#childhood dog just died and i was assaulted a few weeks ago

[flowersintheimpala69]

Sam Winchester & Dean Winchester & Winchester Family \\ Apple by charli xcx

[rebellum]

God writing that last post was so, so hard.

Rn I feel the weight of every sadness and every bad thing that's happened to me since I was 9 and had my first important pet death

[auroraphilealis]

any book recs?

Heck yes I do!

Simon VS. The Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli: Even if you saw the movie already, the book is like a different storyline. They’re super close but very different and I literally can’t decide which I prefer

It by Stephen King: I’m not actually the biggest horror fan of all time but after seeing the movie, I fell in love with this idea. I’m only about half way through the novel version, but there is something insane about the way Stephen King writes. He truly understands human’s on a level not many people do, or at least understands them enough to REALLY draw out the true horror of the world. I don’t know man, it’s a good fucking book. 

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: Actually though, i re-read this after having read it 6 years ago, and holy shit this is actually amazing. I love this novel. Frankenstein is… a fascinating story. 

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak: Seriously fucking amazing. It’s about a little girl growing up in Nazi Germany only it’s told from Death’s point of view, and I know what you’re thinking - how the fuck? But holy shit it is a fucking crazy good story, and the character of Death had me hooked on the first page

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski: One of my all time favorite books. It’s kind-of sort-of the story of Hamlet, but with a totally different modern revamp. The main character is mute, was born mute, and his closet relationship is with his dog. His mom marries his uncle after his father dies in a fire, and.. well. It’s just incredibly beautiful and amzing.

The Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind: Look. This is the longest book series I have ever read. I used to spend every second of every day reading these books. But if you’re a fantasy fan, and huge word counts don’t scare you, then good LORD is this the series for you. I think back on this series so fucking often, and I’ve read certain books in it like, six times each. Currently, my mom has my copies or I would be READING IT AGAIN since this series hass been on my mind alot again. Again, it’s super long. I think currently we’re on book like… 27. I googled it. holy shit it’s grown since I last picked it up. The best part about this series is 1. You can technically stop at any point because each book has a relatively good ending that will keep you satisfied (except book 1 and 2, you really have to finish 3 while youre at it). 2. They reflect the modern world so well sometimes you’re just godamn wow. Seriously. If you love fantasy, please give it a try. It’s worth it. 

The Host by Stephanie Meyer: Look, I know what you’re all going to say. Twilight was terrible, why would we read this? Listen, LISTEN I actually love The Host. It was really well done, and it definitely Stephanie Meyer’s better novel. The movie adaptation sucked ass but I actually DO still read this book over and over again. It’s a sci-fi novel about alien’s coming to Earth and taking over host bodies. They do this on lots of planets, and Earth is their newest requistion. It’s also the only planet to fight back well enough that the aliens actually think they might win. It’s not as weird as it sounds. It’s a love story, and it goes far more in depth with the meaning of life and stuff like that then Twilight could dream of, so give it a try. 

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood: Actually amazing. I read it for class like… idek, 5 years ago maybe? When I heard it was getting it’s own show I was like !!!! but I haven’t actually watched the show version yet, so I have no idea how it compares to the novel. The novel is fucking amazing though. Legit made me cry. However, if you have a sexual trauma or trigger, this might be a difficult read in some select parts :/ Still fucking worth it times ten. I literally bought the book when my class was over, it was so good (the teacher actually, actually handed out copies, how insane is that? She was amzing)

Beloved by Toni Morrison: FUCK SO GOOD. I’ve read it twice, both times around school, and got to write papers on it twice as well. This is… this is one hell of a book. Both times I read it, I got so much more of it than the first time. THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK. It’s about a former slave whose haunted by the baby daughter she killed to prevent her children from ending up slaves as well. This was just before slavery was abolished, as well, and while her baby daughter died, her other three kids lived. However, now her home is haunted, and the baby ACTUALLY comes back. It’s crazy and amazing and one of my favorite novels of all time. I can’t pick favorites guys, okay, but I love this one so fucking much. 

