd with a gentle hand on your back, navigating the sea of bodies with practiced ease. You catch glimpses of familiar faces as you pass. They all blur together in the dim light, becoming a kaleidoscope of features that makes your head swim.

You end up at yet another worn leather couch that's seen better days, probably around the same era as your car. Henry gestures for you to sit, and you do, grateful for something solid beneath you. The cushions seem to want to swallow you whole, and for once, you don't fight it.

"I'll get us drinks!" Henry shouts over the music, already backing away into the crowd. "Don't move!"

Anika lingers for a moment, looking torn between staying with you and pursuing whatever—or whoever—has caught her attention across the room. You wave her off with a weak smile. "Go. I'll be fine right here, becoming one with the furniture."

She hesitates another second before grinning. "Try to have some fun, okay? And text me if you need an escape plan." Then she's gone, disappearing into the crowd with the grace of Mindy, someone who actually enjoys these sorts of gatherings.

Left alone, you let yourself sink deeper into the couch, watching the party unfold around you. A group of girls near the makeshift dance floor are attempting some sort of choreographed routine, though the alcohol in their systems is making it more comedic than coordinated. Two guys are engaged in what appears to be an intense debate about pizza toppings, their gestures becoming more animated with each passing second.

The bass line of whatever song is playing thrums through your body, making your bones vibrate in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. You find yourself timing your breathing to it, using it as an anchor in the chaos. This isn't so bad, you think. You can handle this. It's just a few hours, and then you can go home and binge-watch your comfort shows until the sun comes up.

"Y/L/N special!" Henry's voice breaks through your thoughts as he returns, thrusting a red solo cup into your hands. The liquid inside is an alarming shade of orange that definitely doesn't occur in nature.

You eye it suspiciously. "What exactly makes it a ‘Y/L/N special'?"

"The fact that it's specifically designed for the same people who despise candy unless it's 99% cacao," he explains, dropping onto the couch beside you with his own drink—something amber-colored that you assume is actually beer.

"That's... oddly thoughtful," you admit, taking a tentative sip. It tastes like water that’s had lemons and limes soak in it for months, the kick makes your tongue tingle. "And dangerous."

"Just pace yourself," he advises, watching as more people filter into the already crowded space. "Oh hey, isn't that Charlotte?"

You follow his gaze to see Charlotte, the person you ended things with through a text message. You try to hide behind the red plastic in your hand as you sip, but you nearly spill your bitter bread water all over yourself when she notices you. You can tell it caught her off guard; her eyes slightly widened and she took an uncomfortably long pause mid-sentence. This pause caused her friends to look over which only made things even more awkward—at least for you. After shooting daggers at you and one of them flipping you off, they linked elbows with Charlotte and took her to a different room.

You know you deserved it.

Henry sucked his teeth. “Ouch. Casanova strikes again,” he chuckled with amusement.

“Ugh,” you express in response to the name for you before downing the last of the liquid in your cup. “I’m out. I’m gonna get one more.”

One drink turns into two, two turns into three, and somewhere during your debate with Henry over which Ninja Turtle’s the best one, you’re interrupted by a pair of familiar dark brown eyes meeting yours. Your attention always seemed to gravitate towards Tara Carpenter. 

You momentarily pause your expression of admiration for Leonardo, peeking over Henry’s shoulder to give Tara a downwards smile paired with a finger wave. She rolls her eyes and returns your finger wave in a mocking gesture. After Henry realizes what’s grabbed your attention, he makes an excuse to walk away.

You're nursing your fifth orange drink when she materializes beside you, seemingly out of thin air. "Seriously?" The word drips with exasperation. "You're actually hiding behind Henry?"

"I'm not hiding," you protest, pulling yourself up to what you hope is a dignified height. "I'm strategically positioning myself for optimal social avoidance."

Tara snorts—an inelegant sound that somehow makes her more endearing. "Is that what we're calling it?" 

The space between you crackles with a tension that's part irritation, part something else entirely. 

"I could ask you the same thing," you counter with a crack in your voice. Tara notices this and slightly raises an eyebrow while giving you a once-over. "Pretty sure you've been standing in the exact same spot for the last twenty minutes."

Her eyes narrow. "I'm observing."

"Stalking," you correct automatically.

"Strategically positioning myself," she throws your earlier words back at you, and there's a glint in her eye that makes your breath catch.

For a moment, you felt uncharacteristically at ease in such a setting—when you catch a fragment of a conversation that makes your blood run cold. 

“—Carpenter's got a mouth on her that could—"

The words slice through your alcohol-induced haze like a knife. Your head whips around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash, searching for the source of the comment. Two guys are leaning against the wall near the stairs, one of them making crude gestures as he continues to make vile comments about Tara.

The pleasant warmth in your system transforms instantly into liquid fire. You recognize one of them—Marcus Wheeler from your Calculus class, the one who always makes inappropriate comments during lectures and thinks he's God's gift to mathematics. The other is unfamiliar, but the way he's laughing and encouraging Marcus makes your skin crawl.

Your muscles tense. Tara notices immediately. "Don't," she warns, a single word packed with more meaning than should be possible.

But you're already moving, your body acting before your brain can fully process the decision. 

Your fist connects with his jaw before you even realize you've thrown the punch. There's a satisfying crack that you feel more than hear, followed by a burst of pain across your knuckles that you're too angry to properly register. The pain sends a rush through you, pushes you, tempts you for more. 

Marcus staggers back, both surprised and hurt, but recovers quickly. He lunges for you, but your muscle memory kicks in. You sidestep, using his momentum against him, and somehow you end up on top of him, getting in another solid hit before strong hands pull you away.

The world comes rushing back all at once. The music has stopped, replaced by the murmur of shocked voices and the ringing in your ears. Everyone is staring at you, their faces a blur of surprise and judgment. Marcus is on the ground, blood trickling from his split lip, and presumably broken nose, looking at you with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and fear.

Your chest feels too tight, like someone's wrapped steel bands around your ribcage and is slowly tightening them. The weight of what you've just done crashes over you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. You need to get out—now.

You shoulder your way through the crowd, ignoring Henry calling your name, ignoring the whispers that follow in your wake. Someone tries to grab your arm, but you shake them off, focused solely on reaching the door. The cool night air hits your face like a slap when you finally burst outside, but you keep walking, your hands shaking as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

The crisp winter air hits you like a slap when you stumble outside, your breath forming small clouds in the freezing night.

“Wait!”

When did she get here?

"Let me see," Tara's voice cuts through your alcohol-induced haze, her hand reaching for yours with a familiarity that makes your head spin—or maybe you've had one too many of those orange drinks.

You thrust your hand toward her dramatically, wincing as the movement sends a spike of pain through your bruised knuckles.

