#because this is the thing this week asking at 6am for food

[banshee-puella]

Sometimes I love my cat so much it' hard to breathe and sometimes I want to yeet her to the sun and it takes EVERYTHING IN ME to not doing it.

[corroded-hellfire]

Merry and Bright - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with the marshmallows to my hot chocolate @munson-blurbs 💝

Summary: It's Eliza's first Christmas, and even though she may not have a clue what's going on, the rest of the Munson family have fun introducing her to their traditions.

Note: Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Festivus, and have a safe and cheerful whatever it is you celebrate!

Words: 4.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Eliza’s usual 6am feeding has you and Eddie awake before the boys on Christmas morning for the first time ever. Their 11-week-old sister has them beat for the earliest riser this holiday. 

Both of you sleepy-eyed as usual, you and Eddie slip into your daughter’s nursery and close the door behind you so her cries don’t wake her brothers. As soon as she sees you, she calms down because she knows the routine by now. You show up when she cries? Eliza gets food. 

You walk over and peer into her crib, Eddie stepping up behind you and slipping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Eliza’s tears dry as she stares up at you and her father, her eyes wide like his. 

“Merry Christmas, Eliza,” Eddie says. 

“Happy first Christmas, sweetheart,” you echo. 

She clearly has no idea what you’re saying, but the way she’s looking at you makes you think that she’s thinking: Why are you just standing there smiling at me? Did you not hear the crying? Do you not know what time it is? Where is my food, lady?

You pick her up, clad in her green pajamas dotted with snowflakes and Santa Claus on them. The very same pajamas you, Eddie, Ryan, and Luke are all wearing. When you came up with the idea of matching family pajamas, you weren’t entirely serious until the boys backed you up. Whether they were truly into it or were just going along because they knew their dad would hate it, you have no idea. But Eddie grumbled and agreed, and once it’s just the two of you, declared that you are the only person in the whole world that he would do this for. 

Eddie goes to the window and pulls back the pink curtains with the white polka dots while you settle into the rocking chair with your baby. 

“Wow,” Eddie says as he looks outside. “It must’ve snowed the whole night. Everything is white.”

“Hear that, Eliza?” you coo as she begins to drink. “Your very first Christmas is a white Christmas. I think your brothers are going to have some fun outside later. Maybe we’ll go out and join them.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at you. “Does she have enough clothes to layer up and go outside in this?”

“Enough clothes?” you ask with a chuckle. “Between the baby shower, Max and Nancy giving us some of their old baby clothes, and what we and the boys bought? I think she has enough layers to look like the Michelin Man.”

“Oh, but look at those rolls,” Eddie says in that baby-talk that’s pretty rare for him. He grins and kneels down next to the two of you in the rocker. “She already looks like the Michelin Man.”

There’s no denying Eliza’s rolls around her wrists and knees and ankles are absolutely the most adorable thing ever. And there is most definitely a long list of adorable things about Eliza. 

Once Eliza is done eating, you burp her—and she gives you one her father is quite proud of—and change her diaper, then you head out into the hallway and it’s time to wake the boys. 

Eddie walks into Luke’s room and heavily plops down on the mattress, making the ten-year-old bounce. He’s usually a pain to wake up in the morning, but Christmas is an exception. 

Luke rouses with a sleepy laugh and rubs at his eyes. “Present time?” he asks.

“I dunno,” Eddie casually replies, shrugging his shoulders as though the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “You think Santa came this year? I haven’t checked the tree yet.”

“And why wouldn’t he come?” you ask from the doorway, holding Eliza. Luke glances over at you and grins; you return his gesture in a silent I’ve got your back. 

Eddie, meanwhile, is dead set on provoking him. “Oh, come on,” he scoffs, “Luke had to have made the naughty list.”

Luke playfully lunges at his dad, who catches him and swings him over his own body to let his son land on the floor. 

“Nice try,” Eddie says. “But you’ll never beat me.”

When you let out a snort of laughter from where you’re standing, Eddie raises his eyebrows at you. 

You innocently raise your shoulders and walk across the hall to Ryan’s room. He’s a bit easier to wake up than his younger brother, though he’s started to fit the teenage stereotype of sleeping in late.  

“Oh my God, it snowed! A lot!” you hear Luke shout from his room, which makes you chuckle. “It’s like Antarctica!”

You can practically hear Eddie playfully rolling his eyes. “Yeah, bud. We’ll see a penguin waddle by in a sec.”

Ryan is already awake from all the chaos. He’s slightly grumpy from his unconventional wake-up call, but he smiles as soon as he stumbles into the hallway and scoops Eliza from your arms. 

“Merry Christmas, baby sis!” he coos. You notice that his pajamas barely reach his ankles even though you’d only bought them a few weeks ago. “You ready to see what Santa brought this year?”

As anticipated, Eliza says nothing, but you unanimously agree that she’s excited for presents. 

The five of you head to the family room to see multiple gift piles under the meticulously decorated tree. 

Luke points at the biggest pile near the front, blue eyes wide. “Who’s that for?”

“Eliza,” you tell him as you ruffle his curls. “Mostly from you and Ryan, I’d wager.” 

The boys had wanted to spoil their new sister with heaps of presents; you had to continually remind them that she’ll quickly grow out of any clothes and won’t be playing with toys for a few more months. Eddie had to keep reminding them that they were technically spending his money on the baby. He’d found it nearly impossible to say no to them, his heart swelling with pride that he’d raised such thoughtful—if not rambunctious—young men. 

Luke and Ryan get down on the floor, while you and Eddie sit down on the couch with the baby. 

“So, this is how we do it, Eliza,” Luke tells his sister, as if she will grasp any of what he’s saying. “Ryan picks up a present, reads who it’s to and from, then he gives it to me, and I give it to whoever’s it is.” It’s a tradition they’d started before Luke learned how to read, but it’s stuck throughout the years. 

Eliza lets out a few puffs of air that Luke takes as confirmation that she understands.  

“She gets me,” he says simply.

“Or,” Eddie teases, “she can’t tell which one of you is Ryan and which one of you is Luke in these ridiculous matching pajamas.” 

The four of you take turns opening Eliza’s presents for her. Each time a new one is opened you try to get her attention to show it to her, but she rarely cares. Eddie’s curls start to be more of interest to her than anything anyone else is doing. 

Whenever Luke or Ryan open them for her, they get really excited and hype their sister up about whatever it is that she got.

“Wow, Eliza! Look at this dress!” Luke says as he picks it up and shows her. “It has Princess Ariel on it! I bet you’re going to love the princesses.”

“Ooh, Eliza! Look at these!” Ryan shakes the oversized keyring with the pastel-colored plastic keys hanging from it. “You can drive Dad’s car with these.”

“I’d let her drive it before I let either of you two menaces behind the wheel.”

Eventually, Eliza’s pile is depleted, and the boys open their own presents. Ironically, they were more enthused for Eliza’s, though their new Game Boys are an absolute hit. There was eventually a gift that Eliza seemed to be enthralled with though. The only thing that really caught her attention was the shininess of a new watch that Eddie got from Luke. She wanted to put it directly in her mouth, but Eddie stopped her as Luke warned that he wasn’t sure if it was water proof or not. 

Once presents are done, Eddie cleans up the variety of wrapping paper while you dress Eliza in her Christmas candy cane outfit. This outfit Eddie picked out. It seemed only fair since you practically forced him into the pajamas. 

It’s nap time for Eliza, so you settle her down while the boys go through their new gifts. The clothes they received only got a once over while the toys and video games were more heavily scrutinized. 

After Luke makes his rounds through his toys, he notices how much snow has built up on the ground.

“Daaaaad!”

“Whaaaat?” Eddie mimics as he walks in the room.

Luke walks over and gives his dad an over the top smile—a telltale sign that he wants something.

“Wanna go play in the snoooow?”

Eddie pretends to consider the question even though he’s been waiting for one of the boys to ask all day. He’s still a kid at heart and has been dying to get out there and mess around. 

“I guess I could go for kicking your asses in a snowball fight.”

“Luke and I can take you, old man!” Ryan says.

“Two against one? Huh. Babe? Wanna come be on my team?”

“Sorry, hot stuff,” you say as you stroll in from the kitchen. “Then who would be here to get little Miss Eliza up from her nap and get her all bundled up for the snow?”

Eddie suddenly looks a bit more serious. “She’s going to have to have a lot of layers.”

“Really? Because I was going to bring her out in just her diaper.” You can’t help but chuckle at Eddie’s protectiveness and lean up to press a kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry. She’ll have so many layers she’ll look like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”

The three men get all layered up and you get comfortable in a cozy chair near the window with a mug of hot chocolate to watch their shenanigans unfold. The boys go to one side of the yard and start making snowballs while Eddie goes to the other side. Your husband makes a little snow barrier that he can crouch behind before he starts making his snowball supply. 

“Teach these kids to call me old,” he mumbles to himself. 

Eddie quickly throws a snowball that hits the back of Luke’s head before he ducks back behind his wall. Eddie tries to control his laughter, but it keeps coming out in hot puffs of breath that he can see float away from his mouth.

“What the?!” Luke shouts, looking all around. “How’d he do that?”

Eddie chuckles to himself as he creates more ammunition. These amateurs. 

You look on in amusement as the three of them commence in all-out war. Eddie clearly gets the better of them, which you can tell he’s secretly proud of. Or not-so-secretly as he sticks his tongue out at them and taunts them. You’d swear you were the one in this relationship who is older by a decade, not him. 

After a while of running around, your sons and husband fall into a pile in the middle of the yard, obviously tired from so much exertion. You giggle as you watch them try and catch their breaths; Luke literally reaching up with his gloved hands to swipe at the condensation his huffing and puffing is causing. 

Luke is the first one up and starts tugging on his dad’s coat sleeve to pull him up too. Ryan is the next one up, then finally Eddie. It takes you a couple of minutes to figure out what they’re doing at first. It looks like they’re just moving piles of snow around with no rhyme or reason. 

Just as you’ve put together that they’re trying to build an igloo, you hear Eliza’s cries coming from her room. You get up from your warm cocoon on the chair and wander into Eliza’s nursery where she’s whining for attention.