Pellinor Series by Alison Croggon: Listen. Listen. I read this book when I was in high school immediately after I hurt my back so bad I was stuck in bed for a week, and literally continue to have issues with too this day. I CANNOT TELL YOU what the fucking plot was, and apparently there are 2 more books in the series that I didn’t know about, BUT I LOVED AND ADORED THIS BOOK OKAY IT WAS A WONDERFUL FANTASY NOVEL AND IT HAS A FEMALE LEAD ALRIGHT ITS GREAT JUST TAKE MY WORD FOR IT AND READ IT

Uglies Series by Scott Westserfeld: I remember finally getting my hands on this series and reading it in like, two days. Idk. It was great. If you can’t tell, I love fantasy and sci-fi and horror, which all mesh together horribly and you can never tell them apart. This isn’t horror though, just the other two. It’s about a world where when people turn a certain age, they get to become a “pretty’ which means to have surgery done to make them look perfect - only the reason for this is to dumb down society. Read it. I love it. 

Vampire Academy by Richelle Mead: I love vampire novels. If you couldn’t tell, this is a vampire novel. It’s one of my preferred series though, I think Mead did an amazing job crafting the world she crafts. Vampires aren’t under wraps, nor are they inherently evil, but they do work in a really weird system where you have the Special vampires who the other vampires protect, and then like the bodyguard vampires. I can’t fully remember, it’s been a long time. But regardless, I remember this being one of the few novel series that made me cry, and I still love it to this day. 

Harry Potter by JK Rowling: I thought this was such a give in that I didn’t put it on the list until now but actually like. Super good. I grew up in this series and sometimes I talk about it and remember I’m 24 cause some people I know have never read it and IT WAS LITERALLY MY CHILDHOOD. Still think it’s worth it, even as I poke more and more holes in the story, because the older you get, the more you start to recognize problematic things. Clearly, Harry Potter was meant for children, not an adult who wants to critize everything. GOOD READ THOUGH

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell: I grew up the girl writing fanfiction hid away in the back of the class because I didn’t want anyone to know. I look up to the people older than me at the time who developed and crafted the world we live in now, where Fanfiction is almost acceptable. Reading this novel... brought me right back to the Harry Potter days when the fandom was sitll new, underground, and ao3 didn’t exist. Honestly... it’s a really good book, and really hits home for people like me who write fanfiction and want nothing more than to write novels one day. 

Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin: But actually the books are really good. I fucking adore the show and that’s what got me into the books, but the books are HELLA good. Weirdly, Daenery’s Targaryen is not the most well written character ever, and I blame it on Martin being a guy, becasue sometimes I actually hate her in the novels (seriously, he makes her sound... like a child, which I guess she kind of is) BUT one of my favorite things in the novel is that her husband Khal Drogo does not sexually assault her in the novels. He’s super sweet and good to her, and honestly just. Yep. Yeah. Good series.

What Happened to Lani Garver by Carol Plum Ucci: The most heartwrenching book of all time. I can’t tell you how long I cried over this book. I’m literally getting tearful as I think about it. It is... fucking BEAUTIFUL. I want to read it right this fucking second. It’s about a girl who was in remission from cancer, but who joins the cheerleading team. Only, shes technically too tall to be a cheerleader, so she gets an ED which actually puts her at risk for remission. She meets Lani Garver - the literal emodiment of a nonbinary person before that term every existed. Lani Garver is... a fucking angel. An actual angel okay. They help the main character through so much, specifically bullying, and Lani taught ME so much when I read it. The author refers to Lani as he, but remember that it was written before nonbinary was an accepted (possible even before it was a fully labeled) thing, but the book is SO worth reading. I. I’m going to go read it again. 

Streams of Babel and it’s sequel The Fire Will Fall by Carol Plum Ucci: I originally read the second novel first on accident, which just goes to show you how good an author Ucci is becasue I didn’t even NOTICE until I got to the end and saw there was a first novel, oops. But, its a take on the lives of 4 kids in a situation of chemical warfare, and what happens to them when they get poisoned by the water. I think one of the kids is a fucking comptuer genius. Idk, I can’t fully remember, but it is one of my favorite novels, so check them out. 

I’m like 100% that there’s more I could list but those are the ones I could currently recall BECAUSE THIS IS A MONUMENTAL TASK AND I LOVE BOOKS

[cameronomicon]

I Dream of Jeanie

This blog begins like everything else: with the supernatural. A ghost story. Well, it’s a story about two ghosts: one is corporeal, flesh and bone, hungry. He haunts his own life and the lives of the people who love him. That ghost is me, Cam, a career alcoholic, prescription amphetamine and nicotine addict, and struggling adult human. The other ghost is haunting him. And others. In Orange County, California, of all the world’s god-forsaken places. 