"I totally got that incel good," you slur, a giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep and slightly unhinged. The ice beneath your feet seems to shimmer with your triumph.

Tara's fingers hover just above your hand, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. "You're going to need ice for that," she says, her tone caught between exasperation and something else—something softer.

"Ice, huh?" You look down at the ground, the irony not lost on you. 

With exaggerated precision, you bend down and scoop up a handful of snow, pressing it against your knuckles. The cold bites, but it's a welcome contrast to the burning anger and alcohol still coursing through your system.

"This works, right?" You look up at her, your eyes wide and slightly unfocused. The world tilts slightly, but Tara remains steady—an anchor in your spinning vision.

Something flickers in her eyes—amusement, maybe. "You're something else," she mutters, but there's no real bite to the words.

Emboldened by alcohol and adrenaline, you lean in closer. The words tumble out before you can stop them. "So… I never did get an answer to that proposal."

Tara goes very still. A smile begins to form, tentative and fragile as first light. 

She chuckles at your remark before shaking her head and scoffing to herself. "Sometimes I just don't get you," she says with a smile still etched on her face, but there's more complexity in those words than simple dismissal as she stares back into your eyes.

Confusion must show on your face because she looks away, the streetlight catching the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw. You didn’t know what else to say so you just said the first thing that came to mind. 

“Merry birthday, Tar,” you said. 

She’s taken aback by this. She didn’t know what to say, yet still opened her mouth to respond. Maybe something would come to her, but before anything did—

"There you are!" Anika's voice cuts through the moment like a knife. Your car pulls up to the curb, engine running warm against the freezing air. "We need to get out of here before that guy calls the cops."

The moment dissolves. Tara takes a step back, creating distance that feels more emotional than physical. You're left standing there, snow melting between your fingers, the taste of unresolved everything burning at the back of your throat.

As you climb into the passenger seat, you catch one last glimpse of her in the side mirror—a silhouette, perfectly still and impossibly distant.

—

The drive home is mostly silent, broken only by the occasional sigh from Anika and the gentle humming of your car's engine. Your knuckles throb in time with your heartbeat, a steady reminder of your momentary loss of control. The adrenaline is wearing off now, replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and alcohol-induced wooziness that makes you slouch lower in your seat.

"You know," Anika finally says as she pulls into your shared apartment complex, "when I said you needed to be more social, starting another fight wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

You grunt in response, too busy focusing on the way the world is tilting slightly to form actual words. The drinks are hitting harder now that the excitement is over, making everything feel soft around the edges.

"Use your words," she chides, killing the engine. 

"Words are for people who don't punch assholes at parties," you mumble, fumbling with your seatbelt. The simple mechanism seems impossibly complex right now.

Anika reaches over to help you, her movements gentle despite her exasperated tone. "Come on, Rocky Balboa. Let's get you inside."

Getting up the stairs to your second-floor apartment proves to be an adventure. You insist you can do it yourself, but after the third time you miss a step, Anika wraps an arm around your waist and practically drags you up.

"I can walk," you protest, even as you lean heavily against her.

"Sure you can. Just like you can make rational decisions at parties, right?" 

You attempt to glare at her, but the effect is somewhat ruined when you stumble over your own feet. "He deserved it."

"Oh, I'm not arguing that point," Anika says, fishing her keys out of her purse while still supporting most of your weight. "Marcus Wheeler is definitely in the running for Biggest Douchebag of the Year. But maybe next time we could handle it without violence? You know, like adults?"

"Adulting is overrated," you declare as she manages to get the door open. "If I was a kid, I could just pull Tara's pigtails or something."

Anika steers you toward the kitchen, depositing you none too gently into one of the mismatched chairs around your small table. "Okay, first of all, that's not the approach to crushing on someone that you think it is. Second, stay put while I get the first aid kit."

You slump forward, resting your forehead against the cool surface of the table. "Not crushing," you mumble into the wood. "Just... emotionally compromised."

"Right," Anika calls from the bathroom, where you can hear her rummaging through cabinets. "And I'm just 'casually interested' in my hot girlfriend."

"That's different," you argue, lifting your head slightly. "You two are together. You’re attached to the hip—you don’t hide from each other."

"Ha! So you admit you were hiding!"

You let your head thunk back down onto the table. "I admit nothing. I was studying. Very intensely. In locations where certain people were statistically unlikely to appear."

Anika returns with the first aid kit and a bag of frozen peas, setting both on the table. "Sit up, you disaster. Let me see your hand."

You comply with a dramatic sigh, straightening in your chair and holding out your injured hand. Your knuckles are already starting to bruise, spots of purple blooming across the skin. There are a few small cuts, probably from where you caught Marcus's teeth.

"This might sting," Anika warns before dabbing at the cuts with an alcohol wipe. You hiss through your teeth but don't pull away. "So," she continues, her tone deceptively casual, "want to talk about what really happened back there?"

"Not particularly," you mutter, watching as she carefully cleans each cut. "Can we just chalk it up to temporary insanity and move on?"

"You punched a guy for talking shit about Tara." She applies antibiotic ointment with practiced efficiency. "That's not temporary insanity. That's feelings."

You try to pull your hand away, but she holds firm. "It's not— I just— He was being gross!"

"Mhmm." She wraps your knuckles in gauze with precise movements. "And the fact that it was about Tara specifically had nothing to do with your reaction?"

"I would have done the same for anyone," you insist, even though you both know it's a lie. "It's about basic human decency."

"Right. Basic human decency. That's why you've been moping around our apartment for two weeks, taking different routes, and muttering under your breath when you think I can't hear you."

Before you can form a suitably indignant response, your phone buzzes. Henry's face appears on the screen, caught mid-laugh at some long-ago hangout.

You put the call on speaker, feeling too exhausted to hold the phone. Henry's excited voice crackles through, bursting with energy.

"Holy shit! Are you okay? That was the most badass thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"I'm fine," you mutter, wincing as Anika presses a bag of frozen peas against your bruised knuckles. "Ow! Except for my so-called best friend trying to give me frostbite."

Anika's tone is no-nonsense. "Keep the ice on, or your hand will swell up like a balloon."

Henry can barely contain his excitement. "You should have seen Marcus's face after you left. He was completely shaken. I don't think anyone's ever stood up to him like that before."

You groan, tilting your head back. "Great. Now I'll be known as the crazy chick who starts fights at parties. That'll look amazing on my resume."

"Are you kidding? You're going to be a legend!" Henry starts, then suddenly there's a scuffle in the background.

"Am I on speaker?" you ask, suspicion rising in your voice.

"No!" Henry says simultaneously with another voice declaring, "Yes!"

