#but i need to stop thinking about it and donate plasma | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

antihibikase2 · 2 years ago

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Request a drabble using this prompt list!

"I swear, it's like he has eyes everywhere. I can't even buy a lump of cheese and a loaf of bread without him breathing down my neck."

Mumbles Piper, taking a swig out of his mug of Moomoo Milk before slamming it on the counter.

"Every piece of gold, every purchase we make-"

"All is accounted for, he's quite good at what he does. He's always been like that, even back at Mistralton."

Antoniou muses, swirling a mixing stick into his cup of coffee. Compared to the rest of the party, concerned at best, annoyed at worst, he was glowing with pride.

"It is quite impressive, actually. A true student of the Mistralton branch."

"Impressive?! It's creepy!"

Kurusu glances from the other end of the counter, fist clenching into a cup of hot cocoa.

"I make one purchase at some small store downtown and he's on my case all night about it! How is a chocolate bar going to 'financially murder the entire party', and how is it my fault entirely?!"

"A chocolate bar is nothing,"

Abbot laughs- he's the man behind the counter, the one preparing the party's drinks.

"I was in a rush to buy herbs and medicines- you know, so I could do my job as an apothecary; next thing I know, I've built up quite a tab in the store. No problem, I think, I'll pay it all of- but since Ohashi hasn't heard of these purchases, and I've amassed quite a debt, well,"

He pours a questionable liquid into a mug, a murky, sparkling gray.

"I learned my lesson- though I'm not allowed to experiment any new formulas for the time being, on account of Ohashi banning me from using the party's funds."

"Serves you Right,"

Abbot glares, but doesn't argue.

Lobanov takes the curious concoction, swirling it in his hands.

"He's a Little Debt Collector, That one. Very Terrifying- but What do you Expect, he is a Merchant of Plasma Harmonia Academia."

"I think he's doing a really good job then,"

Grumbles Descante- his own choice of drink was a simple, freshly squeezed lemonade; and he hoped Abbot didn't add anything to it.

"Representing the academy's business majors, I mean. Don't we have to pay him three pieces of gold daily?"

"The staff at Aspertia would put down donation boxes,"

Slater whispers under his breath, lips pressed against the rim of his teacup- his choice of drink was Pecha tea with coconut milk.

"It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't, um, mandatory."

"Little bloodsucking parasites,"

Technamare puts up his smoothie for Aibert to drink from- clearly annoyed at the mention of collecting fees.

"Opelucid wasn't any better- an entrance fee for the exams, the tuition, they didn't even offer scholarships, when they're the branch that'd benefit from having one!"

"Nice to know that, aside from running cults, planning deaths, masterminding this whole ordeal while carrying out this so-called god's will-"

Abbot slides Kurosawa his drink- a cup of Iapapa berry juice.

"-they're also stealing money from us."

Piper rolls his eyes. "And you guys say I'm the traitor-"

Technamare immediately looks at the thief. "You literally are-"

Piper waves his hand dismissively. "Yeah, fine, it was a one time thing-"

Descante, furrowed eyebrows, speaks up next. "You tried to kill Slater-"

"Well, I stopped doing that! Unlike Ohashi who bleeds us dry every time!"

"Who's bleeding who dry?"

The rest of the party goes quiet.

Stepping inside Abbot's private bar, Ohashi steps in with the sound of his wares jingling inside his backpack- as a merchant, he carried business as usual even as the party were labeled fugitives and heretics by the rest of the world, and maintained steady connections.

Out of all of them, it was no doubt Ohashi worked the hardest.

Yet.

Everyone turns away- completely unwilling to fess up.

Ohashi needs no confirmation, however.

"I take it the ingredients used for everyone's drinks were part of yesterday's trip to the market, Abbaticcio?"

"Right," There's a peaceful smile as he wipes a glass- it's hard to tell if it was fake or not. "No need to worry about that."

"Hmph. You say that,"

He glances at everyone.

He must have some sort of innate magic ability, Piper thought, because his glare was the iciest it's ever been- and the way it quickly melts into something, one of seething rage-

"-but while you lot were here gossiping amongst yourselves, I've observed there's been discrepancies between the reported expenses and our current budget."

Uh-oh.

"Kurosawa, Piper, Kurusu, Lobanov-"

The rest unmentioned quickly rose to their feet, scampering upstairs. Abbot hastily throws the last of the cleaned glasses into the shelf and makes a run for it.

"-meet me outside. We need to talk."

Kurusu looks like he wants to argue- but shrinks back when Ohashi stares into his exposed eye.

With a shrug, Lobanov takes one last sip of Abbot's strange drink, stretching his muscles and walking outside with Kurusu clinging to his coat.

"What did you buy?" Kurosawa asked. "You're the one always in trouble with him."

"You're in his bad books too!"

"It was probably some bandages I brought in a rush!"

"Like hell it was!"

"Both of you,"

Placing gloved hands on their shoulders, Ohashi leans close.

"Like it or not, I'll never part from your side,"

It was less of a reassurance- especially with how tightly he squeezed.

"So while I'm around, you better pay your dues. Otherwise,"

Somehow, out of everything we've encountered so far-

"You'll know why they warn you about making a deal with the devil."

-why is Ohashi the scariest?!

#jrpg au #request

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bvannn · 2 years ago

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Weekly update December 1, 2023

Today was awful. The rest of the week has been fine. The awful was because of medical stuff. I’m still having fatigue, and I have an absolute ton of homework this weekend so good chance I won’t get much done in the way of art, but finals week is coming up which should free up my schedule a good amount.

At the beginning of the week I got a bunch more late inktober drawings finished up. I still need to keep powering through the rest of the prompts but it’s fine I’m not that worried. It’ll be later this week if I can manage anything but I’ll keep trying.