It’s September 2, 2018. I have just emerged from medical detox in a treatment facility in Mission Viejo, California, where I was admitted the evening of August 30. 

The days and weeks preceding this were a blur of teary eyed calls with friends and coworkers, vomiting, tremors, all-day drinking, zero rest, little food, and, finally, an evening drive south to rehab with a very patient friend. I had my dog in tow. The vomit he had saved for over an hour an a half was his parting gift for my friend and her car’s interior as we pulled into the driveway of our suburban destination. 

She is a very, very patient friend. 

The first thing I remember at the facility was the cops showing up to deal with a violent intake who screamed at the graveyard shift tech relentlessly about getting their medication. For the next two and a half days, I staggered around the in an Ativan-induced fog. I managed to execute a supervised grocery run, though I have no recollection of this event. 

After detox, I was driven to one of the houses where I would undergo residential treatment for the disease that has ruled my life in one manifestation or another since that first, boiling-hot, high-school-sized swig of whisky in the Wyman family back house all those years ago. It was, frankly, magic. Alcohol activated something in me that finally allowed me to feel comfortable in my own skin, around others, and as a part of the world. 

A few days passed, and I began to emerge from behind the benzodiazepine cataract. I woke up early one day, as I did every day, and stumbled about in my coffee-making and dog-letting-out routine. I stood outside with a steaming mug amidst the low fog of the costal marine layer, which enveloped palm trees in a smudgy gray that, especially in the golden sunlight of the hours which follow, always seemed eerie and alien. That’s when the graveyard tech walked out to join me. 

“Morning, how you feeling?” he asked. 

“I’m ok.” My dog set off across the yard at a full clip to pursue a rustle in a bush. “Slept like shit, though.”

“Oh really? Must have been that woman screaming.” He laughed.

“The what?” I was incredulous. It was too early. I turned away and watched the fog lick at the clay rooftop tiles of the ascending rows of identical homes on the ridge that kept us from the sea.

“You didn’t hear it? I hear the screams every night.”

*

Over the next few days, residents and staff alike compared notes. All who heard the screaming said it happened late at night, around 3am, and they could not pinpoint the source. Some said it came from across the street, others swore it they heard the scream coming from down the hill. Some of the staff had contemplated calling the police. 

I never heard the screaming because I went to bed too early to be a witness. But there were the nightmares. Horrifying, vivid nightmares the likes of which I’d never experienced before. Graphic visions of being sexually assaulted, of torture, of humiliation and suffering. Horrible, paralyzing dreams that would interrupt my sleep several times every night and continued to haunt me well into my waking hours. The following is from my journal, slightly edited:

“I had a dream last night that I was violently raped by (someone) ... who I was sent to ... as punishment for making a rug dirty. (They) screamed at me and laughed while (they) did it and when I cried (they) made it worse ... Then I was surrounded by empty beer bottles in my childhood bedroom and voices kept saying 'I thought you quit.’”

At the time of this writing, I feel that the whole, unedited content of this and the other dreams I experienced is too graphic for me to feel comfortable sharing. 

This happened to me every single night for over a week.

*

When we told our reiki practitioner about the screaming, she was unfazed. 

“That sounds like Jeanie,” she said matter-of-factly before she began our sessions. “Jeanie died here. Fell out of her bed one night.”

Reiki is a dubious energy healing technique that was offered as a part of the suite of care in our treatment center. Having experienced it myself, I can say that reiki seems to be at best a meditative aid and at worst some psychic hoodwinkery. What we learned is that our reiki master had also serviced the patients in palliative care at our house when it was still a hospice, which was not very long ago at all. She had treated and came to know Jeanie, whose spirit she immediately and authoritatively claimed was the source of the screaming. 

That we seemed to have inherited both reiki and a restless, screaming ghost was a lot to digest on a warm, dry Thursday afternoon in rehab.

What most people don’t know about Orange County, if in fact they know anything at all, is that it is the treatment capital of the world. There is a massive drug and alcohol rehabilitation industry here, with facilities dotting suburban neighborhoods and costal communities alike. Many, such as ours, are indistinguishable from other homes from the outside. Only when you go inside can you spot the differences: no locks on the doors, cameras everywhere, California-required hazard signs and fire extinguishers, motivational-adjacent but woefully empty wall platitudes. 

“Don’t dream your life...live your dreams!” taunted me in perfect cursive from its place on a kitchen wall. In that moment, if I lived my dreams, I’d be in the worst hell I could imagine. Most mornings I simply ignored it as I avocadoed my toast. It was ultimately harmless and forgettable, though I admit I got a mildly satisfying kick out of sneering at it. 