You recognize the second voice immediately. "Henry James Martinez," you say, using his full name—knowing how much he hates it—"Are you and Tony back together?"

"No!" Henry protests. "His place flooded, and he needed a place to stay!"

"Sure thing, Hef," you chuckle, catching Anika's amused smile.

Tony's cheerful voice joins the conversation. "Hey, heard you knocked some douche on his ass for talking shit about your girlfriend. Nicely done."

"She's not my girlfriend," you respond quickly.

Henry can't resist. "Define girlfriend."

You're ready with a comeback. "Define sharing a living space with—"

"Uh oh, bad connection," Henry interrupts, and suddenly the line goes dead. Anika bursts into laughter.

“I’m gonna get you some aspirin,” Anika offered, patting your shoulder as she passed. “But just so you know that whole ‘emotionally compromised’ thing? Yeah, that’s basically the definition of crushing.”

You make an incoherent noise of protest into the table. 

"Oh, and by the way," Anika calls from the kitchen, "you're totally teaching me that right hook tomorrow. After your hangover wears off, of course."

You lift your head just enough to deadpan at her. 

"Love you too, champ. Now take your aspirin and go to bed before you fall asleep on the table. Again."

Not long after she went to her room, you stumble into the bathroom, hand throbbing and head spinning—the former a reminder of the night’s events. The light is harsh against your alcohol-fogged brain. The tile floor is cold beneath your bare feet as you stumble to the sink, turning on the water and splashing your face.

When you look up, he's there.

Your Uncle's bloody corpse stands behind you in the reflection, that familiar crooked smile that's always been more predatory than comforting. His appearance is exactly as you remember from old photographs—that slightly manic glint in his eye, the way he holds himself like violence is always just beneath the surface.

"Killer punch," he says, leaning against the bathroom wall. No greeting, no preamble. Just direct observation.

You don't jump but roll your eyes. "Go away," you mutter, gripping the sink's edge.

He chuckles—a sound that's more bark than laugh. "I saw myself in you tonight. That rage? That precise moment of calculated violence? Pure genetics that chose you."

"I'm nothing like you," you snap, turning to face him directly. The bathroom suddenly feels smaller.

He takes a step closer. "Oh, but you are. That moment when you heard those guys talking about your girl? That split second before the punch? That wasn't just anger. That was hunting instinct."

You close your eyes, trying to block him out. "I'm not a killer. I'm not you."

"Not yet," he says, and there's something almost proud in his voice. "But you've got the potential. I saw how you moved. How you calculated. How you knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum impact."

"My dad’s a professional pig," you counter. "It’s not like I attended murder school."

His laugh is sharp, brittle. "Call it what you want. But we both know there's something inside you. Something sharp. Something waiting."

The argument feels familiar—like every nightmare, every family gathering where his memory haunted the edges of conversation, their fear of the parallels you both held. You're tired of it. Tired of him.

"I'm going to bed," you declare, pushing past his spectral form.

He doesn't disappear immediately. Instead, his voice follows you. "We're not so different, you and me."

You pause at the doorway, not turning around, as your hand tightly grips the edges of the doorframe. "We're nothing alike." 

The silence that follows is answer enough.

As you crawl back into bed, the room feels normal again—just another night, just another internal argument with a ghost who refuses to stay buried.

But somewhere in the darkness, you can still feel him watching. Waiting.

-----------

A/N:

gobble, gobble

[the-s1lly-corner]

hihihihi!!!

i hope ur doing ok

can i get uhhh

uhh

dandy x reader who is also a flower but is a lily of the valley(so they’re poisonous)

also can i be 😼 anon??

Dandy x lily of the valley toon!reader

i have really got to get back on marking and keeping track of my anons- I have a whole list but I genuinely forget to update it-- especially because I do queued posts 😭💔

Notes: gn toon reader, leaned into the poisonous side of the flower, ie reader is kinda toxic (snorts), not HORRIBLE but definitely a bit mean... cold.. harsh.. idk we'll see! I usually write these before the actual post skckekc, written on mobile and short, pre game

CWs: none

He's sweet and cheerful, at least prior to gardenview closing... sure he sometimes feels the desire to really take up the spotlight and your attention buuuuuut he's manageable- for now at least

Meanwhile youre... more closed off, you can be a little standoffish and closed off to fellow toons, and you occasionally have the tendency to be a little snappy...

But he thinks you're pretty- elegant, even, and he's definitely going to tell you that he thinks so! Dandy doesn't strike me as the type to be shy- much less shy when he's in love!

Oh he is persistent- it doesn't matter how many times you snap at him, he's going to be back the very next day to try to win you over

In a way it's like never ever getting rid of me from waitress- never watched the musical but the specific song is giving the vibe

Sunny x storm cloud type of dynamic, at least if we're confining this before everything... goes wrong...

He does get a little annoyed and desperate when you don't give him the attention though, pouty usually

He does feel like a total winner when you do reveal you have some feelings for him- he doesn't know the word but you're kind of a tsundere

Basically makes his week

[honeytonedhottie]

HONEY HONEY HONEY I MANIFESTED CLEAR SKIN <3

now normally i don't really get breakouts to begin with bc of genetics but i've been rlly stressed these past few months and bc of that i had 3 nasty ass pimples on my face 😭 i absolutely hated them and it seemed like no matter what i did they just didn't go away

but yesterday i said fuck it let's apply the law and just began affirming to myself "my skin is clear, glistening, and glowing". idk how long i did this for but def for at least 30 mins and then i did it again while doing my nighttime skincare routine + visualizing clear skin while i did it

and guess what??? this morning my fine ass woke up with them GONE!!!! i didn't even notice until i looked in the mirror after my shower but i was stunned i wish i recorded my reaction lmaooo

i've known abt the law for almost 2 years now and this is literally my first real (or at least first positive) manifestation and it was literally so easy 💀 JUST PERSIST BITCHES PERSIST I PROMISE YOU IT WORKSSSS anyways i can't wait to see what else i'm gonna manifest hehe

OMG ANONIE CONGRATULATIONS 🫶🏽💗⭐️ IM SO EXCITED FOR YOU AND IM SO PROUD. UR LITERALLY A MASTER MANIFESTOR. it is really that simple, all u have to do is affirm and persist and thats it. GOOD JOB AND THANK YOU FOR SHARING 👏🏽

[skyward-floored]

first of all HIII HOW YA DOINNN :DD I HOPE UR GOOD YIPPIEEE

second, so i've heArd ur taking requests on ur incredibles au (IAU),, im right?

so in the first place i was going to ask something for Four (cuz Four my baby in every universe), BUT then Hyrule came to my mind, so maybe something about them both?? like, idk the relationship with those two (i'm really sorry if you already said that-), but i'll love to see the boys being bros, like, Four coming home after a bad day at school? idk like so much homework or something?? and then Hyrule comes and says: "yeaaah, you need a hug" or something Hyrule would do in this au

idk i'm not the best at expressing myself ;-;

HI THERE HELLO I’m doing ok at the moment! life has been kind of insane lately but we persist 👍

I tweaked your request just a tiny bit but here’s something with Four and Hyrule! Hope you enjoy it :)

————————————————————

Hyrule looked up from his book as he heard his brothers all troop in, kicking off shoes and backpacks and chattering about the day they’d had at school. Hyrule didn’t mind being homeschooled, but he did like to hear about the stuff that went on in his brothers’ days. Usually he rode along with his mom to pick everybody up and he heard everything then, but they’d needed an extra seat for some reason that Hyrule didn’t remember. Maybe they were dropping somebody extra off? He forgot.