TRGA has been slow due to exhaustion. I have all but one keyframe on Tim 1-4 done, and the tweens shouldn’t be too hard. I don’t want to mess with props but if I have to I have to. I was messing a bunch with computer stuff this week, and after effects is looking pretty nice for future animations, but for the one we’re on I won’t mess with it if I don’t have to.

Music: I definitely need to redo the verse melody I did last week, it doesn’t fit the song at all. Got a bridge melody done that works great though. Also got a bunch of other plugins and VSTs working so I have an idea for the next original song I could get working on (which should be instrumental so I won’t need to hold off because of vocals). I could also try my hand at covers, since they would theoretically move a lot faster. I think this upcoming week I’m going to prioritize animation above music if I can, I’ll try to just spend like one day on music for a good block of time, and the rest on those tween frames or reimporting stuff.

I’m a bit worried about computer stuff, since good chance I will have to move to a new one soon, which should be great for music plugins and after effects stuff should I chose to mess with that, but will be a pain in the neck to move my slew of clip studio brushes. I’ll try to make a nice list of all the sets I have downloaded throughout the week, in order to make the process easier on myself, but it will take a while.

Last thing, I’ve finally stopped procrastinating on that comic idea I’ve had, and have started thumbnailing a comic pitch for the O’Malley Foster Home. At the present it’s just planned to be a pitch, as I would prefer it to become an animated webseries to a webcomic, but it would still be good to get some ideas out of my head, since people seem curious about my OCs, but I don’t want to infodump unprompted, and it leads to some things getting misinterpreted (I’ve seen Mikey referred to as ‘goth’ even though he’s moreso meant to be punk, and a drawing of him got reblogged by a demon themed account today because of that drawing I did of him pretending to be a demon. I also have a mutual who I think thinks that Jack is a vampire because he has a bat motif in his design, even though he really just likes bats), so them having some public lore would hopefully clarify things. Still not sure if I will or should do a pitch for Backstage as well once that is done, but that doesn’t matter until it’s done anyway. It’s a nice smaller project to do during lecture perhaps, so it’ll be fine.

Lots of stuff this week. I am still bleeding from the doctor this morning and also tired af so I’m going right to bed after posting this, tomorrow I will do homework, and maybe look over some tutorials for after effects or music stuff while I donate plasma tomorrow.

#weekly update

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pagerspages · 12 days ago

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Who am I?

Who am I? I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. I don’t recognize myself when I look in the mirror. I don’t know who I am or who I’m trying to be. I turned 26 about a week ago. I haven’t looked forward to my birthday in years. I think it’s because I just see it as a benchmark of how far I’ve come while not really doing anything.

I moved out on my own this year and it’s been good but also really freaking stressful. I stress about money like 12 times a week. I’ve started donating plasma to try and help with that. What a sad world we live in that even when I make over $10 more than the minimum wage, I have to pretty much sell some of myself to help afford to live.

I’ve been looking for a new job. I’m the service manager at a tire and lube shop right now, and I do like my job most of the time, but it’s taking a physical toll on me, and I don’t know how long I can deal with it. I keep getting this rash all up and down my arms. I’ve never been able to pinpoint what it is. I think the heat is just making it worse. I even had to stop wearing shorts in the 90+ degree heat because the hem kept rubbing up against the back of my knee and giving me hives.

I’ve also been having a lot of body image issues lately. I wish I could distinguish demorphia and dysphoria. I haven’t counted calories at all this year and I think I’ve gained most of the weight back that I lost by falling into that eating disorder and I know I should be happy I don’t have to deal with that anymore but why does my brain tell me that a bigger body is a worse body?

I think I’ve given up on trying to explore my gender for a while. I just don’t have the spoons to deal with the trans stuff and being a person right now. I should be posting more on here, but I just don’t have the time anymore. Between work and school, and seeing my boyfriend, I don’t really do much else. I can’t work less, I shouldn’t quit school again, and I refuse to see him less; he’s the only thing that keeps me going some days. I need to get up and visit my dad’s grave more, but when? I feel like I’m falling behind on everything, and it’s all going to blow up in my face soon.

I started therapy again, and I’m sure I’ll probably have to unpack most of this in the upcoming sessions. Anyways, this was all just a big rant. Sorry for taking up space on your dashboard.

#lgbtq #trans #personal #long post #rant post #personal rant #complaining

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peninkandcakecrumbs · 1 month ago

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Meadows.

(Just a wee note: If you could imagine this takes place in a fantasy-like realm, this D&D style, medieval mixed with magic. Hopefully it will make more sense. Ok, thanks, bye! - NJR)

(TRIGGER WARNING: If you're squeamish about medical stuff, maybe don't read this. Don't do that to yourself. If you think this needs other/more trigger warnings, drop me a message and I'll add it.)

'Meadow's Practice' Had been a part of Barker's Street since anyone could remember.

Back in the day, as it were, Dr Peter Meadows was a well-known, well-experienced, well-learnt and well-loved member of the community as the local healer and helper of all things health related. If there was something wrong with you - anything at all! - he either would have or find a solution.

He donated blood, plasma and any other bodily fluids (yes, even that...) whenever physically possible. A favourite, humorous tale told was when he had tried to give blood multiple times in one day, and his own nurses didn't recognized him in his disguised until he correct one of them on comforting a fainted donor.

But many feared his retirement. None more so than Dr. Meadows himself.

But he was a smart man, was Dr. Meadows. He'd given his whole life and soul to the people of Barker's street and beyond. So he decided to give his body too.

He had assistants start with taking as much of his fluids (blood, plasma etc.) as he could get away with between surgeries, and he started with his limbs: hands and arms, feet and legs. Then he went with hair and skin grafts. A lucky individual got 'lil' Pete' (what became of him is a mystery to this day*).

At this point, the blood donating stopped and the torso was opened up. Organs were taken and treated before they were stored. It was around this point, they took the Doctor's eyes. Before he lost all ability to communicate (around the teeth and tongue checkmark), Dr Meadows instructed his assistants the rest of what to do. The rest of the organs packed up, teeth, tongue, any of the of the rib bones or hips (if they survived) and last, but not least, skull and brain.