Having administered both reiki and information about our ghost, the master left. We living residents of the house all sat together outside on the back patio to discuss what she had told us. The others smoked or vaped as they speculated about what it could all mean. I crammed a few handfuls of candy in my face, and then I told them about my dreams. 

“Holy god in heaven,” one of my friends cried out. “Now that’s some sick shit.”

Eyes downcast, faces ashen, I could tell my information had affected the others and added a gravity to the situation that hadn’t been there before. We did not speak of it again. 

That night, I dreamed about someone I loved once who couldn’t love me. I saw her across a crowded dance in a school gym. She was made up beautifully, wearing a blue dress, her hair cut short, colored blonde and bouncy. She smiled and reached out to me. I tried to grab her hand, but she fell back into darkness, crying out for me, falling farther and father out of reach, her eyes filled with fear. 

That was the last dream I had at the house. We found out suddenly the next day that we would be moving to a different location, and that the facility we were leaving would be transitioned into a detox. 

Of all the nightmares, this felt the cruelest somehow. I woke up at 3:30am and just sobbed. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. And this was on top of all of the other challenging work of getting sober. 

But I never had another bad dream after we moved. And the screaming did not follow us.

* I would find out later that a common side effect of Seroquel, along with fugue-state ambulation and sleep-eating, is nightmares. This drug is often prescribed to patients who are in post-acute withdrawal from drugs and alcohol to treat insomnia. Seroquel is what I started taking when I moved into residential treatment. 

Graveyard shifts are notoriously hard on the human body. Inverting the natural  sleep rhythm can do an absolute number on the brain, and often leads to chronic insomnia. Anyone who has stayed up all night can attest to how significantly it messes with your internal systems. I have stayed up multiple consecutive nights before, and have hallucinated. I have heard screaming when there was none, I have seen shadows morph into human forms and vanish just as quickly. 

This is all to say that there seems to be a perfectly logical explanation for the dreams, for the screaming. The reiki master could have just been having some fun with the unruly and obnoxious adult children that were her clients. She could just be full of shit. Night shift guys could have just heard things, or maybe it was a coyote. An owl. Someone actually screaming (hey, maybe it was a detox patient at another facility!) One morning I awoke earlier than usual to find one of the graveyard techs standing in the dark, staring at a street lamp. He was transfixed by a silvery form hanging below it in the yellow light.

“Is that a goddamn bat?” he asked, horrified.

It was a spiderweb.

But...I continued to take the Seroquel after we moved houses, and the nightmares never returned. The other house, Jeanie’s house, became a chaotic mess for the staff. Patients in detox were found fucking in multiple rooms, people disappeared in the middle of the night and others showed up suddenly in the morning...the entire detox program of this treatment facility seemed to be plunged into unmitigated bedlam, and it wasn’t like that before. Sure, there is always going to be some drama at places like this, but techs said they’d never seen things so bad. Anywhere. Additional workers were hired. Others quit without notice. And I have to wonder.

So, this story also ends like everything else: with the supernatural, with the unknown. Life ends with a big fat question mark, and that’s ok. One thing I’ve grown to appreciate is not having all the answers, to accepting the unknown and allowing myself to dip a toe into superstition. Human beings are no strangers to faith, but faith is especially vital for a person like me: faith in myself that I can stay sober, faith in redemption, faith that there is something, somewhere, greater than me that can save my ass. Faith in good friends, faith in good dogs. Faith in a life worth living well. Faith that Jeanie will find whatever she needs to cease her wailing, and faith that one day I’ll be there in time to stop somebody’s falling.

[shewhorunswithfandoms]

Resistance Chapter 1

So. I’m going to regret this later. But this is the first chapter of a Young Justice fanfiction I’ve spent a long time writing. It features an original character  (albeit a bit of a cliche one) but here you go~

Tags: @writing-yj @imagineyoungjustice

It used to be different. There used to be a time when people would laugh at the concept of real life superheroes. They didn’t appear all at once; they popped up slowly. It began with rumours in Gotham City of a vigilante, then Metropolis was attacked by aliens and Starling City gained a vigilante when they changed to Star City. At first, people didn’t believe the rumours. As more sightings headlined in their respective local newspapers, however, we began to believe, to hope. We began our downfall.