Well long story short, Hyrule had five brothers’ news to catch up on, and he wanted to hear it.

Hyrule set aside his book, finished with the chapter he’d been in the middle of, then got up to grab a snack and listen to the gossip. He’d just made it to the doorway when a hand suddenly snagged his arm, giving it a little tug.

“Oh, hey Four,” Hyrule said, looking down at his little brother who’d suddenly appeared beside him. “You have a good day at school?”

Four shifted his weight, his face half hidden behind both his hair and the hood of his jacket. “Um, sorta. Can... I talk to you? Alone?”

Hyrule blinked. “Uh... sure?”

Four nodded and quickly tugged him down the hall, and Hyrule followed, feeling a mixture of bemused and worried. Why was Four so eager to talk to him? Was something wrong?

Four pulled Hyrule into the laundry room, the thump of the drier running blocking most of the noise from their siblings. It was a good place to go if you didn’t want to be overheard... which only made Hyrule more concerned.

“Okay Four, what’s this about?” Hyrule asked, and Four shifted his weight, then pulled his hood down and brushed back his hair.

Revealing a black eye and swelling up cheek to match.

“Whoa! Four, what happened?!” Hyrule asked in alarm, and Four frantically shushed him, looking around for any of their other siblings. Everyone was still down the hall though, and nobody seemed to have heard him over the drier.

“It’s just a black eye,” Four said awkwardly, and Hyrule got to a knee, carefully taking his cheek into his hand so he could look at it. “Um... can you fix it?”

“Well yeah, I can, but I kinda want to know what happened first,” Hyrule said. “Did someone hit you?”

Four shuffled his feet, looking awkward. “Just some other kids,” he mumbled, messing with his hoodie sleeve. “They were bugging me about my height, and I tried to just leave but they wouldn’t let me and I fought back... not very well.”

“At least you tried,” Hyrule said sympathetically, swallowing back his anger. Why would someone pick on Four? “Here, I’ll see what I can do. Bruises are tricky sometimes, but I’ll do what I can.”

Four nodded, and they both sat down with their backs against the washing machine. Hyrule lightly ran his hand along Four’s cheek and eye, wincing as he studied it. The whole side of Four’s face was beginning to swell, and his eye was mostly closed, the color dark and shiny. His little brother winced as he lightly prodded it, and Hyrule gave him a sympathetic look. Black eyes hurt.

Hyrule drew his healing powers up, lighting a hand in blue, and carefully ran his palm over Four’s cheek again. The swelling began to go down, the bruised color slowly fading with it. Hyrule managed to get it to the point where the bruise was just barely visible and the swelling was mostly gone before he stopped, and he smiled at Four.

“There you go. I did what I could— it’s still a little off, but hopefully nobody will notice too much. I’ll look at it again tomorrow to make sure it’s still good.”

“Thanks ‘rule,” Four sighed, leaning against him. He still seemed glum, and Hyrule fixed some of the hair that was falling from his ponytail.

“Did they hurt you anywhere else?” he asked gently, and Four hesitated, then shook his head.

“Not really. They pushed me around some, but the face was the big thing.” Four sighed. “I wish Dot hadn’t been at the dentist. Nobody messes with her.”

“Really? Nobody?” Hyrule said, and Four nodded his head.

“Yeah, her dad is on the school board,” he replied back with a smirk, and Hyrule chuckled.

Four fell quiet, and Hyrule looked down at him, still feeling worried. He could heal physical injuries, sure, but the emotional part? Hyrule didn’t know how to fix that. And if Four had been bullied... that was more on the emotional side than Hyrule was good at.

Should I go get Twilight? He’s way better at this than me...

Hyrule swallowed. He’d give it a try first.

“So... you didn’t tell anyone else about what happened?” he asked, and Four looked at his lap.

“No. I didn’t want a big fuss, and you know everybody would go on the warpath,” Four said with a sigh. “It wouldn’t help.”

“You can’t let those guys beat you up, though,” Hyrule said. “And if Mom and Dad find out you’re hiding injuries from them...”

“I know, I know. I’d been avoiding them okay up until now,” Four said with a miserable sigh. “I just slipped up today. I’ll be more careful.”

“You’re sure?” Hyrule asked seriously, and Four nodded.

“Sure. And anyway if they try again I know what not to do this time,” Four said with a wave of his hand. Then he winced a little and rubbed his cheek. “I don’t want a fuss.”

Hyrule nodded sympathetically, and Four was silent for a minute, head resting on his shoulder.

“You said they were teasing you about your height?” Hyrule asked quietly, and Four nodded.

“Yeah. And something about being a nerd too, but I think that’s just cause I won the spelling bee last week. I don’t know.” Four sighed and nestled a little closer against him. “...You’re not gonna tell anyone about this, are you?”

Hyrule hesitated. That was a loaded question. “...Not if you don’t want me to. But Four... you can’t just let those guys keep bothering you. You can’t tell a teacher or anything?”

Four squirmed, and fiddled with his hoodie strings. “I mean... I could. I just... everybody always thinks I’m too small to do anything. I want to solve this by myself. I don’t want to be useless,” Four said miserably, and as he shrunk into his jacket, Hyrule felt his stomach sink.

“You’re not useless, Four,” he said softly, and Four grumbled.

“Sure. I’m just tiny and powerless. Those are both useful traits,” he said bitterly.

“Being small doesn’t mean you’re useless, and neither does being powerless,” Hyrule argued. “You’re the smartest kid I know, Four. You’re seven years old and you know almost as much math as Wild does!”

“Well... yeah, but—”

“You won the school-wide spelling bee!”

“Okay but—”

“You made that working model of a catapult that dented the wall when you demonstrated it!”

“Okay okay, I get it,” Four said, face red. “But I still want to fix this myself. Please don’t tell anyone?”