“What’s all the fuss about?” you ask as you scoop her up. “It’s Christmas. Didn’t anyone tell you there’s no crying on Christmas?”

Eliza’s only response is a tiny sneeze that makes you giggle.

“God bless you. Now, let’s see how many layers of clothes we can put on you before you’re as good as bubble wrapped.”

When you open the back door, both you and your daughter bundled up tightly against the cold, the igloo looks like it had some architectural issues. Eddie pushes himself off the ground and comes over to the two of you. 

“Look at my girls. So cute in all your layers.” He presses a kiss to your nose, which gives you a shiver.  

“Your lips are freezing!” you exclaim, scrunching your face. 

“What do you expect?” Eddie asks with a laugh. “Igloo construction is very serious work that can only be done in these dire weather conditions.”

A few snowflakes fall onto Eliza’s pale pink coat, and she blinks at them in confusion before they melt away. 

“How is the construction crew doing?” you ask, nodding to the boys and their building, snow stuck to their gloves like Velcro. 

“Some structural problems,” Eddie shrugs. “Definitely inhabitable, but I don’t have the heart to break it to them.” He brushes his gloves onto his jacket and holds his arms out towards Eliza. “Come here, you.”

He takes her, snuggling her to his chest, and walks over to where the boys are working tirelessly. Crouching down, he lets Eliza’s legs hang down so her booted up little feet are on the snowy ground.  

“Hey, ‘Liza,” Luke chirps. “We’re making a house out of snow.”

“It’s not going too well,” Ryan adds under his breath. 

His brother scowls. “She doesn’t know that!” he hisses. 

Eliza’s eyes track the snowflakes falling down around her. 

“You like the snow, huh?” Eddie asks her, kissing the tiniest sliver of exposed forehead beneath her fuzzy hood. 

A chunk of the attempted igloo comes off in Ryan’s hands and he lets out a defeated sigh. “You wanna try some snow?” he asks Eliza just as you walk over to join them. He breaks off the snow into a small chunk and holds it up near Eliza’s lips. She only stares at it for a second before Eddie helps her lean in and she opens her mouth, just as she does when she’s trying to eat. 

The moment the coldness touches her lips, Eliza turns her head and curls her hands towards her face, making the rest of you laugh.

“Cold, huh?” Ryan chuckles, tossing aside the snow that Eliza hasn’t consumed. 

“All right,” Eddie says as he stands up, shifting his daughter in his arms. “I don’t know about you boys, but my butt is pretty numb. What do you say we head inside?”

Both boys whine, even though you can tell by their chattering teeth that they’re getting a bit cold themselves. 

“How’s hot chocolate sound?” you add.

That gets both boys up and headed towards the back door. Eddie walks ahead of you with Eliza, and you shuffle towards him so you can whisper in his ear. 

“If you can’t feel your ass, maybe I could feel it for you?” Your lips curl into a smirk. 

Eddie turns to face you. “Why, Mrs. Munson, how very naughty of you.” His kiss lingers in a way that tells you to expect a special gift the moment you two are truly alone. 

It takes a few minutes for everyone to peel off their wet clothes. Eddie and Ryan work on throwing the snow-soaked pants and socks into the dryer while you recruit Luke to help a freshly warmed Eliza into her swing in the living room so you can make hot chocolate. 

Luke buckles the straps over Eliza’s red and white outfit and turns the swing on the lowest setting. It gently sways her back and forth from left to right, which is usually her favorite thing in the world, but her tiny cries warn that she is not amused. 

“Hey, what’s the whining about?” Luke asks, frowning at his fussy sister. 

Eliza squeals and throws her little arms up as much as she’s able to as though purposely acting in defiance. 

Luke immediately springs into action. “No, no!” He scrambles for an idea. “Here, watch me, Eliza!”

He starts to do an overexaggerated jig in front of her and sings I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.

“I want a hippopotamus for Christmas. Only a hippopotamus will do. I don't want a doll, no dinky Tinkertoy. I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy!”

Eliza stops her crying and just stares at her older brother as he continues his impromptu performance. 

“I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs. Oh, what joy and what surprise. When I open up my eyes to see my hippo hero standing there!”

Watching the mini concert from the kitchen, you notice that Eliza is mesmerized by her brother; the look on her face reads, “what the hell are you doing?”, but you’re not going to question whatever it is that’s quieted her down—even if it means being subjected to one of the most irritating holiday songs in existence. 

“I want a hippopotamus for Christmas. Only a hippopotamus will do. No crocodiles, or rhinoceroseses. I only like hippopotamuseses. And hippopotamuses like me too!”

Successfully distracted, the baby makes spit bubbles and flaps her arms. Luke feels that he’s done his job, and he gives a small bow. 

Luke finishes imagining the applause his baby sister so obviously wants to give him when Eddie comes into the living room carrying two mugs full of steaming hot chocolate.

“Hey, Timberlake. Here’s your drink.”

You and Ryan are right behind him as you carefully balance your own drinks, giggling at each other as you check on one another’s progress from the corner of your eyes. It’s almost a game to see if one of you will spill a few drops before the other.

Luke plops down in the chair you had been sitting in while watching the boys outside and Ryan settles in on the loveseat. You take advantage of your husband sitting alone on the couch to cuddle up to his side. Eddie settles one arm over your shoulders and brings his Metallica mug to his lips with his other hand. Taking care to hold your “Meowy Christmas” mug dotted in adorable kittens in both of your hands, you rest your head on his shoulder. Your eyes admire the cup that Luke gave you last year for Christmas before they drift over to your daughter comfortably rocking in her swing. 

Her large eyes move from family member to family member, as if wondering what you’re all doing. You imagine her holding her own little mug-shaped bottle to join in with the rest of you and you let out a soft giggle at the thought.

“What, baby?” Eddie asks softly.

“Nothing,” you say with a shake of your head. “Just look at our little girl. Watching all of us.”

Eddie smiles when he looks over and his daughter’s gaze locks on his. He feels as if one more ounce of happiness was pumped into his heart it would explode. The room is still and quiet, but Eliza continues to look on as the four of you warm up by drinking the confectionary delight. 

By the time the four of you have emptied your mugs, Eliza is fast asleep in her swing. Eddie presses a kiss to your temple, and you take his empty cup as he rises to his feet. He walks over, slowly stops the rocking, and scoops Eliza up. She lets out a little sigh as Eddie resituates her in his arms; her classic sign of contentment when she knows she’s safe in her daddy’s care. He carries the sleeping infant into her room and lays her down in her crib. 

“Sweet dreams, sweet pea.”

An hour later, the buzzer rings. 

Wayne’s on the other side of the door, two pizza boxes in hand. Since Eliza is still so little and requires almost all of your energy, there isn’t a fancy meal this year, but no one seems to mind. 

The Munson patriarch sets the food on the table, opening the boxes to reveal pepperoni & green peppers atop each pie. “Christmas colors,” he announces proudly. 

Eddie pops a Christmas album into the CD player as you all gather around the table and eat. By some miracle, Luke and Ryan manage to take their slices without fighting over the bigger one, and you thank your lucky stars. 

No sooner do you sit down and lift your own slice to your lips, Eliza’s cry bleats through the baby monitor. You instinctively start to stand, but Wayne puts a gentle hand out to stop you. 

“I got it,” he assures you, walking into the room where Eliza lays in her crib. 

“You’re the cutest candy cane I’ve ever seen!” you hear him exclaim as he lifts her to carry her back out to the kitchen.

He takes his seat next to Luke, who holds his slice in the baby’s direction, a glob of sauce plopping onto the floor. 

“Eliza, you want some pizza?” He pretends to bring it to her mouth before he pulls back and cackles. “Aahh, just kidding!”

The tiny baby manages to stay awake for the entirety of dinner, but by the end of dessert, she’s starting to get cranky again. 

When it’s time to clear the table, Eddie stands up and stretches his arms high over his head. And so what if your gaze drifted to the pale expanse of his stomach that it showed? 

“Come on, men,” Eddie says. “Let’s get this place looking ship-shaped.”

“You sure you weren’t the one in the military?” Wayne asks with a husky laugh. He hands you the baby who is only getting fussier by the second.

“I think it’s time for some jammies,” you say as you hold her against your chest. Her whines and whimpers in return sound like a disagreement, so you can only imagine what her backtalk will be like when she can speak. 

“Not fair,” Luke says with a huff as you move to leave the dining room. You turn around and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What’s not fair?” you ask.

“You don’t have to clean,” he says as he picks up the bowl of mashed potatoes that is now so empty it looks as if it’s been licked clean. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was, honestly. 

“Do you want to try and get Miss Crankypants into her pajamas? Then to bed?” you ask.

“No,” Luke admits with a groan and brings the empty dishes into the kitchen.

“That’s what I thought,” you say to Eliza as you carry her down the hall to her room. 

It’s time for the annual tradition of watching Charlie Brown’s Christmas, but Eliza still hasn’t gone to sleep. You’re not sure how long you’ve been trying to soothe her to sleep, but it feels like it’s been hours. You tell the guys to start watching it without you as you start to walk throughout the house with your fussy daughter in your arms. The rocking motion of walking tends to have a calming effect on her. Hasn’t worked so far, but it’s worth another shot.

“Come on, sweetie,” you beg her. “You had a big day. You must be so tired.”

She continues her protests, so you hold her closer to your chest, her green elf pajamas soft in your hands. On your fourth lap of the house, you pass by the living room again but there’s music coming from the television this time.

Eliza stops her fussing at the sound. The scene ends and Eliza starts to act up again, so you take another lap around the house. Once more back at the living room, there’s music and again she calms down. 

“Hmm…” you hum to yourself.

Testing your theory, you sit at the edge of the couch and keep your firm hold on Eliza. The music continues as Eliza calms all the way down. This time, she’s calmed enough that you can sit back on the couch and enjoy the show with your family. Every time a scene with music comes on, Eliza gets happier and even gives you a smile that you’re pretty sure had nothing to do with gas.

“You like the music, huh?” you ask your daughter softly. 