The brain was to be given to his esteemed colleague Dr. Hugo Eaves (for research purposes) and his skull to his ex-wife Marrissa Evans (out of spite).

Now. Here comes the weird part. As stated before, Dr. Meadows gave his EVERYTHING to healing, including his soul....but, even after he died, people still needed healing. There was still unfinished business (if you will). So his soul never rested. His spirit. In other words, his ghost.

The thing with ghosts is its easy to possess people. You just got to keep your fingers crossed and hope someone stumbles onto you. Or takes one of your possessions home so you can follow them. Which is why it works with something personal that belonged to the deceased. It also works on people you share DNA with. Like family members. Descendants. And people who've medically received your blood and/or organs. And/or any other part of you, for that matter. After all, even before chopping himself up, Pete Meadows had been a donor since he'd been able to. He'd Given Everything.

That's a lot of Pete!

That's almost, oh, I don't know, half the population of the Pete's home city.

And so...

Whenever someone is even the tiniest bit ill, the nearest poor bastard with even the tiniest bit of Dr. Meadows in them, get their bones jumped by the good doctor's ghost, he wanders up to the 'patient' and has them right as rain. By any means necessary.

*if you're curious, lil' Pete had been stuffed and mounted on a plaque, like a hunting trophy and is taken down for 'special occasions'. All this be a devoted 'fan'.

#unedited #spilled ink #writeblr #writer stuff #writing #short story #Dr. Meadows #fantasy #horror

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dapperprincess · 6 months ago

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I feel like it's not really fair how you're presenting the money you are paid for DONATING (!!!) plasma. The reason it's not a lot of money is precisely because it has to be a voluntary donation, something people do out of altruism and care. Yes, sometimes people are genuinely desperate and their motivation for the donation is the little money you get for your TIME, but that doesn't change the fact that it factually is good that it is something based on DONATIONS.

You know what would happen if people could sell their blood? It would become extremely expensive, and someone like me, who cannot donate blood because she actually has depended on blood transfusions before, might have to end up paying out of pocket because insurance would not cover it any more.

You’ve never been in a plasma donation center and it shows. I have. Regularly. I watched one of my best friend go to two different plasma centers for double the money (not allowed but they didnt care) right after he got out of surgery. Would you imagine he didnt heal anywhere close to the timeline that the doctors told him? Weird right? That was just from all his altruism.

Do you know what would happen to the blood you rely on if these centers stopped paying for the “donators’” time? You wouldnt have the blood they harvested from poor people, mostly poc at that.

No one who has a choice is in a plasma center. I guarantee you that. Plasma centers are not the fun little bus that parks outside the walmart and the high school where they give you a cookie and a spongebob bandaid afterwards, I’m not allowed to donate there either bc im anemic. Plasma centers are where they take your blood no matter who you are or what you’ve got going on (unless you fail the hiv test, then you can only donate once) and try to throw you out without paying or bandaging you.

Do you know how many fights I got in with the plasma people because they tried to find some loophole where they didnt have to load the card?? If you think you would have your blood transfusions without paying the poor their blood money for their literal body parts, then you’re uninformed about where your body part “donations” come from.

Yes, health care needs an overhaul and needs to stop being a for-profit industry. Yes, allowing the sale of bodies and body parts in any form commodifies poor people’s bodies and creates incentive for abuse.

But don’t for one second think that if all plasma centers stopped paying for “your time” that you’d have the same supply of blood that you have now. You can oppose the sale of human bodies and body parts for ethical reasons, as do I, but dont forget where the blood in your viens came from and dont forget why it’s not in its original body. Because someone needed $10-$20 enough to sell their blood.

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xiaokuer-schmetterling · 6 months ago

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2025.01.23 - donation #2

donation appt today 0800

goal protein intake: 50 - 80g

☑️ protein tally: -73- ( goal reached ~ noon )

goal water intake: 6 bottles ( 17oz with electrolytes )

☑️ water tally: ++++++ x stop counting at 6; drink when thirsty afterwards

goal iron intake: 18g

☑️ iron tally: -5.2-

woke up 0300ish. norbert needed his emotional support human for liminal time feeding again. this still seems to be a trend. ok we're definitely adjusting bedtime then. last night i was starting to get sleepy around 2100 and was like passing out on my keyboard making weird typos by 2200 so. that should be easily doable. had a spoonful of honey and a cup of hot water to sweeten up my voice in preparation for reading another ch of a few wips!!! @ferntasie be on the lookout for a new ch of your gift fic soon! (≧∇≦)ﾉ

okay here's the meal plan for the day! will update as we go along and see how things go IRL

0430 ? snack: 2 slices toast (2x2 = 4g, 0.8x2 = 1.6mg). 1 w. thin spread of apple jelly. 1 w. thin spread of chocolate sunflower butter 🤤

0715 ? BFAST: 1/3c grits (4g, 1mg) with butter & honey. bottle of rainbow machine fruit smoothie (2g, 0.6mg)🤤🤤

1100 ? LUNCH: IT WILL HAVE SHARP CHEDDAR CHEESE AND A GLASS OF FUCKING MILK AND THERE WILL BE CAKE INVOLVED ISTFG culver's kids meal cheese burger (20g) with side of fried cheese curds (15g) and a medium serving of chocolate custard (15g)

1345 ? snack: bolthouse farms vanilla chai w. green tea extract (dairy free) (13g, 2mg)

2000ish ? snack: trail mix! 🤤🤤 1/2c pine nuts (8g, 3.4mg), 1/4c golden raisins (1g, 0.7mg), 2 tbsp baker's semisweet squares

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planned bedtime: NLT 2200 ( alarm set as reminder )

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how did i calculate the intake goals ? see first food diary post, go to the very end!