Hyrule looked at him intently, and Four met his gaze, eyes determined and pleading.

Hyrule sighed.

“Okay. I won’t say anything. But if those guys hurt you again, you have to tell Mom and Dad, okay? And if you won’t then I will. I don’t want you to keep getting hurt,” Hyrule said worriedly, and Four agreed with a tiny nod.

“Okay. Thanks Hyrule,” Four said gratefully, giving him a quick squeeze, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Hyrule returned it.

“No problem. I’m glad I could help,” Hyrule said softly. “And... I’m sorry they said those things about you.”

“It’s okay. They were just jerks,” Four mumbled, but he tucked his face a little more against Hyrule’s shirt.

Hyrule patted his back, and they sat there in silence for a little longer, the drier’s steady thuds still blotting out any conversation in the rest of the house. Hyrule still wanted a snack though, especially after healing, so after a little while he gave Four a light poke.

“Want to get some food?” he asked, and Four raised his head and smiled.

“Yeah, I do.”

The two of them finally stood and headed off to the kitchen, and got there just in time to hear Wind’s story about how Tetra had convinced their substitute teacher to let them watch a movie in class.

[fairyminnie444]

Hello! I have a question about manifesting a skill, and i would really love ur advice on it plz.

So Let’s say I’m learning how to draw, so I decide now that I’m the best artist ever. However, when I start drawing, it doesn't turn out the way I want it to or I don’t see any improvement…Should I just continue to affirm and ignore what I drew, telling myself, “Yep, I’m the best artist ever”? Should I proceed normally despite the results?

Whenever I keep drawing and notice that it isn’t meeting my expectations, it leads to me feeling unmotivated. This makes me feel like I need to practice more, which I don’t want to do lol. After all, if I had the skill already, wouldn’t that mean I don’t need to practice at all? For example let’s say I wanted to draw hands and they don't come out the way I wanted … do I just keep going and not practice it? or do I look up how to draw it? lol I feel like looking for help defeats the purpose of practicing since I said I know how to do it.

How can I get myself out of the mindset of feeling the need to practice all the time to "improve"? I'm constantly seeing comments in the art community like, "It's going to take time to get to where I am," or "You need to practice every day for at least 10 minutes to get better."

I think I’m most confused when it comes to the practice part of wanting to manifest a new skill. Bc why would I need to learn if I know everything ? lol. I try not to let the 3d get to me so I’ll usually just put my art book away and then I’ll affirm that I’m the best at it all. It just sucks to feel that unmotivation to grab my book, since I feel like I'm not making any progress and that I have to practice to get better.

I have the same question when it comes to learning how to sing or picking up a new language. For instance, if I say I'm the best singer, what do I do when I don't sound good or not quite how I want? Or if I say I know how to speak all languages but struggle to speak it?

Idk If this is a dumb question or a confusing one but plz help lol I think I’m a little confused! I just wanted to know so I can realize my mistakes so I won’t make them again. I’m so Srry this is a lot 😭. Tysm❤️

Hiii 🩷 this is a good question!

Manifesting a skill (like drawing, singing, or learning a language) involves assuming the identity of someone who already has it. You’re not “faking” it—you’re choosing to step into the version of yourself who possesses that skill effortlessly.

However, when you manifest a skill, you’re not necessarily bypassing the physical expression of it. Your actions and external reality reflect your inner state. If you’re still perceiving yourself as someone who “needs to practice” or “isn’t good enough yet,” the 3D will mirror that back.

How to Handle “Imperfections” in the Process:

• Detach from the result.

If you draw a hand and it doesn’t look perfect, remind yourself: This is just a temporary reflection of my old state. It doesn’t define me now.

• Persist in your belief.

Affirm: I am the best artist ever. My skill flows effortlessly through me. Feel the truth of this, regardless of what the 3D shows.

• Redefine practice.

Instead of seeing practice as “effort to improve,” view it as the natural expression of your skill. In other words, your drawing session isn’t about “getting better” but simply about embodying the artist you already are.

Looking up tutorials or resources doesn’t negate your manifestation. Think of it like this:

If you already believed you were the best artist, would you feel bad about exploring techniques? No, you’d likely feel inspired to refine or try new things—not from a place of lack, but from abundance.

• Shift your perspective:

Instead of thinking, I need to practice to improve, affirm: I am naturally gifted, and I explore art because it’s fun and fulfilling.

• For singing or language:

Similarly, singing exercises or language practice can be seen as a joyful expression of the mastery you already possess, not as a chore to “become good.”

What About Feeling Unmotivated?

When results don’t align with your expectations, it’s easy to feel demotivated. Here’s how to overcome that:

• Refocus on your state of being.

Instead of focusing on how your drawing looks now, focus on how it feels to be the best artist. Feel that confidence and joy.

• Celebrate progress, even if it’s subtle.

Every line you draw, every note you sing, or every sentence you speak is evidence of your chosen identity.

A Practical Example

Let’s take your example of drawing hands:

1. Before drawing, center yourself and affirm: I am an incredible artist. My hands create effortlessly.

2. As you draw, if it doesn’t turn out how you expect, remind yourself: This is temporary; I already have the skill.

3. Choose to enjoy the process. If you feel inspired to look up a hand tutorial, do it from a place of curiosity, not lack.

You’re not forcing yourself to be something you’re not; you’re uncovering the truth of who you’ve decided to be. The 3D will catch up as long as you persist in that state of knowing. Instead of focusing on the “imperfections,” shift your attention to the joy and mastery that already exist within you.

[litmot-archived]

Hii im asking this to a bunch of ‘sakuverse’ creators this and i would love ur input on it.( Also, i’m trying to word this as best as i can so bear with me but) what do u think would have happened if andrew and isaac did stay together and darling still did what they did with the assignment in episode 1? my mind is always changing on this topic because andrew even said it himself (in his latest episode at least) that he believes that him and darling were meant to be. idk im just rambling and im asking a bunch of crumpets this and want to know your take on this. ok byeee❤️‍🩹 (ty for answering)

That is an interesting thought. 

If Isaac and Andrew had stayed together, Darling would not have written the paper at all. Somehow, I believe they would have realized that Andrew was in a relationship.

Still, for the sake of argument, let's say they didn't know and still wrote the paper. Andrew would not be the type to report them but rather ask to meet them in his office and politely reject them, telling them that he was in a dedicated relationship.I think he would tell Isaac about it as well. He would be the type to push Andrew to report it in some way, and when Andrew refuses, I believe he would do an extensive background check on Darling. If they persisted, Isaac would confront them and tell them to back off, perhaps being mildly threatening. 