“Making her daddy proud,” Eddie says, throwing a wink your way. 

Not much later, Eliza falls asleep, and it allows you to watch the rest of the program with your family. When it’s time for bed, the boys each get up and press a soft kiss to their sister’s forehead. Once they’ve gone to brush their teeth, you bring Eliza into her room, Eddie right behind you. You gently lay her down and Eddie snakes his arms around your waist from behind. Both of you look down at your daughter, her little pink lips parted as her chest moves up and down with her steady breathing. The soft downy hairs on her head are starting to get a curl to them and you smile at the thought of her having hair like your husband.

Eddie presses a kiss to your cheek and rests his chin on your shoulder so he can look down at the sleeping girl as well.

“We made a cute baby,” Eddie says softly.

“The cutest,” you agree. 

[bugsbia]

Wanderer having a fat crush on gender neutral reader

BEFORE READING: okay this is just some 6am fluff, I haven’t slept at all and just wanted to ramble about scara being soft so this won’t be very well written, but it’s not horrid.🩷

just fluff, big time fluff

You came into his life unexpectedly, incredibly unexpectedly since he never really intended to form any close bonds anytime soon for the fear of abandonment still lingered within his heart. He couldn’t help it though, something about you just grabbed his attention and intrigued him. He didn’t even truly understand his own feeling at first, a crush wasn’t exactly something he’d had yet in his 500 years of life.

You didn’t jump at the chance to talk to him at first since he had quite the reputation for being cold and distant, but he slowly made is way into your life. Coincidently finding you in the library as you studied and offering to help, he’s awfully smart for a man who looks no older than 23. It amazed you to a degree, but it also came off as a little obnoxious, he would definitely cut you off with an “Uhm actually”.

You two sort of became friends after these little study sessions happened a few times, waving and saying hi whenever you’d cross paths, sometimes he’d even give you food under the pretence of “having cooked too much” when in reality he just wanted to cool something up for you. He liked the way you’d look so happy to have a nice meal during your studies, it was a joy he never truly got to experience and seeing you get to experience it felt as if it was healing his heart a little.

He slowly began to touch you, not in a weird way, just small gestures. Hands brushing against eachother, light pats on the back or putting a hand on your shoulder as he watched over your shoulder at whatever task you were up-to. He began holding onto your hand to take you places, playing it off as simply not wanting to lose you in such a busy city such a sumeru. I’m reality he just liked the way it felt, the way your hands so easily fit together, how your fingers intertwined. You didn’t seem to mind it either, so he never stopped, but he would have if you asked him too.

You both grew accustomed to these touches, your hands remaining intertwined long beyond what was truly needed, he’d let his hand linger sometimes at the small or your back whenever you’d be stand by each-others side. At some point during this you realised your growing feelings for him, the way your heart would flutter and stomach would knot when you felt his hand on you, the way you’d feel a little giddy when he held onto your hand. It also made you feel special, this man was known by students of the academia for being a no non-sense person who rarely even paid attention to anyone, but he was here with you, showing you these affections that would have students spitting out their drinks.

He tried to hide his adoration for you behind a thin lie, saying he was merely being nice and only doing these things because you so clearly liked it. He knew the truth though, he was just scared to admit it, worried you’d run for the hills, disappear the way those of his past did if you found out he truly adored you, the way you smiled, the way you laughed, everything about you. He didn’t want to risk the friendship.

He would often go to Nahida for advice for you, grumbling and mumbling over how he didn’t know what to do, and he was so very confused. She would promote him to confess to you, seeing it as a good step in the right direction. If you rejected him then he’d learn to handle rejection, it was a good exercise for him and after weeks and months worth of discussion with Nahida he finally did it.

It wasn’t anything big, he isn’t the kind of guy to go all the way out for a confession. It was simple, you two were together in the library again, studying the way you did when you first met, he startled you for a moment when he said your name in such a serious, you panicked for a moment. Worrying if you’d hurt him, if something had gone wrong, but your nerves instantly calmed when he quietly grumbled that he liked you. He tried to make himself feel better by playing up his sarcastic persona, acting as if this was no big deal to him, but the vulnerability in his eyes told you everything.

Especially when you told him you felt the same, the looked shock for a short moment before quickly trying to cover it up, acting all confident like he knew you’d like him because he was just so cool. All a silly facade to try cover up the adoration he felt for you, you knew it was just a facade though with the way he smiled to himself and the light blush upon his cheeks. How adorable he was, and now he was your boyfriend.

[sol-consort]

I want a mass effect game where it's basically just Stardew Valley, but space themed (and Shepard has retired to be some sort of space farmer? idk) and bachelors/bachelorettes are the love interests from mass effects. (I just want Shepard to be married to Ashley and live on a farmstead together and raise their children there and live a life free of danger... but, it the grad scheme of things is that really so much to ask for?)

(Also, in this theoretical game, Shepard could date whoever, regardless of which gender you chose to be, that would be the dream)

I, too, want a Mass Effect dating sim. It is honestly a crime that despite how old and massive this fandom is, no one has made a basement dating sim.exe yet.

Lucky for us, brains require no coding experience! So let's imagine what a theoretical Mass Effect dating sim would be like, how you would gain the love interests, affection, etc.

I'm basing it around the mechanics of Stardew Valley.

Ashley

As a marine, I expect her place of residence to be near the shore. She's out the door by 6am sharp, goes on her usual morning jog, and work out routine.

By midday, she's running errands around the town, buying groceries, taking out the trash, etc.

In the afternoon, she can be found at the bar, and while she doesn't end up drinking more than a beer or two per week, she still enjoys the atmosphere there, plus the chance to hang out with her friends. Finally going back to her home at 11pm.

Her birthday is in summer, and you find her reading letters from her family and sisters in her home. Talking to her reveals her plans to take her sisters out for a girls' night later this week.

-

Her romance is intertwined with getting closer to her family, learning of their history, and meeting her sisters.

She ends up as one of the controversial characters in the fandom because of her support of the ongoing war, saying how she should be helping her platoon at the frontline instead of sitting here. Alas, she's been denied another redeployment.

In contrast to what you'd expect from an outgoing, assertive and bold demnour, Ashley has her soft moments. A love for poems and books passed to her through generations, a strong-willed faith in her spirituality.

-

Maxing out her hearts unlock:

an additional hidden dialogue where she starts taking marriage into consideration.

She reveals her middle name, Madeline.

Starts calling you skipper

-

Fav gifs

Literature books, especially Robert Heinlein's works.

cherry blossom petals

Antique pistols and weaponry

Steak, meaty foods in general.

Training equipments

-

For the other characters, I'd imagine Kaidan to move to this quiet town as a way to make his life a little easier with L2 implants. He's not very social, still not fully over Rahna and viewing his biotics as not monstrous.

Garrus is nonoffically one of the town's guards or equivalent to C-Sec? The town is very small, crime is nonexistent, and there isn't even a form of guards, police, patrol, or anything. Garrus still established his own patrol, and truth be told, he does help people, finding lost items, lost pets, lost purple shorts, he's your guy. Romancing him is more on the lighthearted side, he's your first turian, you're his first human, it's awkward and endearing, feral too.

Miranda is here on "holiday," but she omits giving any other details. Despite that, she is still seen working on her omni-tool and laptop 24/7. It's clearly she is here for some secret reason, but no one knows what it really is... She has been seen by garrus leaving the nearby protheon digsite. However. Romancing her is like pulling teeth. It takes a long while to gain her trust and melt her ice wall, but once she is locked? She is super locked and could potentially get her to finally resign from working under this seemingly obnoxious boss she has.

Thane is here with Kolyat! They live at the most opposite to the ocean side of the town, humidity causing them problems and all. Thane claims he's here to spend the last remaining years of his life, rather in a quaint town with his son than in some sterile hospital.

Kolyat, however, is very determined that a cure for his father is somewhere in this town. After all, isn't the same salarian doctor who engineered the genophage a resident here? Romancing him is bittersweet.

Thane never omits the fact he's dying from you, neither does he try to hide his dark past. He never expected to find love so far and so late. A lot of the romance events include you, him, and Kolyat as a family. The both of them awkwardly navigate through this parent-child dynamic after being estranged for so long, yet trying their best because they genuinely want to be closer. You helping them mend their wounds and relationship.

[pineapplerightsideupcake]

So I didn’t want to dump this essay in the reblogs of someone else’s post but they were talking about how it’s scary that more and more US teachers are reporting kids that don’t know basic knowledge by middle school and have to learn emotional lessons at 10 they should have learned as pre K kids.

The person was at a loss to explain it but I think I can shed light on it:

Half the people I know who have kids just don’t parent. As in they do the bare minimum to keep them alive. So many kids just aren’t being raised at all. Food and clothing is tossed at them periodically by completely uninvolved adults. So they sit in front of a screen all day and don’t learn even the most basic things. A huge part of that is because everyone works all the time. Both my parents worked but my grandparents were homemakers or retired by the time I was born. Now kids go from overworked parents to overworked and over crowded and understaffed child care centers to exhausted grandparents that can’t afford to retire but at least can pick them up from school. My friend who works at a private school for 3-10 year olds says that there are tons of kids there from 6am to 7pm and that she knows about half her kids better than their parents do. At least in her (modestly) fancy private school she is actually educating them. Most kids have those same hours but in low quality programs or over burdened public schools.

My cousin who is a SAHM says that she’s often the only parent in the class that even responds to the teacher sending info home. Parents don’t go to meetings. They ignore phone calls home. They ignore calls to pick their kids up. A huge part of that is they’re working working working.

It’s why you see some 13 year olds twerking on TikTok and the others are self diagnosing DID and Tourette’s. It’s why there are 900 genders and porn sick 12 year old boys.

A friend of my sister’s nearly got her daughter taken away because she developed malnutrition because she was letting her basically live off candy. This woman was a cook/caterer. She worked 6 or 7 days a week. Shifts were often 12 or more hours. She couldn’t slow down because her husband developed a pain killer addiction because he’d already destroyed his back at 28 with non stop manual labor and warehouse shit. She was only able to worry if her kid ate protein or vegetables because my sister let her and her daughter move in with her until the divorce/financial crisis was settled. Most people aren’t that lucky.