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i think i will still be journaling about my food intake on the "off" days [fri & sat] to help me be mindful and intentional about the quality and portion size of what i eat. however on those days i will not be restrictive about milk or cheese intake, nor carefully calculating anything but iron intake, as that is the category i am most like to fall low out of band. then i intend to treat sun as a prep-lite sort of day. ie. tracking protein, water, iron intake; restrictive but allowing milk & cheese intake and listing exact portions. i think this will help me be more successful on mondays. with the overall goal of staying a strong candidate for successful plasma donations. and maybe accidentally eating in a way that is helpful for my mental and physical health hahahahahaha i did not do this. but it was okay!

#food diary #personal story #plasma donation #journaling #long post #donation day #ETA: SUCCESSFUL DONATION! $100 BONUS FOR 2ND TIME DONOR!!!#i know i need to redo my math on the totals im just brain dead tired and will fix that next time i open the post

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souperfluidslut · 1 year ago

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tw self harm, suicide mention

chilling out on the sex posting for regular posting real quick

even though I'm in a better place than I was last week, I still think I'd benefit from going to a mental facility. I plan to discuss it with my therapist before I do, but the fact I was that close to genuinely hurting myself after i had already been thinking heavily about it for days worries me. the ONE reason I stopped was because my phone kept going off from pink sending me funny stuff and I snapped out of it because I was laughing so much.

I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into the hole but I wasn't sure how to get out. being unemployed with no money left except a credit card, feeling ignored/not feeling loved, and being stuck inside just kept adding more and more stress and despair. from what I saw I not only had no help, but couldn't even afford to seek it out. my days and nights were empty. i was withholding myself from the only thing I had left to cope with (weed). and things just felt bleaker and bleaker and more meaningless. i got passively suicidal and eventually it's like I just. laser focused on self harm. it genuinely felt like a real solution. like I'd finally feel something. anything.

i decided to start smoking again (although very little) and I snuck red over so we could hang out and she surprised me with a date. things have looked up the last 2-3 days and I decided to do plasma donation to get money for what I need, but I don't trust that I won't fall into that hole again.

I'm not sure how to wrap this up. I'm exhausted, high, it's 6:35am and I just laid down to sleep, and idk.

i have gained a Twitter mutual (I started posting ass and whatnot on there). she's so wonderful.

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writermuses · 1 year ago

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Whether Raleigh meant to draw a visceral reaction from Lale with his sharp tone, it had happened anyways. Lale paled, snapping her arms around her middle. It had been quite some time since her father had passed away and she hadn't missed the man that had caused her hearing loss. Her mother and step-family tore her apart in other ways. Since settling in to Boston, working at the library, her quiet life hadn't hadn't had as many snapping moments of terror and she'd even stopped flinching at a clattering of books. "I know," Lale started, hardly above a whisper, "I know I owed you more than a conversation. We were so young, Raleigh. I was scared..." She was still scared, possibly more than ever before. "And a coward. Not telling you, disappearing... it wasn't fair, I'm sorry."

She quieted, not expecting him to say anything else about the past, both of them aware that an apology wasn't enough nor would it change the current circumstances. "The surgery is in the morning. With how fast tumors can grow in kids, they do scans all the time but warned me there could be more by the time of the surgery. They're going to remove one kidney and go from there. If it's spread they'll let us know while they're in surgery. They said they might have to do a partial removal and reconstruction of the other if there is more cancer there." She leaned over the screen a little stopping at the words partial nephrectomy. "That's what that's talking about. After they see what's going on they'll decide on chemo which would attack cells all over her body or radiation which would be lasers or whatever to her lower stomach... umm, localized. Then she can be on a waitlist for a kidney transplant. She might need to be on dialysis, but they said not to worry about that until after the surgery."

"I'm not in a place to say no to help. I just... I can figure it out. You don't have to feel obligated." Lale had done everything she could to make ends meet before their daughter was sick. Now she had donated plasma, would give Lily her own kidney if she could. Debt was simply something Lale had to live with for the sake of Lily getting whatever she needed to heal. "The surgery is scheduled for six in the morning. They pushed it back so that they could rest after another surgery they'd had today. I don't think they'll push it back again."

"She couldn't have made you get an abortion if you had come to me instead." His voice is sharp, words rushing forward without thought, and even through the cloud of hurt shrouding his thoughts, he realizes that it isn't fair. The relationship she has with her family is complicated, and that is a pain he knows too well. "It was worth a conversation with me." When she turns away, it is easier for him to find her eyes. That way, she can't catch any other emotion that flashes over his expression--specifically the longing that is entwined with his hurt. Having no closure made it hard to move on, and having walked back into Lale's life without warning means he certainly wasn't prepared for the surge of emotion that has enveloped him since this morning.

Her phone is accepted without question, hands wrapping around the worn case and his pointer finger running along the edge of the sticker. Both are noted without mention as his attention comes to the cracked screen and the information communicated beyond it. "You didn't chase me down at all," he says. "And I haven't done anything. She's my daughter, too." The words are foreign on his tongue, but he sits taller.

There is more silence as he scrolls through each document, attempting to take in as much information as he understands. In reality, each one leaves him with more questions and by the end, he doesn't know where to start. It is all big dollar amounts and medical talk and diagrams and risks and treatment options-- "What... does all of this mean?" He is slow to look up. The phone is not yet handed over. "This is a lot of money, Lale." For anyone. He is lucky enough to have the resources to make it work, including the best insurance the league's money can buy, but even putting the cost aside, the emotional drain that Lale has had to deal with on her own is obvious in her heavy shoulders, her rushed words. "I see... what you've done for her, but I need you to let me help with this. Please. What is the plan? What is the surgery tomorrow going to do?"