I think 'meant to be' regarding his relationship with Darling would not extend to breaking up with Isaac to be with them. I feel like if Isaac and Andrew pursued their relationship, they would be content and in love -- they were 'right person, wrong time' after all -- and a break up would be the furthest thing from their mind. Andrew would not even entertain the idea of leaving him, especially because the initial feelings of attraction he had for Darling would not have arisen at all if he was already in a relationship.

More interesting than Andrew is Isaac.

Imagine how different his life would have been if he had stayed with Andrew. Imagine them staying in London. Imagine Isaac being a lawyer, never picking up his grandfather's legacy, never learning about the existence of mythics.

Imagine how much happier he would have been, never getting sucked into this bleak, high-stakes life of being a PI for Asriel's circle and all these important people. Imagine him without the lonely years of longing for company while simultaneously being afraid of letting people get close to him. Imagine him without the feeling of going on autopilot through his own life that accompanied him for years before Pickle made him feel alive again. 

This is a good concept to think about. Thank you for the ask, anon!

[yuwuta]

"the green one" can get on the right day is so funny 😭💀 i like the hc that he could be very creepy and difficult to get rid of if he was a yan-type.

also, you know i was gonna ask, are any of those three home wreakers in ur eyes?

SFKJGAFKGH i’ve had such… tumultuous feelings about izuku since picking up the series 😭 he’s such a crybaby, he’s so beyond cringe-fail it causes actual, physical harm to me, and he’s such a LOSER that it makes me want to SCREAM!!!!! on the other hand…… he’s a crashout and a loser… so….. nothing better than dick from a loser boy who’s got something to prove idkidkidkidk it’s like… i want him… but i don’t… but i feel like i have to have him at least once just to shut him the fuck UP oh my god. like he’s cute, he’s weird, he’s annoyingly persistent, he’s strong, he’s…. i have to squeeze him until his head pops off. i do. i’ve gotta be so strange about him bc there is nothing normal to say 

anyway back to what you asked me, he is so difficult to get rid of as is, so i agree. his will is so strong it’s hard to escape just the thought of him, let alone physically escape him once he’s set his mind to something… he’s… yeah he’s something… honestly, even without any yan tendencies it’s hard to get rid of him 😭

izuku does and doesn’t seem like the home-wrecking type? he seems insatiably jealous at any given moment of the day, whether you’re dating him or not. the only reason this stays relatively hidden is because he’s always teeming with anxiety anyway, so it’s easier to blame his shaking leg and jitters on that, rather than saying he’s been plotting ways to get rid of the person that’s too close to you. however, he also seems like he wants you to come to realization that whoever you’re seeing isn’t good enough for you on your own—he doesn’t mind helping with that, making a slick comment about your date here and there but i would say he’s not a cheater. he won’t ever kiss you or anything while you’re dating someone else, but if he’s gonna be your point of solace whenever your bitch boyfriend does something wrong, then he’s gonna make his opinion known; and if this person really does just suck, he’s probably gonna kick him six ways to sunday, too. there’s something about him that screams he wants to save you, so cheating isn’t the way to do it… and he always wants you to pick him, to come to him.... he’s not a homewrecker but he’s not completely innocent either idk i’m always torn when it comes to him maybe that’s just proof i need to spend more time analyzing him before i open my mouth to speak 

katsuki just doesn’t really… care… LOLL. he’s very… righteous? so if you’re dating somebody else, he won’t really stand in the way of it bc he absolutely will not be to blame for your relationship crashing and burning (he thinks that’s gonna happen all on its own anyway), nor would he want that to be the way to start your relationship with him… but he still doesn’t… care about your boyfriend LOL like he really doesn’t give a fuck, not even in a mean way, just in a… he doesn’t have the time to capacity to get to know or care about this dude. he’s also not going to give way for this guy to take over any space katsuki has already carved out in your life. it’s still going to be katsuki driving you to your doctor’s appointments, and listening to you bitch about the price of concert tickets, and sitting in your hospital room when you get tossed sideways by a villain. if your boyfriend doesn’t like that, then that sucks for him, but katsuki sure as hell isn’t going to pull back just because there’s some new guy in your life. he knows his place in your life is solid, he can’t say the same for anybody else, so there’s really no reason to worry. he and that man are not in competition and katsuki is way too cocky to ever think that they could be 

idk about shoto…………………… his jealousy can get pretty ugly solely because he doesn’t quite know how to deal with it, but on the other hand, idk if i see him acting up about it either. if you, or any of his friends, asked him point blank if he likes your boyfriend, he’d honestly, just blink, and say “no. not really,” and carry on with whatever he’s doing, but he’s not gonna haze the guy either… if your boyfriend is bad to you, that’s another story...

[raisinchallah]

Could you elaborate on the part about carmilla hating and fearing death? been a bit since I read it, but I recall something about her and Laura being present during a funeral of one of her 1-bite-KO victims (while she was feeding on female villagers in order to tide herself over to not bite Laura) and while she was having a panic attack during the hymns she said something about how dying is the best anyone can get actually but I may be misremembering. But in general she seems to be talking about death a lot especially to Laura about dying together like lovers and thus living together forever and girls being caterpillars who die to become butterflies in summer (which could be a sex metaphor in this case tbh)

well im mostly referring to how well none of those girls are one hit kos as you put it they all linger on and die later she feeds like a disease and hates discussing this at least my interpretation of the funeral scene and her conversation with laura who mentions a few other village girls who lingered in in ill health for a few weeks and then died and carmilla cant bear to hear of it there is both the element obviously of her religious repulsion but it persists thru the whole conversation how terrified and miserable she is at just mention of a funeral she also at least puts on the affect of fear or hating hearing about the disease sweeping thru the village tho could be for other reasons such as just wanting to stop talking about it to avoid any suspicion but at least to my eyes compared to most other vampire characters she seems unwilling to confront her actual acts sometimes again this may be an off base interpretation and u know probably has something to do with various portrayals of supernatural women who cannot totally control what they do like lucy in dracula etc idk gotta read christobel too probably that perhaps this is more a gender thing than anything else if ur comparing her to say ruthven and dracula who are u know triumphant in their successes even if they shall also be doomed to perish or disappear whatever… she does love to discuss death this is very true i think its more she holds tension in this you know suppose it also varies peoples interpretation if they assume she is discussing making laura a vampire or not which tbh i dont know if that is the assumption we should be making or not its def less cut and dry of an assumed vampire power than in the post dracula landscape and this changes i guess if she is discussing death as an end or death as a beginning… creates a different concept of permanence of death compared to other vampire stories so idk idk… this is at least my thoughts or explaining why i said such things

[glamfellens]

i was fully prepared to kill Mr Benjamin Gecko with my bare hands 1st time i played FNV.... then he started talking shit about the ncr, whom i did not care for, and i was like. hm. okay. perhaps i shall keep you.