A tremendous amount of people in the US live paycheck to paycheck. This was always how it worked for people in “low income areas”. And as long as those people were disproportionately black or non white immigrants nobody cared. How many movies are about a Brave White Teacher coming into low income schools and asking “where’s your mom?” And gets back “she works three jobs and dad left”. How often are the kids presented as being emotionally stunted, behaviorally challenged, and embarrassingly ignorant. “Wow Mr. S, you’re saying the earth revolves around the sun, not the other way around. Pssh, do a rap about it if you’re so right” But now that the wealth gap has widened to the point the average white household is as poor as this country was happy to let POC be, and POC have an even lower standard of living, suddenly it’s worth discussing.

It’s poverty folks. It’s crushing, inescapable poverty. And it’s not just now starting to be a problem. It’s just the first time it was affecting enough of the “right kind of people” to pay attention.

[goldnhourwrites]

Combined Headcanons (just for fun!)

continuation of my Heartsteel College AU headcanons post!! feel free to use this for shipping purposes or whatever, I tried to put them in some kind of order by person!

Sett and Yone had to take a physiology class together once and Sett brought a bunch of homemade cookies at the end of the term. Ever since Sett learned Yone was a permanently exhausted pre-med student he has made an effort to bring food to office hours/study groups to share with him

K'Sante and Yone took an 8AM lecture together once and bonded because they were the only two people who were ever both on time and fully awake for it

Ezreal shows Yone the coolest places to take walks on campus when Yone needs a break from work, like cool public artwork and parks he’s found nearby

Yone enjoys reading the poetry Aphelios publishes under his pseudonym, even though Aphelios doesn’t know it

Yone longs to be more involved in the music side of campus and Aphelios encourages him to pick up an instrument again. Yone goes to every orchestra, jazz band, and choir performance he can

Yone has gone to one of Kayn's band’s shows and occasionally listens while Kayn practices guitar

Alune works at the café where Yone gets his coffee most mornings

Yone and Alune also study together occasionally since Alune’s bio classes sometimes overlap with Yone’s pre-med ones, and they share notes when they take the same class

Sett and K'Sante met by always being at the gym at the weirdest times (like 6AM before a practice meet) until they each went "hey, I should learn this guy's name since I see him 3 times a week"

Once they’ve become friends, Sett and K'Sante start going to each other's home competitions and hyping each other up

Ezreal has gone to a party at Sett's fraternity where Sett practically had to carry him out at midnight for being too drunk (he didn't drink a lot, he's just a lightweight)

Sett and Aphelios didn't really "meet" before Heartsteel, but Aphelios goes to Alune's a capella performances and sometimes he sees Sett there during crossover/multi-group events

Sett and Kayn spar for fun sometimes because Kayn used to do martial arts before college, and they occasionally trade fighting techniques from different disciplines

Sett will model for Alune's fashion projects. He knows a bit about how to sew, so he'll occasionally help her with tailoring things

Ezreal and K'Sante will act for Alune if she needs someone for a video or photoshoot

K'Sante met Ezreal by asking him for help with a source for an anthropology project while Ezreal was working as a librarian, and Ezreal kept offering him more and more books to use

K'Sante and Aphelios have crossed paths in the music department while practicing after classes. K’Sante learned a bit of sign language so he could talk with Aphelios more easily

Kayn doesn't dance with a group, but he likes going to the dance shows and finds out that some of his favorite dances were K'Sante's choreography. Eventually, after Heartsteel forms, K’Sante teaches Kayn how to dance hip-hop (they both love it)

Aphelios has had to help Ezreal find his way out when he got lost in the computer science building while he was looking for a cool new study spot

In return, Ezreal has had to wake Aphelios up because it was midnight and he’d fallen asleep in the library and Ezreal needed everyone to leave so he could close

Ezreal and Kayn both joined the parliamentary debate club their freshman year and immediately hated each other's guts. They often sided against each other for the sake of getting to argue with each other and not because they actually supported the positions they were debating

Ezreal and Kayn have become partners in crime by repeatedly seeing each other in places they're not allowed to go ("You're not supposed to be in here!" "Neither are you!"). They occasionally cross paths in places neither of them should reasonably be able to get to (like the rooftops of a tall building) via Ezreal’s teleportation and Kayn’s wall-phasing and have agreed to not tell on each other

Alune and Ezreal were in a play together once. They’re both the right amount dramatic to get along with each other, and Aphelios met Ezreal when Alune was hanging out with him after a rehearsal

Kayn and Aphelios have both made things in the jewelry studio - Kayn making spiky silver earrings and rings and Aphelios making delicate necklaces

Aphelios and Kayn took a painting class together one term and saw each other in the studio often. They still occasionally see each other at figure drawing sessions

Kayn plays a bunch of video games and will always playtest Aphelios's game projects and give him feedback

Aphelios and Alune live in the same area of campus and are often seen walking home together. Alune is trying to teach Phel how to skateboard, but he’s committed to biking everywhere

Aphelios and Alune always go to each other’s performances (with permission), since they both have a bit of social anxiety and it helps to know someone is in the crowd supporting them

Alune and Kayn have been to a skate park together and Kayn is teaching Alune how to skateboard

[lalalychee]

cw for talk of suicide, abuse, domestic violence, parental death, and addiction.

i am prefacing this by stating that i am safe, so please for the love of god don't call the police on me for a welfare check. these are thoughts that i have wanted to say for a long time, so please let me say them. again, i am safe.

the tl;dr version of this very long post is that it doesn't always get better, and i wish people would stop saying that it universally does. actually it sometimes permanently gets worse.

the thing that sucks about being in therapy for being suicidal is that so much emphasis is put on retraining your brain to know that you are worthwhile and that you deserve to live. i don't have that problem. i love and value myself so much. i know i am worthwhile and deserve to be loved. i know i am deserving of a good life.

the issue is that a good life is not what i have been given, nor will things change for the better. people love to tell you that it gets better, but in reality that isn't true for everyone.

many of the people in my life met me after i had become disabled, and even people who knew me before then don't necessarily know about the kind of life i came from. i was abused for over 26 years. my parents were addicts, and audrey (my little sister) and i were subjected to so many different kinds of abuse growing up that i've never successfully managed to tell one person the full extent of it. the briefest summary i can give is snippets from it all:

one of my earliest memories is having a phone ripped out of my hand and thrown at me when i tried to call the police on our dad because our mom was on the floor sobbing and bleeding after he'd hit her. i had to clean the blood off our mom's face while we hid in the bathroom.

when i was ten, i was in a car accident because my mom was drunk and fucked up on narcotics while driving, and she passed out at the wheel. i was on the side that crashed. i cannot think of a time when either of our parents were sober while driving throughout our entire childhood; they started drinking at 6am every day.

when i was twelve, shortly after our oldest sister passed away from lupus, our father's abuse toward our mom had gotten severe enough that, after years and years of us begging her to file for a divorce, she finally did. we had to hide in a women's shelter for weeks because he stalked us. he called our mother over 60 times a day, sometimes well over a hundred.

when i was thirteen, our mother got addicted to crack and became less and less present in our lives even though she had full custody of us. over time, she stopped buying groceries, stopped buying daily necessities, and eventually stopped coming home all together. by the time i was fifteen, i was taking care of audrey (who was twelve at the time) entirely on my own. we stole food to survive. we were so poor that we did not have access to even the most basic things like clean clothes or feminine hygeine products. eventually someone reported our mother to the police and she was charged with child abandonment. we were sent to live with our father, the very man who we had fled from just a few years prior.

our mom eventually went to rehab and we reconnected on my sixteenth birthday. i asked her when she was going to try to get custody of us again, and she said she didn't want to. this meant she would rather us live with our abuser than take responsibility for the children she forced into a life we never asked for.

she became sick with breast cancer for a second time (the first being when i was ten), and she died just after my seventeeth birthday.

the abuse we suffered from our father is not something i have yet found the ability to describe. what i can say is that he had so much control over every move i made that i became completely isolated. i went to school, and eventually work as well (although he barely allowed that), but that was it. i could not so much as go to the mailbox without him knowing where i was going, even long after i was a legal adult. we did not manage to escape his household until i was 26 years old.

when i was 26, audrey and i moved out together, and our father continued his habit of stalking women by stalking us relentlessly, even when we obtained restraining order after restraining order.

after years of being arrested for restraining order violations, he has fortunately made less and less attempts to get to us, but to this day i have nightmares about him almost every night. i fear i will not be free from the terror he has scarred me with even once he has died.

this is the kind of life i lived before my accident. these are the kinds of wounds i already was bleeding from day in and day out, trying so hard to recover from. and after all of that, a freak accident at 30 completely ruined any hope i had of ever living some semblance of a normal life. i degloved my knee, an injury that's every bit as horrible as it sounds. from that injury i developed stage 3 CRPS, a permanent neurological condition that is considered the most painful chronic pain condition known. a CRPS flare-up is more painful than childbirth, and no that is not an exaggeration. there is no cure, and treatments are limited and often only work temporarily, if that. even amputation generally does not make the pain stop. i cannot walk without a mobility aid (and excrutiating pain), and it is likely that i will one day lose my ability to walk entirely.

statistically speaking, it's not surprising that i ended up disabled. abuse survivors are more likely to become disabled for an array of reasons. but as a lived experience, it's surprising every single day. i survived years and years of abuse for this? this is my big reward for enduring, enduring, enduring? life will of course always come with hardships, but to me there is a drastic difference between average life hardships versus becoming crippled at 30 with pain i cannot be free from even if i cut my fucking leg off.

i love and value myself. i truly do. and in fact i value myself enough to know i deserve better than the life i have--a life of constant pain with no hope of reprieve.

i am often told to keep going out of spite, if nothing else. i have no spite. i am not angry. i am not bitter. my spite vacated me aeons ago, and in its place all i have is marrow-deep exhaustion.

of course i know that i am loved and that i would be missed. but if a dog is in a condition that has robbed them of what we consider to be a suitable quality of life, we allow the dog to die, even if we will miss the dog so much it feels like we'll never heal from it.

if we are doing something that hurts us, and it keeps hurting us, and even if we try to go about it a different way it still hurts us, we stop doing it.

this is where i find myself. this is why, even after all my years of therapy, i cannot shake the all-consuming thought that i so desperately want to die.