#erstwhles #ref: lale x raleigh #thread: lale x raleigh 01 #cancer tw #death tw #medical tw #abortion tw #//bold is lily #//omg you stopped living your life for my shit ass scribbles #//😭

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harlequin-hangout · 3 years ago

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For a Mortal Chapter 1

Series Master List | Loki Master List

Part 2 >

Pairing: Dom!Loki x f!Reader

Warnings: Self esteem problems, self deprecation, ⚠️abuse (past, not from Loki)⚠️, minor breaking and entering

Contains: Maybe angst, definitely a little fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

Dividers are made by me! Want some for yourself? Send me an ask!

I do not nor will I ever give permission for my writing to be copied, pasted, reposted to other sites, or edited in any way shape or form. Seriously, just don’t.

A/N: This was inspired by this ask by @michelleleewise. This is my first attempt at writing any kind of fan fiction, so please be kind. I’m hoping to get better, though inspiration doesn’t strike as often as I’d like. I may turn this into an ongoing series, I haven’t completely decided yet. I hope you all like it!!

“FUCK!!”

Your phone hits the bed and bounces to the floor. You threw it harder than you meant to. Sighing through your gritted teeth, you pick up the device. At least the screen wasn’t cracked, but your case had definitely busted when it hit the ground. You had just hung up a call with your boss. The company wasn’t bringing in cash flow, which meant for the second month in a row, you weren’t going to get paid. At least he had told you that you didn’t need to come into the office until there was money again. You take a deep breath and press the heels of your hands into your eyes, as if the pressure could stop the stress and the headache it was about to bring on.

“God, I don’t want to know how much I’m short,” you think to yourself as you pull the busted case off of your phone and open your banking app. A pit forms in your stomach as you realize your account is overdrawn by $56.41. Well . . . Ramen again tonight. It isn’t the healthiest, but anything is better than being hungry.

It’s been two weeks since your last conversation with anyone in the small startup company you work for. You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, trying to find freelance work while donating plasma just to make sure you can eat has taken its toll on you. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. The caller ID reads “Darren Albright”. Dammit. It’s your boss.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you answer, trying to not let your exhaustion show through in your voice.

“Hey, Y/N, we need to talk. You’ve barely done any work since the last time you were in the office. I feel like I’m just a paycheck to you, and I’m not okay with that. We talked when you came on board, I have decades of experience in production, but this company is still essentially a start-up and Rob and I both work for free, and it’s insulting that you don’t even try to come in to help out. I always go out of my way to help out friends, and I just thought you’d do the same. I’ve offered you gas money to come out here if you need it, we’re all in the same boat here. I’m broke too. I haven’t paid my mortgage for this month, so don’t tell me it isn’t possible.”

You don’t really process the rest of what Darren says as you stare at the wall in disbelief.

Not working . . . ? You’ve been working for free for over two months. The only difference is you’ve been working from home instead of from the office. You can’t help it if you live an hour away. Hell, it isn’t the same boat. Darren lives in the office, owns the company, and when you were in the office, you mostly saw him playing around on an art app while you worked. You knew you were signing on to a startup, but you’d been reassured that you’d be paid at least something. You mumbled apologies that you don’t really mean as you hang up the phone. First it was his now ex-girlfriend, Crystal, doxxing you online after harassing you for days on end because she somehow got it in her head that you and Darren were sleeping together. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sure, Darren was tall, but he wasn’t your type at all. The bushy beard just didn’t do it for you. Your type was a bit more . . . sleek. Sleek, dark, put together . . . You sigh as you try to fight back your tears.

What the hell were you doing? Was this even worth it? You’d worked so hard to break into the world of production. You worked with all three of Darren’s companies, and had built the backend for two of them. You spent every day maintaining those backends, running admin, and doing literally anything he called and asked you for, including finding and making proposals for marketing clients, something you’d had to teach yourself just to be able to do the job. You lost your fight as tears start to run down your face. How could he say those things? You’d worked yourself mostly to death trying to make the situation work, and he thinks you’ve done nothing because you aren’t being paid? You choke back a sob, leave your apartment unlocked, and just run. You run towards the woods and don’t look back. Branches whip at your skin as you break off the narrow walking path, just wanting to be as far away from everything that’s been causing you to nearly break. Finally, coming to a clearing, you drop to your knees and wail at the top of your lungs. Sobs wrack your form as you let out all the emotion that’s been building over the last months. You don’t like being vulnerable around others, so this is the only safe place you know where you can let everything out.

“Why?? Why am I fucking killing myself for someone who obviously doesn’t give a fuck about me?? Why . . . why am I here? Why am I trying so hard? . . . Why did I think I could do this?” You choke, your self doubt taking control. In all honesty, you couldn’t answer those questions. You’d long since seen a point in continuing to follow your dream career, maybe it was just better to get a regular job. You knew you’d hate it, but at least you knew your bills would be paid.

As your sobs quieted, you wiped your tears on your sleeves and slowly made your way back to your apartment. Nightfall had long since passed. When did it get dark? It didn’t really matter, as the numb feeling across your whole body makes it hard to care about much of anything. Locking your front door, you pull off your now dirt-stained clothes and take a deep breath. You didn’t really remember getting back to the apartment, or much since you left. You just wanted this to be over. For the stress to be gone. And more than anything, for support. You look upwards, and for the first time in years, you pray.

“Please, whoever’s listening, I don’t care. Please. PLEASE give me some encouragement. I can’t keep doing this, and I don’t even know if my dreams are worth it anymore. Please . . . Just send me a sign that I shouldn’t give up . . .” You fall ungracefully onto the bed, not bothering to put on the pajamas that lay on your floor. As you fall into a deep sleep, you fail to hear the soft, almost magical hum that floats through the air and miss the soft touch that brushes your temples. A tall figure kneels next to your bed as you start to toss and turn as your mind turns to nightmares.”