somehow this endearingness was so strong it persisted after he tried and failed to kill me a second time (mr gecko did u not perhaps consider how me crawling outta my grave and crossing the wasteland solely to kick ur ass would mean it'd take more than 4 guys to take me down. ur supposed to be smart)

somehow he is just The Most Guy to ever Guy and i can't be mad at him. its like when ur cat throws up on ur carpet and then looks at u with big sad wet eyes. its okay little man. no crucifixion today x

i would like to preface this with "no crucifixion today x" fucking sent me. thank u for giving me a sensible chuckle this evening benny is just kind of like that. i think at the very least his persistence should be commended, he really did try his hardest to kill the courier. unless he of course slept with them, which is like. well. idk how to explain that one away. he was not thinking with his upstairs brain on that one lmao. benny new vegas is endlessly compelling for me. but he is also a wet little guy. a pet guy, if you will. i'll put him in my purse and carry him around

[crguang]

childhood friends to anything else is actually so important to me. like childhood friends to strangers w some level of unrequited love? like idk the your absence shaped me in ways your presence couldn't? is always so ugh, like the bittersweet stuff if they ever meet again and one of them is so changed in their time apart and it'll just never be like that again. was rereading some greek myths, the tragedy and like lost opportunity and the yearning is always amazing. but like that au fits so well w kafka, i was thinking abt it and the au also kind of reminded me of the one from folklore, like if you wanted me you really should have showed and if you never bleed you're never gonna grow, but we were smth don't you think so. but also im being kind jumping the gun and being self indulgent rn like what if come back...be here from red. like "told myself don't get attached but in my mind I play it back," if I had know what I know now I never would've played no nonchalant," idk...

ok I saw ur posts abt cheryl having like inconsistencies, and like a slight southern accent, but i personally don't hear it. speaking from experience when I open the game but accidentally just listens to kafka's voicelines (I still smile every time, i even still giggle sometimes, smth is very wrong w me), but idk abt more recent stuff. i also just don't like southern accents, so I might be in denial. and yeah there's barely any fics w her nowadays (she needs to come back fr), but also your kafka is just like...the best. revolutionary in fact, like you get her so bad.

-🌠

ANONNNN I LITERALLY LISTEN TO THE 1 WHENEVER I THINK ABOUT THAT AU… ITS THEM. “i persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had bene different, would everything be different today?” and “in my defense, i have none for never leaving well enough alone, but it would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one” IS SO KAFKA STILL REMINISCING A DECADE LATER. folklore is a must whenever i write them, you should listen to seven as well it’s my favorite song from the album and captures the innocence of childhood so well. i was never a childhood friends to lovers fan but they changed my perspective fr. the bittersweetness is killing meee i cant handle this angst of grieving both what could’ve been and what has been, i just want my girl happy😞 when the person you’re missing is right in front of you but not there at the same time how do you even process that. you should watch the movie past lives they’re literally that movie to me

i dont hear the southern accent either, in my opinion she just sounds lazy/bored at times but maybe it’s cause im not attuned to all the subtleties in her pronunciation so perhaps there are traces of it and i just dont hear it😭 i also still giggle whenever she says the “thanks, you’re too good to me” healing voice line hdjsnfnfjfjggjjdjdhd cause i am too good to her actually. also “oh, bye bye~” will always get me idccc she sounds so cute im gonna die like that’s my baby

i should go scout ao3 for kafka fics its the only platform i havent gone through yet, tumblr fics just tend to be short and sweet thats why i like it there but there’s nothing lately oh my days we’re in a drought. at least we still have artists😣

[flowercrowngods]

is it too invasive to ask about ur particular brand of pains and tireds?

oh love you can always ask i’m a person with virtually no feeling for tact so invade all you want lmao but i wish i had an answer. at least the tireds i know stem from me being in stress overdrive bc i‘m currently doing a 4week teaching practicum and i know i‘m not gonna be a teacher, just gonna finish this degree so i’m in this limbo of “i don’t care about this i don’t wanna be here i hate everything about it” but also i gotta deliver and at least try to hold a passable class and also get up at ass o’clock and take public transport across the whole entire town and i just. i’m the world’s most tiredest little boy fr

and the pains idk they’re just persistent but worse lately (prolly a stress response). especially migraine like symptoms today like pain above my left eye, vision on my left eye being funky and fucky, being dizzy with vertigo every once in a while. but also it’s resting in my forearms a lot today to the point where i had to take some pain killer bc i just refused to like deal with that shit like babygirl i don’t deserve the pains 😔

i should probably see someone about all that but oh well only gonna fuck around and not find out

[gillgmesh]

Hi. So I saw your post and just wanted to give my two cents as someone who is working on overcoming the fear of failure as well. Idk how helpful my message will be but it's something that helped me. Basically it's just accepting that failure is a part of life. I'm a writer and as I was told by professors rejection is a part of being a writer. And that might not seem helpful or like... obviously failure is a part of life that's why I'm afraid of it. But honestly it helps to know that u aren't the only one failing. Everyone fails at some point failure is not a character flaw on ur part. It's just part of the cycle particularly when trying new things. U just have to decide what's more important to u. Doing the thing or regretting not doing the thing bc you're scared to fail. That's something that motivates me to send things out like am I more afraid of getting the (more than likely) rejection email that i can delete as soon as I read I didn't get it or is my work more important to me. Eventually you'll see that it's actually doing the thing that outweighs the fear and soon u get used to it. So good luck and hope this was at least a tiny bit useful/helpful

This is actually a really interesting perspective, one that I often forget when getting stuck inside my own head way too often.

There are definitely things I want to try and do, and the idea of accomplishing them makes me very excited! While the anxiety is still there... I think grounding myself in knowing that failure isn't an experience I alone experience, in a way is a good motivator to keep trying and persisting.

Thank you so much for sharing. I appreciate your time and words!