[lady-of-imladris]

Hey hey! For the ask game!

what do you think of when you hear the word "home"?

are you a spiritual person?

say 3 things about someone you love

Fave season and why?

do you trust easily?

tell a story about your childhood

Hii!

When I think of home I think of being a little girl and crawling into my mom's bed during a thunderstorm, curling up on the sofa next to my cat, late night studying with a warm cup of tea and the smell of my grandma's house 🥺

I don't think I am a spiritual person at all

3 things about someone I love:

My mom: probably has ADHD. She is the person in the whole world I rely on the most because she is ALWAYS there for me. And my mom is my drinking buddy!

Fave season and why: AUTUMN. The pretty orange leaves, overcast skies, rain, cute clothes, fluffy blankets, warm drinks, comfort food, dark academia vibes!!!

I think if I trust easily really depends on the person and their vibe. If they seem nice then yes, I trust them almost immediately. But COMPLETELY trust? There are very few people I trust completely. Not to be dramatic but I have been betrayed too often to trust someone fully.

Tell a story about your childhood: I am gonna tell a the story of how I got my first cat!

Ok so I was about 8 or 9 years old and it was December. I was a super happy kid, loved the colour pink and had been BEGGING my parents for a pet. My mom always said no. December 21st, my sister's best friend picked my sister up for school at like 6am and she said that there was a kitten meowing. It was a freezing cold winter, we had -20C frequently that year and it was so stormy that morning. The little kitten just DASHED into the house and it was the most pitiful little creature I had ever seen. My sister SCREAMED at my mom to get that damn thing out of the house and I BEGGED to keep her and obviously we kept her. We put her in the utility room for a few hours until everyone was back from work, making sure she had foody water and a litterbox. I named her Lily and she was my absolute best friend. She had to sleep in the basement for a few weeks but one night we came home late and heard her meowing and I asked my mom if the cat could stay with me and from that day on Lily slept in my bed every single night. The first night she slept on my pillow and I got ZERO sleep because she kept curling up right against my head or licking my face 😂

[legacyshenanigans]

I was bored and I found a

"Questions nobody asks"

Thing on the Internet, and I wanna do it 🤣 could consider it as a "get to know me" thing, I guess, haha. Gonna undercut though, because its kinda long. 🤍

1. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR CLOSET DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED?

Who the fuck goes to sleep with their closet doors open?! 🤣

2. DO YOU TAKE THE SHAMPOOS AND CONDITIONER BOTTLES FROM HOTELS?

Ew no haha, because they tend to be shitty shampoos and conditioners. I'm very particular with what I put on my hair.

3. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR SHEETS TUCKED IN OR OUT?

Out, I would feel EXTREMELY uncomfortable if my sheets were tucked in, I move around a lot in bed hahaha.

4. HAVE YOU STOLEN A STREET SIGN BEFORE?

Not a street sign no, I stole one of those big umbrellas from outside a pub once though🤣

5. DO YOU LIKE TO USE POST-IT NOTES?

Not really. No reason to.

6. DO YOU CUT OUT COUPONS BUT THEN NEVER USE THEM?

Nope.

7. WOULD YOU RATHER BE ATTACKED BY A BIG BEAR OR A SWARM OF BEES?

I'm terrified of bees and wasps and shit like that hahaha, but I reckon my chance of survival would be higher with a swarm of bees?

8. DO YOU HAVE FRECKLES?

I do, under my makeup haha.

9. DO YOU ALWAYS SMILE FOR PICTURES?

Nope. 🤣

10. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE?

People trying to talk to me when I have earphones in. A VERY quick way to get on my fuckin nerves.

11. DO YOU EVER COUNT YOUR STEPS WHEN YOU WALK?

No? 🤣

12. HAVE YOU PEED IN THE WOODS?

Yes. 🤣

13. HAVE YOU EVER POOPED IN THE WOODS?

.....Yes. 😅 (while camping in the middle of nowhere, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go)

14. DO YOU EVER DANCE EVEN IF THERE’S NO MUSIC PLAYING?

All the time. 🤣

15. DO YOU CHEW YOUR PENS AND PENCILS?

I used to. Not so much these days.

16. HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH THIS WEEK?

Well, I'm in a monogamous relationship, sooooo. One, lol.

17. WHAT SIZE IS YOUR BED?

King.

18. WHAT IS YOUR SONG OF THE WEEK?

Helicopter Girl - Satan's Seventh Bride.

19. IS IT OK FOR GUYS TO WEAR PINK?

Yeah? Sure? Why not?

20. DO YOU STILL WATCH CARTOONS?

Yesssss.

21. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE?

I can't even remember the name of it! Me and my mum are big horror fans, and we hunt for horror films together, and it was your standard, stereotypical folk move into a house. House is spooky. Spooky things happen ect. ect. ect. But it was FUCKING SHITE! 🤣 So THAT hahaha.

22. WHERE WOULD YOU BURY HIDDEN TREASURE, IF YOU HAD SOME?

Near a tree in a woods, then I'd leave a vague note just saying "Its under a tree in *name of woods* " 🤣 That's ALOT of ground to search, hahaha.

23. WHAT DO YOU DRINK WITH DINNER?

Depends on what I'm eating.

24. WHAT DO YOU DIP A CHICKEN NUGGET IN?

I'm a Tommy K gal. 🤣

25. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOOD?

I fucking LOVE Kinder Buenos.

26. WHAT MOVIES COULD YOU WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND STILL LOVE?

The HP films.

27. LAST PERSON YOU KISSED/KISSED YOU?

My fella.

28. WERE YOU EVER A BOY/GIRL SCOUT?

I went to Rainbows when I was a little kid, then I went to Brownies (similar kinda thing as Scouts) but I ended up leaving brownies after only going twice because I HATED one of the brownie leader women 🤣

29. WOULD YOU EVER STRIP OR POSE NUDE IN A MAGAZINE?

Sure, why not? Haha.

30. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A LETTER TO SOMEONE ON PAPER?

It's been a lonnnnng time since I've written a letter to someone. Phones exist now, haha.

31. CAN YOU CHANGE THE OIL ON A CAR?

Yeah.

32. EVER GOTTEN A SPEEDING TICKET?

Nope.

33. EVER RAN OUT OF GAS?

Nope.

34. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF SANDWICH?

Sandwiches in general are top tier scran, but I like meaty big ones 🤣

35. BEST THING TO EAT FOR BREAKFAST?

A can of redbull and a cigarette. 🤣

36. WHAT IS YOUR USUAL BEDTIME?

Depends on my sleeping pattern, sometimes a good 10/11pm sometimes 5/6am. 🤣🤣

37. ARE YOU LAZY?

Yes. Ain't even gonna lie lmao.

38. WHEN YOU WERE A KID, WHAT DID YOU DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN?

I mentioned above that my mum likes horror, so she would dress me as things like Vampires, Werewolves, The Devil, general monsters haha, which is funny to me because we'd usually all go trick or treating together with my friends and their mums, and my friends would always be things like princess's lmao.

39. WHAT IS YOUR CHINESE ASTROLOGICAL SIGN?

Is that the same as Zodiac? I believe I'm the Rooster.

40. HOW MANY LANGUAGES CAN YOU SPEAK?

Two.

41. DO YOU HAVE ANY MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTIONS?

In 2023? No lol.

42. WHICH ARE BETTER: LEGOS OR LINCOLN LOGS?

Wtf are lincoln logs?! Hahaha. Legos.

43. ARE YOU STUBBORN?

Absolutely.

44. WHO IS BETTER: KIMMEL OR FALLON?

Who?

45. EVER WATCH SOAP OPERAS?

Nah.

46. ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS?

Nah I'm pretty good with heights.

47. DO YOU SING IN THE CAR?

Every damn time. 🤣

48. DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER?

I don't actually haha, hum maybe, but not sing.

49. DO YOU DANCE IN THE CAR?

As a passenger, yeah, sometimes.

50. EVER USED A GUN?

Yeah.

51. LAST TIME YOU GOT A PORTRAIT TAKEN BY A PHOTOGRAPHER?

At my last day of HS party (Prom basically)

52. DO YOU THINK MUSICALS ARE CHEESY?

I just HATE musicals tbh. 🤣

53. IS CHRISTMAS STRESSFUL?

Not really.

54. EVER EAT A PIEROGI?

What? 🤣

55. FAVORITE TYPE OF FRUIT PIE?

Cherry!

56. OCCUPATIONS YOU WANTED TO BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID?

Honestly, I can't remember 😅

57. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS?

100%, I've seen one, don't expect people to believe me, but I know what I saw.

58. EVER HAVE A DEJA-VU FEELING?

All the time!!

59. DO YOU TAKE A VITAMIN DAILY?

No, but I probably should lmao.

60. DO YOU WEAR SLIPPERS?

Fuckin love a good pair of slippers.

61. DO YOU WEAR A BATHROBE?

Yeah.

62. WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED?

Depends on the weather.

63. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT?

Nickelback 😅 (DON'T JUDGE ME!)

64. WALMART, TARGET, OR AMAZON?

Well, can't lie, 2 outta 3 of those we don't have in my country haha.

65. NIKE OR ADIDAS?

Adidas.

66. CHEETOS OR FRITOS?

Cheetos because I dunno wtf Fritos are haha.

67. PEANUTS OR SUNFLOWER SEEDS?

Peanuts!

68. EVER HEAR OF THE GROUP BLACK PINK?

Nope.

69. EVER TAKE DANCE LESSONS?

Nope.

70. IS THERE A PROFESSION YOU PICTURE YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE DOING?

It was never something I thought about, infact when I first met my fella I had no idea what he did for work, and never asked because it wasn't important to me 🤣 turned out he had a very good job and I was just like "Oh OK cool" haha.

71. CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE?

Yeah.