You bold upwards in bed, cold sweat drenching your body. You could have sworn that you felt someone’s presence. . . You rub your bleary, sleep-filled eyes as you look at your phone. 3:47am . . . what the hell were you doing awake? You know one thing, though, once you’re up, you need to get something to drink before you can sleep again. You padded towards your kitchen, but an unfamiliar scent stops you dead in your tracks. What was that . . . Fir trees, sandalwood and . . . leather? You cautiously take the last couple steps and peek around the corner. An unlit candle that had definitely NOT been bought by you sat on your counter on top of an emerald green envelope with “Dear Y/N” scrawled on it in an elegant cursive hand. Turning it over in your hand, you break the gold colored wax seal that depicts two snakes intertwined. Where have you seen that before?

Dear Y/N,

I am sorry to hear that you are not receiving the support or recognition that you deserve. I have learned in my long life that sometimes the only ones we can rely on is ourselves, and if these people do not support you, they are not worthy of your greatness. My Dear, your dream, your passion is always worth your efforts. Do it for you, because it is what you desire and you will succeed, I have no doubt. You are a strong, independent, intelligent person . . . for a mortal. Never doubt yourself, My Dear. Should you ever find yourself in need of one who can see your worth, then just light this candle. I wish you all the best in your pursuits and remember . . . You can do whatever you set your mind to. Until we meet . . .

Loki

The name was elegantly scrolled, even if the word choice was a bit odd. The entire letter . . . Loki. Who was he? How did this get in your kitchen? Your windows had been painted shut by the complex, and you were relatively sure you had locked the door behind you when you came back inside . . . Not that it mattered. The numb feeling didn’t seem to want to leave. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about your own personal safety. Maybe a shower would help you relax enough to sleep. After the letter, you couldn’t bring yourself to crawl back into bed. Still . . . You eye the candle, your hands mindlessly tracing the paper in your hands.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to have someone . . . I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? My bathroom doesn’t have any windows. There’s no way anyone could see it,” you think to yourself as you grab the candle and head towards the bathroom.

The steam feels amazing on your skin already as you get the water near scalding in preparation for your shower. If you’re going to do this at 4am, you might as well do it right. You place your towels and bathrobe on the hook on the back of the bathroom door and glance at the candle. You still hadn’t really decided whether or not to light it. It was a deep green and scented like the forest that you ran into to escape the reality of life. That still didn’t account for the leather and sandalwood you’d smelled, though. Fuck it, at least if some random snuck into your bathroom, there was about a 50/50 chance that he’d just put you out of your misery. You flick your lighter and the familiar scent of pine fills the room. You sigh and step into the steam-filled stall, running your fingers through your hair.

“I really wish you wouldn’t think such things about yourself, Darling.”

You freeze as the deep voice fills the room. He spoke softly, almost as if he were your friend. You whip your head around to see a man in a black suit sitting on your toilet, directly across from the entrance to the shower. You almost want to scream but . . .

“I . . . Do I know you? I mean I know I’ve never met you, but I feel like . . . I mean . . .” You fumble your words. The man’s sudden appearance should have been the thing to catch you off guard, but it was . . . Him. His features were somehow soft, yet stern at the same time. The green of his eyes almost perfectly matched the candle and stationary. His jawline was regal, just like his posture. The suit was well fitted, and you could vaguely make out the tone of his arms. Not to mention, those LEGS. The look of gentle worry that graced his features . . . for some reason, it put you at ease.

Wait. The eyes. Could this be . . . “Loki?” Your voice is almost a whisper as you stand in the water’s heat, hands tucked gently against your chest. The man gave a soft smile, and what seemed like . . . Relief?

“Yes, My Dear. It’s me. I was worried you wouldn’t recognize me. I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised.” His voice was comforting, yet his tone was that of someone who was undoubtedly in charge. “I must apologize for the sudden entrance, I didn’t expect you to light that thing so soon.” You eyed the man, with both curiosity and apprehension. When you did not speak, he continued. “You are such a clever mortal, though I would guess that your waking memory doesn’t know much of your dreams.”

“N-no, I really don’t remember when I dream, but what does that have to do with anything? Why do you keep calling me ‘Mortal’? It’s almost as if you’re implying that you aren’t.” Loki smirks, one eyebrow raised.

“Little mortal, I am a God. You prayed, and I answered. Isn’t that what you wanted? ‘Whoever’s listening’, I believe, were your exact words?” You stand there, dumbfounded. “I have seen your nightmares and I must say, you are definitely a capable mortal. So determined. You have so much life in you, why would you give it up now?”

“I . . . I mean, if Darren doesn't see all the work I do, if he doesn’t think I’m valuable, then why should I try?”

“Then tell me, why does Mr. Albright deserve your efforts and your loyalty? What has he done? I see a large potential in you, My Dear, and I would like to offer you something. However, first I must confirm my suspicions. If I may?” Loki motions at your temples. After only a couple seconds of hesitation, you kneel in front of the God sitting in your bathroom. The pleased hum doesn’t escape your notice and you smile just faintly enough that you hope he didn’t see.

Your eyes flash the moment Loki’s cold fingers touch your temple, and suddenly you’re back in your abuser’s house.

It was winter, and he was drunk. He had lost his phone cord and blamed you he’s screaming, the bourbon on his breath obvious.

“You’re a shit girlfriend! You’re a shit girlfriend now, and you were a shit girlfriend when I met you, that’s why you were single. Go die!!” As he pushes past you, he punches a hole in the wall, mere inches from your head. You fight to keep your face still and unfeeling, hoping that he’ll go back to his office and leave you to lock yourself in the guest room.

The scene shifts, and you find yourself in that same guest room.

You’re bracing against the locked door with all your body weight. No matter how heavy you try to make yourself, you can feel the door start to budge. You make the split second decision to unlock it and let him in, as it will be much worse on you if he has to break in. You retreat into your mind and try to tune him out as he rants and screams about his right to grab your throat. You had fought him in his office when he had grabbed you and tried to sexually assault you. You got away, but at what cost?

Scene after scene flashes before your eyes, each more traumatizing than the last. Finally, Loki comes back into focus in front of you. You hastily grab the trash can beside the toilet and heave into it, bile being the only thing in your system to come up. You cough, and you feel a gentle hand rub your back as you fight to regain your composure.