[unfilteredrealities]

Life Update

today is such a shitty day.

first i woke up confused what day it is and the second i realised i have a body i felt that today is a bad flare day...

then i stayed in bed for a while until i was able to get out of bed

my anxiety is crippling me since a week now and its like more than the baseline anxiety i experience, its to the point im on the verge of panic attacks but im glad im catching it in time to ground before it escalates but im sure i wont be able to catch all of them before

managed to put laundry to wash bcs i was postponing that for a while and i was running low on clean clothes and underwear and socks so it was needed.

lunch was ok i guess

then i was eepy from lunch and fell asleep

woke up in the afternoon and hung up the laundry but before that i tried to comfort my mom bcs she is currently sick and she was annoyed she cant be active and go to the farmers market to buy fresh veggies and all that and i told her this whole last week she was very active bcs her body working hard to heal her from the bronchitis she has and i guess she calmed down.

then she went back to bed , i hung the laundry , ended up having a pots episode and a meltdown and started to cry and dissociate for a while rocking on the 100 year old rocking chair we have until i snapped out and finished hanging up the laundry but the last 3 clothing pieces i just threw on the drying rack bcs i had zero spoons and fucks to give

went back to bed and cried

ordered food bcs mom asked me to order pizza for dinner so i did

all good, food was nomnom

then i played some fortnite idk how i am still decent even if i didnt play in a long while still managed to get to 4th place

now i am blasting music into my ears with my skullcandy headphones that have extra bass to decompress my silly brain.

missing my partner a lot but im counting the days down till vacation soon and me being able to see him for almost 2 weeks.

super worried tho bcs my chronic illnesses are cursed as fuck lately and i do not like that...idk how im gonna be able to walk lot, not have pots episodes, 24/7 pain, fatigue and stuff...

at least i have a collapsible walking cane to help me.

i realized im still not able to accept im fucked health wise and i cant function the way i used to in the past where i had no issues with walking, doing many things, no heart issues etc.

now i have to think if i have the spoons to go in my lunch break at work to the store or no

if i can take the bus back home or not bcs if too full i have to stand and i will faint if standing too long due to pots and feeling like im doing a plank but while standing

i feel ashamed im taking an uber to work and back home nowadays instead of walking 25-30min (like 1.5km which is not much at all and in the past i had no issues walking that distance) im daily scared that the drivers will judge me for taking an uber. Cab drivers would have filled an imaginary fridge with lots of swearing if i would have gotten one for that distance...

but alas im using uber since 3 years to get to work, 2 1/2 years i either walked partially or took the bus i guess..

today i feel like giving up bcs of my own hardships

bcs of life events and me hating how fucked the world is

bcs why am i even persisting staying alive

i noticed that at work im less talkative, only if its needed like talkative in the sense when we dont have calls bcs when clients call i unfortunately have to speak to them so yeah but besides of that im less haha hihi shenaningans...a coworker noticed im less talkative but i was like just tired all good (like i didnt lie im tired but its not the normal tired)

anyway idk where i wanted to go with this.

sorry for the long word vomiting

stay safe, ur loved and valid and im rooting for ya!!!!

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

buy that loud incorrect buzzer my guy. Do it. You're not being entitled by just wanting your coworker to refer to you with the correct pronouns, that's basic decency, and if you have to clicker train them like teaching a dog a new trick then so be it!

As a he/they that's fully in the closet at work i get not wanting to correct people out of fear/discomfort... i get it so much man.. The discomfort and unease is real and it's infused in the space like a stench in the walls. The sucking up to cis people is the mind killer.

But the fact that they do it for your manager at least show they CAN do it. Extremely bittersweet small comfort but still the seed is there. I really do hope you get your coworker to gender you correctly and properly, you deserve that. And if they still dont then idk you'll have to start wearing they/them pin that get bigger and bigger everytime they look away

(hope ur feeling better today btw 💚)

thanks so much for this ask ben!! i am feeling much better about things :) i will continue to persist in getting people to gender me correctly 🫡

[thelostdisaster82]

So once again ……

It all makes sense! From the white sand in my bed and only my side of the bed sheets comforter and mattress and pillows all wet the water next to the bed every time I get up in the middle of the night. My neighbor who knows a bunch of useless knowledge or at least pretends he does,. To me when they get talking I tone them out but for some reason there are few things my brain remembers….

1.“dry drowning.”

(When this airway closure happens and no water goes into your lungs, that’s technically dry drowning, explains Dr. Milk. “The injury happens from a lack of air and asphyxiation.”)

2. reflex called a laryngeal spasm.

3. Pulmonary edema

(causes you to have trouble breathing or experience frightening sensations like shortness of breath and chest tightness. “Liquid, or fluid, is actually in your airway,” he continues. “You’re kind of drowning in your own fluid, even though you’re not in the water.”)

4. Heavy, persistent coughing.

Shortness of breath or trouble breathing.

Fever

Dry mouth or foaming at mouth

Skin discoloration

So my neighbor old roommate was at his house grant u we haven’t seen her in few months since we had falling out bcuz I’m pretty sure she was screwing my husband . I called her out on it and she quit coming around or speaking to us. Or me at least I thought.

When we went over there she pops off with

Drowning would be a shitty way to die. I mean u just can’t breathe screw that. … i mean the cops done took my truck spray it down looking for blood on it couldn’t pin shit on us anyhow so fuck it!

My husband like ya hahaha

My neighbor says right then …

My neighbor starts going on about pulmonary edema Heavy, persistent coughing. Shortness of breath… their lungs fill up and they just quit breathing. Your lungs stop functioning correctly.

Idk wth the whole conversation ever came from bout drowning or anything and I was just completely flabbergasted.

And it hit me like a ton of bricks today.

My husband always telling me he gonna kill me and make it look like accident.

This would be exactly that. Im not a smoker yet when I walk from bedroom to bathroom im outta breathe my skin color has been off kinda grayish white and I feel like I’ve got something stuck in my throat all the time and I can’t seem to drink enough and Always have extremely dry mouth. Fevers on and off and the absolutely worst headache of my life and my legs and stomach and face are swollen.

The sad part is I just don’t fucking understand why someone who has done absolutely everything I could possibly do for him and yet he would want to hurt me like that? Craziness! It breaks my whole heart. Why would he do that to me? I know the other two people are fucked up sick twisted mf who I still ain’t scared of. Any man that has to sleep with pistol on his chest has some pretty fucked up demons and he says he shoots when they run well coward if ur gonna shoot me ur gonna look at me when u do it cuz I am not afraid to die….do me a favor but knowing the person u love would devise a plan like that? And as far as the fat bitch….I thought u was my friend but all u are is left overs has beens …with bleached out crotch panties….leave that shit at ur own house oh that’s right ……u don’t have one u lost it! I used to feel sorry for u but now I know why ur best friend friend fucked ur bf it’s called karma for doing the same to someone who didn’t even know ur ass yet I made ur bf look like bitch n took ur truck back left him on side of gas station looking like Edna bcuz u had to move out and he had taken ur truck. But it’s all good ! U will always be third wheel in ur threesomes…mf laugh at u bout ur sad notes u wrote them bout being third wheel … but my own husband to stoop down to this is beyond me. Gag is up Check mate mfs u lose….I’ll always be smarter than u! Not to mention I am Not a Holy person but I’m perfectly protected by my God! So kick rocks and eat fish heads…if something happens to me they know where to go!