72. EVER WON A SPELLING BEE?

I've never competed in one.

73. HAVE YOU EVER CRIED BECAUSE YOU WERE SO HAPPY?

Yessss 🤣

74. OWN ANY RECORD ALBUMS?

Like Vinyl? I do actually haha, some Iron Maiden ones.

75. OWN A RECORD PLAYER?

My mum and Dad did. I don't.

76. DO YOU REGULARLY DIFFUSE OILS?

Yeah, daily, I love that shit haha.

77. EVER BEEN IN LOVE?

Yeah :)

78. WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CONCERT?

Honestly, I don't really know, too many haha.

79. WHAT WAS THE LAST CONCERT YOU SAW?

It's been a while, but I went to a rock and blues weekend festival thing last year.

80. HOT TEA OR COLD TEA?

Neither.

81. TEA OR COFFEE?

Neither.

82. SUGAR COOKIES OR SNICKERDOODLES?

Don't know what either of those are 🤣 but Snickerdoodles sound DELICIOUS haha.

83. CAN YOU SWIM WELL?

Yeah I'm pretty decent.

84. CAN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH WITHOUT HOLDING YOUR NOSE?

Yeah.

85. ARE YOU PATIENT?

NOOOOO 🤣

86. DJ OR BAND AT A WEDDING?

Band.

87. EVER WON A CONTEST?

Yeah a few in my time haha.

88. HAVE YOU EVER HAD PLASTIC SURGERY?

Define plastic surgery haha. I've had lip fillers a few times? Nothing crazy. Is that classed as PS though?

89. WHICH ARE BETTER: BLACK OR GREEN OLIVES?

NEITHER 🤮🤮 URGH.

90. CAN YOU KNIT OR CROCHET?

I used to be able to, been a long time since I have.

91. BEST ROOM FOR A FIREPLACE?

The living room.

92. DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED?

Yeeeeah one day, but we're chill. I'm engaged.

93. IF MARRIED, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN MARRIED?

I'm not, yet.

94. WHO WAS YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH?

Oh my god, there was this lad called Jordan in my HS...He would like, tease me all the time though, I would call it "Soft bullying" 🤣 and I LOVED him LMFAO! 😅 I think thats why I like guys who can be abit of a bastard haha.

95. DO YOU CRY AND THROW A FIT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR OWN WAY?

Not really. But I'm a very "Babyyyyyyy? Can I get this?" Kinda gal, to get what I want 😅😅

96. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

Not yet.

97. DO YOU WANT KIDS?

I'd like to yeah.

98. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?

Purple.

99. DO YOU MISS ANYONE RIGHT NOW?

Not really.

~

[safetycar-restart]

[🌹valentine's ask ]

imagine none other than house husband!george (my favorite trope) treating his mistress to an elaborate candlelight dinner 😍 with tea and healthy food, of course. no acerbic alcohol or meals dripping in fat. he's dining her like a gentleman, he's giving her a proper massage with those skilled driver hands all night, hell yes. a little striptease attempt to make her laugh on top. maybe she can step on him. maybe he serves the food in kinky handcuffs. heh, who knows.

but! as i said. he is the polite and reserved king of preppy. nothing crude or hypersexualized to be found here, it's not escalating. date night in style! instead: since handsome wants to cozy up with his valentine, it's time to waltz in the living room: dancing is a must. they might not even have sex later on, it's all about the atmosphere and loving eye contact, being chest to chest. it would be so cute if they fell asleep on the couch embraced after watching a comedy movie, nestled under their big blanket.

- george's long legs anon 👕💙delivering the soft hours and apron pics 🍽

Oh my god the George long leg’s anon has actually sent in a George ask???? I never thought this day would come?!?!? But this is amazing and I love it so much.

Firstly, George THRIVES on being a house husband. The house is always in immaculate condition, seriously you have never seen the house not insanely neat and tidy. All George does is clean and cook and workout and get his brains fucked out and he is THRIVING.

Also all the other house wives are so envious of him and his perfect body and his 6AM workout routines in the garden and his cooking and his insanely successful wife who pays for everything. Seriously, they all hate him and George thrives on it.

So yes george is living his best life and of course valentines is basically a national holiday as far as he is concerned. He wakes you with breakfast in bed, which actually isn’t that unusual he does it quite a bit but this time he includes flowers and a little card.

Then he wishes you well for the rest of your day and tells you he has the whole evening planned.

You get home and he’s already in his suit. He even runs out to open the car door for you. He has all your favourite bath products lined up for you to choose from and the bath already running so that you can get clean and change into some fancy clothes for dinner.

He serves you of course, you don’t have to do a thing. It’s a meal he would have been practicing the whole week to make sure it’s perfect.

Maybe he wears his fancy collar the whole time? Cause yes it’s romantic and cute but he’s still your sub and you’re still his mistress and so he wants the collar. He wears an informal collar during the day, but for scenes it’s a leather one. He puts that on for this, because he wants to feel more subby.

And the food is so good!! He put so much effort into it and you can see how happy all the praise you give makes him.

He keeps all his best manners, doesn’t start eating until you do, doesn’t leave the table until you finish, cleans the plates away and tidies up the kitchen while you watch.

Honestly you don’t get expect the dancing at all, but knowing George you honestly should have. It’s the exact type of old fashioned and romantic shit that George loves.

The playlist is one he spend the whole week working on as well, carefully picking each song to make sure it’s all perfect.

And it is!!

You dance for a little while, and of course you’re the one leading him because that’s how this works. He’s smiling the entire time, continually asking for kisses because he just loves being close to you.

Once the dancing is finished, you decide to undress him. He wanted to still take care of you, but he had done such a good job and you saw how much time and effort went into his plans so no. You’re the Dom and you’ve decided you’re going to undress him and kiss every inch of his skin and thank him for an incredible evening.

He’s got tears in his eyes by the time you finish, so happy to have someone like you who lets him live the life he’s always dreamed of.

And then it’s time to cuddle and watch a movie. George falls asleep almost instantly, so tired from working so hard on the plane for the evening.

The sex can wait until the next day.

[finding-my-ariel]

So, that was a lot. Time for a recap.

I left my school to go to the hospital because they made it seem as though I couldn't live there anymore.

Best worst decision I could've made.

While I was there I met people I can no longer remember, aside from the two J's.

The biggest crisis was the homelessness, and since I mentioned my weed dependency they set me up at a sober living facility.

What they neglected to mention however is that I would need to go welfare and be approved for a housing voucher to stay there - which I was promptly rejected.

I spent 8 hours in the place just for them to deny my voucher!

Being on the verge of tears they found The Rain, an LGBT shelter that would take me in. Rain was nothing short of a lifesaver. It had it's downsides, getting woken up at 6am each week day, a daily chore, even a damn curfew!

I felt like a child again in some ways, especially when I needed to ask for my medicine..

the good sides made up for it pretty well.

I met some pretty annoying people, but I also met some pretty great ones.

I even went on few dates.

I met someone there who was on their way out already, but we fell for each other pretty hard.

Our first kiss on the full moon, our "official" status coming just a few days after, on the fourth of July no less.

I was happy, and damn near in love.

After about three weeks, I was incredibly overwhelmed again. I went back to the hospital, this time putting putting emphasis on my mental health in general.

Coincidentally, this was also where the short lived relationship ended.

There's not much to say about it really, we were incompatable and we moved too fast I suppose, but I'll never forget them.

Eventually, the hospital referred me to a local outpatient program where where spent four weeks in a partial hospitilization program.

During these four weeks I gained a lot of valuable knowledge and got a diagnoses of ADHD and bipolar disorder, can you believe it? I suppose it makes sense but I wasn't quite expecting it, especially not that fast.

I also met someone there, a beautiful soul who I'm grateful to still call a friend.

Some other things I accomplished at my time in the shelter include finally getting my ID, getting on food stamps, and receiving medicaid.

I know that this summer will slowly drift from my memory, only a speck of time in what I hope to be a long span of life. However, there was something truly magic about it all. The people I met will always be a part of the threads of my story, and I'm excited to move forth with everything I learned throughout the past two months. It was the most unexpected detour of life, but I'm honestly glad that it happened.

Now I'm back at school with loads to unpack, and although I'm nervous about all of the inevitable road blocks that lay ahead, I'm ready to face them with a greater set of tools under my belt.

Universe, thank you for this beautifully unexpected detour, but I'm ready to get back to work.

[thedreadvampy]

I am. For some reason. Being haunted by guilt for this one fucking thing that happened when I was 17. It keeps floating up whenever I try to sleep the last couple of days, I think it's cause Sam's been ill. so I'm putting it here in an attempt to exorcise it. please tell me if this is a situation it makes sense to feel guilty about 13 years later.

Ok so I'm 17, right? I have this boyfriend. He's 18? 19? Not 100% sure on timings on this. and we've been together for about 9 months.

I'm still at school. He's not - he dropped out of sixth form twice, doesn't have a job and is on and off benefits. He's living in his mum's house but I think by this point she's up and moved to Ghana without much notice, leaving him alone with 4 cats and a dog (I'm not actually 100% sure she'd moved out yet at the time but I'm the interests of steelmanning the guilt let's assume she had. I think she had).

We live in different towns - he lives in the nearest Proper Town, the one with like a train station and shopping centre and cinema and clubs. I live 2 buses away - there's a 45 minute bus that takes me from his to the town I go to school in, which goes every 20 minutes 6am-11pm, and then the 20/40 min bus (it takes alternating routes) that I have to take from that town to my village, which goes every 80 minutes 7am-5pm.

My habit at the time is leaving school on Friday, getting the bus to his, spending every weekend there, then going to school from his on Monday and going home after school to spend the week at home. So we sort of half live together - I do a lot of the shopping and cleaning for his house while I'm there cause I work and get a £20/wk allowance from my parents and have no bills to pay, whereas he doesn't have any stable income and since his mum left he's gotta pay for the bills on this 2 person house as well as food and stuff for himself and the animals.

So that's the context this is happening in. He's feeling very abandoned and not really coping, and I've been trying to fill that gap but also I Am Seventeen.