“Little mortal . . . You’ve been through so much. You are so strong, and are worthy of someone who can see your value. Stand.” You push yourself up, leaning on Loki for support as you steady your face, willing it to neutrality. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Now darling, we’ve moved quite a ways past that. Shower.” You step into the stall, feeling the warmth wash over you. “May I?” The God reaches for the shampoo bottle on the floor of the shower, seemingly unbothered by his suit getting wet. You sit obediently near the shower’s door, and he sits behind you, gently massaging the product into your hair. He takes gentle care to not pull or scrub too hard. You rinse when he tells you to, and hand him the conditioner. As he works the second product into your hair, he sighs. “I did not realize the extent of your abuse. You did not deserve what that ant of a man did to you. Please, take your own wants and needs into consideration when you hear my offer.”

You chew your lip, unsure of how to respond. Do you even remember how to do things for yourself? You could take care of your own necessities, but this is different. When was the last time you’d done something just because you’d wanted to?

“I . . . I don’t even know what I need, much less want. Not anymore.” Your eyes never leave the floor of the shower. Loki’s movements don’t falter as he carefully chooses his words.

“Darling, I have been inside your mind. I know your wants, your needs, your fears and desires, your passions and your sorrows. You want someone to dominate you, but not for the thrill or gratification. No, your desire is much less selfish than that. You desire trust. You want to trust someone enough that you feel confident handing over control. To trust that they have your best interests at heart, and will always act with your needs taken into account. Rinse.” You stand, silently mulling what he says over in your mind.

“And what if you’re wrong? What if I want to be the one with the reins?” He chuckles, a small smile playing his lips.

“Then, Y/N, take those wants into account when you make your decision. However, I can guarantee I am not wrong. You would give up control so willingly if someone had your wellbeing in mind. Just like you did for me. With the shower.”

Goddammit. He was right. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing. Was he telling the truth? Could your outlook be so skewed that basic care and consideration is all you really want?

“Well then, Darling, now it is time for your choice. Come with me. I’ve been watching your drive and your passion for some time, and you are worthy of my attention. Of my care. Come with me, and let me earn the trust that you so crave to share with another being. I promise, you’ll be safe with a God.” You blink in disbelief. Is he offering you a way out? A way to get away from Darren, from the bills, from not always knowing where your next meal was coming from? Was this truely a fresh start?

“And what if I’m not strong enough to build that trust? What if I’m too far gone?” Your voice is soft, uncertain. Loki gently cups your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him.

“Darling, I know you can do it. You can come back from whatever dark place those undeserving insects have left you. You are so, very strong . . . For a Mortal.” You beam and take Loki’s hand. As his Seidr envelops you in a green glow, you think for the first time in forever that maybe, just possibly, everything might be alright.

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extr3medieting · 2 years ago

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god….. i’m still so disgusting. i was supposed to be nearing 170 right now AND I KNOW IM NOWHERE CLOSEEEEE i can’t even bring myself to step on the scale because i know im going to be so disappointed…. i’m pretty sure i gained weight…. maybe i should go step on the scale so i can hate myself and hopefully that will motivate me to actually reach my fucking goals. every time i look in the mirror and see my fat fucking thighs and my disgusting fucking stomach i just want to die…. i can literally feel my back rolls when i walk….

thankfully im working now so i am constantly walking around and barely eating so i’m hoping this gets me back in order. i stopped taking my meds so i could donate plasma but i got a tattoo so i can’t donate anymore and can start taking them again but for some reason i haven’t. i think i’m nervous ab getting used to them again but i can’t reach my goals if i’m still feeling hunger cues. eating less isn’t gonna do anything i need to not consume anything at all and to do that i need to start taking them. i’m gonna start tomorrow i promise. i need to stop putting it off.

my legs and even my fucking calves and SHINS have cellulite like do you understand how fucking FAT you have to be to have cellulite on your SHINS??????? JESUS FUCKING CHRISTTTTTT dont even get me started on my midsection like that alone could make me want to die. i don’t even have morning skinny anymore….. my butt looks so disgusting and fat in a bad way. my arms are fucking massive but atleast i can hide that in my sleeves… but even then my sleeves have been getting tight so that’s another thing. i have this huge fucking double chin that i just dont understand how anyone could be attracted to me. thats probably why no one flirts or talks to me. like i’m literally back to being the fat friend. i can’t even go out because i just look so disgusting in my clothes. i hate going to the gym bc i just look like the fat bitch at the gym but i need to keep going so that i can eventually be the sexy fitness chick. my collarbones are completely enveloped in my body. i just dont understand how i can hate myself so much yet i don’t do anything to change it. well fuck that. its getting warm out and i can’t even wear a reasonably fitted shirt let alone fucking shorts. my roommate was talking about going tanning the other day and i deadass almost had a seizure just thinking about how much of a fat fucking beached whale i would look laying there for everyone to see…

the only good part about me right now is that i’m always going to be beautiful in the face… even then my double chin is ruining that. ive been going to the gym for the past two days so here’s to staying on track with that.

i haven’t had a lay since december and i’m def feeling it lmfaooo but my shame is stronger than my horniness. i can barely stand to touch myself because i just imagine what a fucking whale i must look like laying on my back. theres a cute guy at my job who literally lives in my building and i cant even make a fucking move because i am so disgusting i can’t handle him finding out im actually disgusting

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dinitride-art · 3 years ago

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Blood and Water and The Upside Down

Okay, some thoughts I’m having on watergate here. I recently rewatched the first like ten minutes of S1:E1 and ooooh it’s got some stuff going on.