Anyway it's Christmas time, and I've agreed that I'll spend the run-up to Christmas at his and then get the last bus home on Christmas Eve to spend actual Christmas with my family.

I wake up on Christmas Eve about 3am because it is BOILING. I reach over and touch his skin and it literally hurts to touch cause he's running such a high fever. When he wakes up I ask him if he's ok, if he needs me to call the doctor etc, he won't let me do that. I get him water and paracetamol and honey and lemon and a bucket in case he needs to throw up but by about 3pm I'm like I truly have to go bc this is the absolute latest I can leave to catch the last bus home before December 27th (no buses on Christmas or Boxing Day).

and he is crying and begging me not to leave him and calling me selfish and saying I don't love him. and I do everything I can to make sure he's going to be ok and has plenty of food and water in reach and then I go.

(I was very right about the urgency of leaving if I wanted to get home, btw, bc it was below zero and snowing heavily and I JUST got onto the last bus at a dead run. and then that broke down in the snow 2 miles away from home, it was like an hour of just me and the bus driver sitting in an unheated bus while the snow piled up and he called the depot trying to get someone to come out 30+ miles to pick him and the bus up last thing before Christmas. Poor guy. Eventually my mum managed to drive out and pick me up and bring the driver a thermos of tea and some heat packs to tide him over until the cavalry came. so yeah there wasn't a lot of wiggle room in that travel plan.)

anyway my memories of that Christmas Eve have always largely focused on the bus thing. but like. the last few days I'm really thinking about how scary and lonely that genuinely must have been for my ex. like. if I'm right in thinking this was after his mum left, this was probably his first Christmas alone and he spent it racked with flu, running a fever in his room and his girlfriend just went away and left him to it. and like. That must have felt awful

and I keep just thinking should I have done something different? tried to get him to my parents' for Christmas? stuck around until the 27th? maybe talked to my mum and seen whether she could come pick me up on Christmas Day?

or like. even if i didn't do anything wrong. does it make me a bad person that I was so desperate to get out of his house and so relieved once I was away? like I just did not want to deal with that?

like it's obviously all moot, it was half my life ago and anyway it's a snapshot of a much more substantive and complicated relationship. but like. It's just sitting on me at the moment. while I flop around feeling sorry for myself bc I'm running a fever.

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

Being a night person who’s raised by a morning person often leads to literal abuse beyond the verbal and lack of access to things.

So, context of how much of a night owl I am. I remember being 3 years old and sleeping till noon if left to my own devices. This worked great when I convinced my parents I could be trusted to get myself to daycare (5 houses down) on my own. And I just would lie to the adults when I got there “I’ve been here all day! Playing outside! Can I have my lunch please?”. It worked. Kindergarten was a rude awakening though.

I literally didn’t sleep during the week when I was in school. Sunday-Thursday: no sleep. Because I COULDN’T fall asleep. And then I had to be up at 6am to get ready for school, feed myself, and catch a bus by 6:30. I’d barely hit the point where I could begin to fall asleep regardless of how tired I was by the time I had to be up.

I literally wore a uniform to school for years at a school that DIDN’T HAVE A UNIFORM because it was one less thing to take time and brainpower in the morning. That was a minimum of 10 more minutes I could be laying down pretending to sleep.

I didn’t do makeup either. Usually had a haircut I didn’t have to do more than brush. Same reason. I still don’t brush my teeth in the morning because I’d cut it out for, you guessed it, 2 more minutes laying down.

I always showered at night because I was awake enough and had the time. Ain’t no time for that in the morning.

Then on Friday night, I got to stay up and spend time with my dad and my older sister who’d come home from college for the weekend (nearly every weekend). And on Saturday, I’d (usually) get to sleep till I was ready to wake up. Which, considering I hadn’t slept for days, was a long ass time. When I did wake up, there would be no food left from breakfast and several passive aggressive comments about it. Then on Sunday, my morning person mom would force me awake for church.

I literally convinced mom that I wanted to attend the only historically black Lutheran church in my city because it still had an 11am start time from back when the mom’s all had to get white families ready for church first. I did like that church, but my motivation to attend that one and drive across the city for it was all about sleep. I only knew about it because my family had attended that church for a few years when I was very little so my brother could go to their school for free. You know what I remembered about it despite being 5 last time I’d been there? I didn’t have to wake up till 9-10am to go to that one. Any other church nearby would have been a 7am wake-up call.

I manipulated every aspect of my life that I possibly could using lying or plain neglect of my personal health to try and be able to survive the morning person world I was stuck in. But it didn’t make mornings easy to deal with.

On summer and winter breaks, I’d go walk around the neighborhood at night and climb trees and look at the moon, or read till I could finally sleep. Unless this was a “I’m gonna fix you” summer.

One summer when I was 11, mom shipped me off to live with her best friend 2-3 hour drive away for a dyslexia program. Mom expressed she was doubly thrilled because said friend enforced a mandatory 9am wake up time every day regardless of schedule. “This will fix your problem!” Literally I just spent the summer tired and bullied (her daughter was a bully and literally my first rapist.) but I did learn enough about spelling that I went from a 2nd grade to 12th grade reading level. But yeah. I remember being up till 5am every night because that’s when my body let me try and sleep usually.

Another summer, mom asked me to help her start a garden. This was fair. Mom is disabled and couldn’t do a lot of the beginning work of a garden. So I helped. I did the physical labor to turn the soil, add fertilizer, plant the seeds, etc. I was even prepared to go out and weed the garden once a week or something.

The next morning, she’s waking me up at 8am. “You have to go and water the garden!” She proclaims with clear joy and pep only a morning person or actor can muster that early. “No? It’s your garden. Watering is your job.” “But I can’t! You have to do it for me. You promised!”

1. I didn’t promise to maintain her guarded. I promised to help her with the physical labor beyond her physical capabilities.

2. Watering the garden DID NOT fall into that category because she could access and operate the garden hose just fine. She may have been slow about it, but she could absolutely do it.

3. If it had been a once in a while “I’m having a flare and feeling bad” or if she’d been hospitalized again, I would have watered her garden for her. No problem. But I’m not doing it for her every day. This was HER hobby. Not mine.

So, when she insisted I had to be the one to do this for her every day which meant waking up early because it “had” to be done when the sun was barely up, I picked up my pillow and blanket and went to sleep on the couch in the basement where she couldn’t follow me and couldn’t continue to easily harass me.

The garden died before it even started to grow. Mom didn’t want help with a hobby. She wanted me to be a morning person.

Another summer, my morning person mom was so upset about my lazy sleep schedule she tried to fix it with abuse.

She decided I would stay awake 2 full days and one full night in-between without even laying down and resting (which I did at least do during school weeks). Literally not allowed in my bed or to lay down until it was 9pm at the earliest on the 2nd day. Surprise surprise. This did NOT “fix” my sleep schedule. It just made me angry and meant I watched The Titanic a lot because some channel had it on every night for a month.

Another summer, my sister’s boarding school was also a fine arts summer camp, and she was working at the camp over the summer. She managed to pull some strings and get me a 6 week spot in their 3D art program. Every morning at 6:30am, we were all woken up, sent outside to gather around a flag-less flagpole, and sing a song “I’m alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic” over and over until they deemed us awake and enthusiastic enough to tell us the morning news. Then we’d eat breakfast, get ready for our stuff, clean our cabins, and head off to our individual classes. This was every day except Sunday for 6 weeks. The one time mom came to visit my sister and I during this adventure, she commented “this is great! You’re gonna have a healthy sleep schedule finally!” It didn’t change my default sleep schedule.

At one point, my mom started to suspect that maybe there was an actual medical underlying issue causing me not to be able to sleep. So she set me up with a sleep study. It came back with no issues. Nothing wrong with me whatsoever. My other problem was them asking “did you sleep?” When they put me in a completely dark room with no way of telling if time was passing or if I’d just slept and woken up without dreaming or noticing time didn’t pass. Very unhelpful.

But mom doubled down after that. Volunteered me to stay with my principal for a week in the summer and a week in the winter to look after and protect her from her chickens. Mom’s logic was “my sleep schedule is great because I was a farm kid and had to take care of cows. You’re a city kid. Send you to take care of time sensitive animals!” The week in winter turned into a month due to an ice storm. These adventures in “why I hate chickens and think we should eat them to keep them humble” did not fix my sleep schedule. It just meant I slept on a floor, in a sleeping bag, getting wood chips in my sleeping bag because the house didn’t have HVAC but a wood burning stove in the living room for warmth, and had to try and sleep with my principal on the only couch in the house 6 feet from me, while I Dream Of Jeanie or Bewitched played ALL night right above my head. And I was late for school every day. Because I was exhausted and not even sleeping on weekends in this environment. For a month. Not to mention the school work (high school and colllege) and part time job I was working.

This doesn’t even BEGIN to cover the passive aggressive way she’d wake up at 5:30-6am every day and turn on the morning news. She would turn the TV up as loud as it could possibly go “because I’m hard of hearing and it’s loud when I’m cooking! I need to be able to hear it!”

It was so loud the house would vibrate. I learned to sleep through this.

She didn’t care that she could just catch the same news an hour later while she was eating the breakfast she was eating and at a reasonable level. She didn’t turn the TV down when she sat down to eat anyway. Which is wild, because she always kept the TV loud but never THAT loud except for the morning news. She was trying to wake everyone up to match her schedule. I had to sit in the dinning room with that TV while I ate breakfast for school. At that volume. It’s a miracle IM not deaf. And people wonder why I talk so loud.

For context, she only did this to me. The rest of my family is full of night owls, but somehow, I was the problem.

She didn’t feel she could go after dad directly. My sister was the “golden child” and despite being a night owl with an obvious alcohol problem by 15, she did everything she was expected to often before she was asked and didn’t struggle with health issues, neurodivergency that anyone could pin point, or any of the other things that made me and my brother “problems.”

My brother is a night owl, but if you put him on a routine, he will begin to stick to it. It’s how he functions. Grandma put him on a sleep schedule when he was less than a year old and mom only had to correct it 2 or 3 times when the school wake-up time changed. So he’d stay up super late but then get up without issue or complaint the next day. So he was a problem child that got him shipped off to live with my aunt and uncle in another state one year, but his sleep schedule didn’t register to my mom as an issue.