Like it opens up on stars, which sounds pretty babygirl ur the Venus to me- and it’s also got the yellow, blue, red and white cars in the parking lot outside of Hawkins lab. But that stuff is just some other things I noticed while watching it. What really got me is when the scientist man was running away from the demogorgon… or was it even the demogorgon? We see him lift into the air and struggle which reminds me more of Vecna than someone’s head being bitten off. Also when he presses the elevator button it lights up blue- and he’s wearing a blue shirt and has a blue pen and a blue clip thing. Like he’s covered in blue.

Then we move to the wheelers and the first shot we get is a sprinkler going off outside the house. From the literal start of the series there is implications of something to do with water and the supernatural. We then go into the basement and to Mike who’s saying,

“Somethings coming. Something that hungers for blood. A shadow grows out of the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness. It is almost here.”

We know that this whole game foreshadows Will going missing- but it’s also the start of the series. I think that this game has elements that foreshadow further into the show as well. Specifically I want to look at the word blood.

90% of blood plasma (55% of the blood) is water. There’s about 5 litres of blood in the average person. So that’s a significant amount of water just in the blood (I didn’t do the math but it’s like more than a litre). The entire body is 45-75% water. And bloods about 10% ish of the body’s weight. The human body has a lot of water in it.

When the demogorgon attacks it bites off peoples heads. In the neck there are the carotid arteries. Those bad boys don’t stop bleeding very easily. We also saw with Bob in Hawkins lab in season two that the demogorgons were tearing into his chest/ the place with the most blood circulating at any given time. Bloods just bouncing all up an around in the heart (I mean this literally because it does a thing where it has a weird turn around in circulation that’s fun and funky… and very necessary to getting blood the places it needs to go). In season three the mind flayer just started exploding things into bones and tissue to make a very scary recreation of itself out of living matter. Season four we’ve got the bats in the Upside Down. They’ve got fangs and are biting into people left and right.

Season four is also where we see that the Upside Down version of lovers lake is empty. And that there is one of the four gates in lovers lake that opens up. The water falls down through the gate and presumably into the Upside Down. There’s also so much more imagery with water though out the whole series that is connected both to danger, life and the Upside Down.

One specific one is the blood donation poster in Max’s hospital room. It’s red and yellow and says something like don’t be afraid give blood. When Vecna trances people their blood is pushed out from their eyes- because he’s exploding their brains I guess. But blood also does similar things when El uses her powers. Blood is everywhere and it’s full of water and maybe the Upside Down is just that plant from little shop of horrors and it’s thirsty.

#watergate #water theory #it doesn’t help that the demogorgons look like they’re drinking from corpses #when they attack either

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thatdiabolicalfeminist · 5 years ago

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last night in one of my story dreams the new big thing was to sell some kind of fluid from your body to corporations who made it seem like a fun and easy way to get quick cash. when asked directly what the effects on the seller were, the corporate spokespeople smiled and said, well, the difference is so slight it’s really hard to tell!! but we’re offering such and such a deal for a limited time!!

and people who were really hard put got the app on multiple phones so they could just sell and sell and sell. one guy in my dream died from selling so much because it was winter and he’d lost his job and he had to take care of his family somehow.

anyway in the dream (as I often am in our escalating dystopia in real life) I was like “this is too over the top”

but then I woke up and I remembered blood plasma and how basically everyone i know irl has “donated” (sold their plasma) as a routine thing, only stopping if the side effects just become too much or if something changed to make them less desperate. I don’t know of anyone who’s DIED from it but that’s the major difference from my dream.

and I mentioned this to a middle class person I know bc how fucking ridiculous that i dreamed a dystopia that’s real this time!!

and it turns out she doesn’t know a single person (besides me) who’s ever tried to donate blood plasma. she didn’t know that the centres are placed in poor neighborhoods throughout america, that it’s marketed as this like easy fun (they have like wifi and stuff) way to earn $50 in two hours doing nothing but fucking around on your phone. she didn��t know that they then sell the plasma for a huge markup to medical corps who will use it to make a huge profit on what THEY paid for it - making products the people whose blood they used will probably never be able to access if they need it.

like everything i told her about it was news, bc they’re not targeting her friends and family for this. the fact that the “safeguards” to make sure you don’t “donate” too much are easily circumvented by desperate people, that some people quit donating because they lose too much weight (in a bad way, don’t get ideas, you lose muscle) or feel too weak too long after or find the cost of replacing the lost calories makes it not worth it.

like this is mosly pretty common knowledge among the poors I know but only cos we’re the ones being targeted for it, we’re the ones whose friends have the stories of that time they broke the rules and donated too often and passed out driving to work after even though they’d never passed out before in their life - “so make sure you eat something immediately, it helps!”

we’re the ones who know you gotta avoid certain techs because they’ll fuck something up and so and so had this horrible reaction to like a misplaced line and had to go to the er two days later after the tech and receptionist both said don’t worry about it, the swelling will go down... and the tech’s still working there after the complaint that no medical assistance was offered at all

idk i don’t have a point except this is severely fucked and it’s apparently somewhat invisiblised. do non poors know that poor people are very literally selling necessary body parts to survive? like even donating within the easily-circumvented guidelines makes people more tired and feel weak, it’s noticeable for a lot of people, and it’s just a normal thing to do for a lot of people.

like idk how people think this isn’t a fucking dystopia and that the way things are is just fine and normal... people should not be forced to sell their necessary fucking body parts for the spending money. people shouldn’t be put in situations that desperate. people shouldn’t be denied access to medical help their lifeblood literally helped create bc they can’t provide profits on that end of the process as well.

although - oh! I almost forgot - remember when a while back we found out that some of this plasma was being used as a quack "treatment” to keep rich people young?? LITERALLY A DYSTOPIAN NOVEL.

(like that bit sounds like a conspiracy theory bc there ARE a lot of conspiracy theories abt that mostly involving antisemitic blood libel myths but apparently some capitalists took the conspiracy theories as inspiration bc it’s actually something multiple capitalists sat down and decided to try to make money off of.)

#rants #non poor people read this #poverty #capitalism #thatdiabolicalfeminist

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