But me? I couldn’t read at 2 years old and manage my own homeschooling like my sister could. I couldn’t be quickly forced into a routine like my brother.

So mom got creative.

And the creativity was toxic at best. Abusive at worst.

“But help-help, this is a reflection of your mom, not morning people.” Yes it is. Everyone above gave perfect clear examples of how morning people oppress night people on the macro. I gave you a specific and brutal example of the micro. They are the same issue. The same oppression.

(This also didn’t cover the naps she would take in the middle of the day. She didn’t have a job after I was in 4th grade, because, again, disabled. So she would wake up super early, do her morning routine, get me and dad out the door, then sit down in a recliner in front of the TV with reading material and the dog in her lap. She’d be asleep before noon. Then would STAY asleep until well after I got home. Because I was nice enough to try and let her sleep if I could. She’d wake up when dad got home and threw a fit that she hadn’t done even the dishes that day. And she’d be in bed again by 9 or 10. If I had to call her from school for an emergency, I had to really hope said emergency happened in first or second period so mom would be awake to hear the phone ring. I often was stranded places FOR HOURS alone and at night (college campuses where choir rehearsal took place) because she fell asleep and didn’t come and get me. One time, this got me in trouble with the front office. It was a half day and she said she was picking me up so don’t take the bus. I figured this was within her awake schedule. So I didn’t take the bus. And she didn’t show up. And she didn’t answer the phone. The lady at the front desk was supposed to be in an all staff meeting but was stuck watching me and mad about it and lecturing me. I was there till when school was supposed to let out normally when mom finally showed up. Of course, she’d slept through it. She apologized over and over but really? I didn’t want an apology. I wanted to not be stranded all the time because of her naps. She knew she’d fall asleep, why not set an alarm? Her alarm clock work her up just fine at 6am. I used to make the jokes to other kids who were occasionally late to being picked up from choir “so your parents don’t love you either, huh?” It wasn’t till my last year in that choir that they mandated an adult stay with the kids till they were picked up. I’m assuming I finally made the joke to the wrong kid. That was also the only year mom convinced dad to take some of the responsibility to come get me after rehearsal. So I only pissed off the choir adults one day a week instead of two unless there was a performance I was also going to be picked up late from. No cellphone of my own during any of this, by the way. If something had gone wrong, I would have just been gone. Survival was on me.)

Ok wait let her speak

[mushroomwillow]

I woke up at like 4:30am desperately wanting orange juice.

I only want orange juice so bad when I’m extremely sick. I mean like, my sinuses and body are so worn down that I cannot imagine eating food, my body aches and nothing seems to be worth moving for. Either is moving to this state, or it’s starting working with kids sense moving here idk. Under the cut is updates I guess

I started a new job November 18th

Everything was going pretty well, I’ve hated having to wake up at 5am though. And waking my daughter up at 6am. Physically demanding and working with kids. Again for the 3rd year in a row catching something that’s taken me completely out of commission.

And then, Thursday, for the first time ever in my life I got pulled into the bosses office to be handed a write up. The “first and final warning” about “multiple reports” that people could see my vape in my pocket.

Now, a friend of mine also just got hired at this place. We’ve worked together for almost a year, and she only learned I vaped in October when we got together for my wedding reception. I’m not even joking. January to October, and that’s how hard I try to keep my vaping away from people because I know it’s gross and I don’t want it to be around people who don’t vape.

So obvs someone saw me probably in my car.

I’ve done nothing else to get in any kind of trouble at this place. I’ve worked my ass off, offered advice on how to help a kid with severe ocd, taken shifts from people who have asked every time they’ve asked.

I was told in this “meeting” that my things would be searched if any kind of suspicion happened. I carry medical stuff in my bag because I have illnesses that I need to have stuff for just in case. And also, it’s my shit. It’s private.

And no one bothered to come up to me and say “hey, maybe go put that away?” Not even once.

So I looked for a new job immediately starting Friday. Went to a place yesterday, brand new restaurant that’s opening, got hired on the spot as a food runner, told by the owner he’d work with me with my schedule after the first opening weeks craziness and then fast track me to server. Pay is shit. Would be relying on tips. But my schedule would be like 5ish hours a day including drive time, no waking up at 5am, could sleep in till like 9 if my body would let me.

My babysitter is extremely sick rn tho. Supposed to start Tuesday, so I’m panicking trying to coordinate with a friends wife to watch my daughter for 3 days this week.

And also just. Pissed. The amount of effort I threw into working with these kids, the love I have for each of them. And how hard I’ve tried to make things better for them. And just suddenly getting the most random shit thrown at me? Like I would never vape in front of a kid. I never bring it out at work. Hell we don’t get any kind of break. 8 hours with no lunch, no break for bathroom, just constantly on our feet all fucking day. There’s not even time to go vape. So wtf? And the one person who’s seen me at work, with kids, for nearly a whole year didn’t even know I vaped until 10 months in. January to October. So wtf happened.

[idlycandid]

april 12th, 2022 pt. 2

i had walked into their house plenty of times before, it was modest, tidy, warm, and inviting. my uncle led me to their back bedroom they set up for him and curled up on the bed, under the brand new cozy throw blanket i bought for him, my dad laid on his side, like a little kid, watching an old Western television show from the 1950s, "Cheyenne". my best friend and i sat in the back bedroom with him on folding chairs, as he tried to tell us about the show we were watching. my uncle shared with us that he loved watching this particular show as a kid. during a commercial break, my aunt mentions to me in a hushed tone, "I had other bedding on the bed, but he kicked all the other blankets off--he only wants the blanket you bought for him." in the moment, this sentiment makes me cry (and even now), because somewhere in the swell of my ribcage, i know that the version of my dad i'm seeing on this afternoon is a helpless, tired, scared child and the adult in me, his youngest daughter, managed to unknowingly provide a sense of comfort, of safety. a feeling he rarely felt throughout his life, if ever. i walk back into the room and see him snuggle a little further down under the blanket. he looks up at me and asks if he can stay. i don't fully understand him the first time he says it, and as he struggles through the words a second time, i'm confused as to why he's asking and respond with, "of course you can stay, that's why you're here. you can stay for as long as you'd like." he nods his head... it's only moments after this exchange i realize he's asking because he's afraid of being forced to go to the hospital; my aunt makes meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and canned green beans (soft, easy-to-eat foods) for dinner. my best friend and i eat off paper plates on the folded chairs in the back bedroom while we try to follow the plot of "Cheyenne" each taking a chance to keep an eye on and talk with my dad as normally as possible in between bites. eventually, the hospice intake worker arrives... i let my dad know that we'll be right back & reassure him he isn't going anywhere, then join my aunt, uncle, cousin, best friend, and hospice intake worker around their dining room table to fill out paperwork. she has to ask my dad a few questions, one of which is the date.. he confidently answers that he knows exactly what the day is, and exclaims a day in February of 2020 (the date is April 12th, 2022). she asks who the President of the United States is and he says, "Trump" (it's Joe Biden). this shows that he does not have full awareness of reality and therefore, i'm able to make decisions on his behalf. we finish the paperwork around 7pm. the hospice intake worker assures me that she will get all of his paperwork submitted before the end of the night so he will be covered for in-home care. we say our goodbyes, i thank her for her time, i go back into the bedroom and say goodbye to my dad, that i love him & that i'll be going back home the day after tomorrow. i hug my aunt, my uncle and my cousin (their youngest daughter) for everything they're doing, express all of my love & gratitude, and let them know my plans to travel back home; after all, he's set up now and i've been away from home for a month and a half. when we finally arrive back at my best friend's house, i fall asleep quickly in their guest room... faster than i have in weeks. so when i awake the next morning to what i believe is my alarm at 6am, i'm jarred awake. my phone is ringing & it's a call from my aunt. i answer immediately... "honey, he didn't wait for one of us to come to help him stand up this morning. he stood up and immediately hit the floor. he's gone. we're calling to have someone come get him, can you get here?" i left within 30 minutes... his body was taken just before i arrived. i apologized to my uncle what he's just experienced,his response was, "the upside is, tumor rupture was immediate, he went quickly, so he didn't feel a thing." the easiest experience in my dad's seventy-three years of life was at the moment of his death.

[spinobsessed]

2am Rant

the one thing I hate most is when there’s a problem I can’t fix immediately so I can feel better and the conflict can be resolved and done with. It was a nightmare when I went to summer camp and I sent a letter to my parents asking to come home because it was just too much for me.

Parts I didn’t like: I had to wake up at 6am and do my morning routine differently, then I had to get my medicine differently, then I had to get my breakfast differently and eat all kinds of breakfast foods I wouldn’t usually eat (at the time I ate a boiled egg and a cup of green tea for breakfast everyday) while in a crowded noisy room, the 4th period activites I chose weren’t that fun, I had to do my whole shower routine in 10 mins and had to get changed into my clothes while still wet (I hate not air drying for like 30 mins before putting on clothes it makes my clothes stick to me) also I was of course on my PERIOD WHILE THERE.

Parts I liked/didnt mind: I had to go to activities, then eat lunch, then have horizontal time, we’d go to the pool or the lake which was pretty fun but lonely since I didn’t rlly know anyone, dinner wasn’t that bad, going to bed wasn’t too bad I silently cried the first night but the day tired me out so much I slept easily. The best part was that I lost 5lbs in the 5 days I was there, honestly if I knew I could’ve lost 14lbs if I stayed there then I just might’ve

anyways it actually scares me that my parents wouldn’t take me seriously when I say I want to come home. It took 3-4 days before they finally came for me and I don’t think I can ever forget that, sure it wasn’t anything serious but what if it was? What if there was something wrong that I just couldn’t write on a postcard and had to endure it for another half a week? Why is me saying I want to go home not serious reasoning enough? As fun and carefree I am, I’m also quite rational and make decisions I think through. Even more so the decisions that affect or include others, I don’t need a whole week to know if I like my whole world being upside down or not