It all started when the Flash, Central City’s Scarlet Speedster, died. President Luthor is who everyone knew was behind the death; but any evidence implicating him would mysteriously disappear before it could be used against him. The Justice League wasn’t seen for nearly a week, assumed to be in grieving of one of the founding heroes.

We were wrong though. In our blind trust of these heroes, we forgot they weren’t perfect. We thought they had retreated to simply let the news sink in, but we could have never known they were really plotting. They call it Liberation Day, June 20th, 2009, or the day Superman murdered President Luthor and took over the government. He had melted Luthor where he sat, on the chair in the Oval Office. We laughed hesitantly, so very sure it was just a prank in bad taste. Our illusion shattered quickly, as we screamed in terror of these false gods.

Liberation Day was six years, nine months and twenty days ago. The Justice League and the golden days of safety are just fading memories to the younger generations. The Justice Lords and terror are our new reality. They rule with an iron fist, our every action watched by their cameras and spies.

Murmurs of a resistance sometimes catch my ear before they are quickly squashed. Murmurs saying the Bat isn’t dead, that he is trying to fix what happened nearly seven years ago. They are hard rumours to believe though, no one has seen even the Bat’s shadow since Liberation Day.

Batman wasn’t the only one to disappear. On that one day, on June 21st 2009, every single superhero who was opposed to the Justice Lords’ new rule just vanished. For the first few days, Gotham was a madhouse. The villains and gangs reigned superior. We all cowered like dogs and hid in our houses until the streets outside went silent. We watched as, one by one, every villain outside was systematically slaughtered by the Lords, only a few being left alive to go on and serve as deputies. The citizens of Gotham watched in horror, unbelieving that our so called heroes could do such a thing. Me? I watched it just as they did, with confusion and shock. I had grown up with these heroes. Superman was Uncle Clark to me, he was the nice one who always snuck me cookies. He was the one who helped convince Bruce to let me aid him as a heroine.

This was my family murdering people on the streets. I had shamed myself, saying I should be out there defending my neighbors as the blood filled the streets. Bruce’s order to give up my cowl and lay low had overridden any thoughts I had of running out there. I cried myself to sleep every night, hearing people cry out for the caped crusaders who had defended them before this. I cried because my friends, my family, were no more. I cried because this was not how it was supposed to be. We were here to protect people, not massacre the ones who dared to defy.

It hurts still, even now (six years, nine months, twenty days). Today is the day I’ve always been fearing, since the takeover and Bruce’s disappearance. The news was blaring out the headline Gotham rebel arrested and a picture of my former brother in arms, Richard Grayson. They had put out wanted alerts for every member of the Batfamily the moment we went underground. I hadn’t seen him in so long (six, nine, twenty) but I would know his crystal blue eyes anywhere. They didn’t have the same sparkle as they had before, he had grown a beard and looked so very thin.

“The notorious rebel Richard Grayson has been apprehended by Happy Harbor police this week. He has been #2 most wanted since Liberation Day almost seven years ago. He is being arrested for acts of treason, being an illegal vigilante in Gotham years ago and assaulting one of the Justice Lords. They are still searching for Bruce Wayne and Alexandria Kyle, #1 and #3 Most Wanted respectively. Please call your local police if you have seen either of these fugitives.” The news woman read off the teleprompter in an almost dead monotone, the screen switching to show pictures of the other fugitives. I blinked, hardly recognizing my own photo. I had not seen myself since I changed my appearance, and not heard my true name in just as long. I went by Abigail Ramone now, and looked nearly completely opposite of Alexandria.

My shocked gaze at the ancient television screen was interrupted as my phone rang. All use of cellphones had been forbidden, and contact restricted to only phone lines the Lords could monitor. I hesitantly crossed into the hallway off my living room, hovering over the phone as it rang a few more times. I had waited a tad too long, however, and the answering machine kicked on with a whirring, creaking, groan.

“Abby, it’s your Uncle Moony. I was hoping you could meet me at the park down the street from your mother’s old home tonight three hours before curfew.” A gruff voice crackled out of the machine, soundly awfully familiar for some reason. I didn't have an Uncle, let alone one named Moony. I glanced back to the living room, where the flat voice was still reading facts about Dick, Bruce, and Alexandria. It was suspiciously timed, a phone call from a fake Uncle and Dick getting caught.

“Most knew the three as former vigilantes in Gotham. They were the notorious Batman, Nightwing, and Feline. They all vanished after Liberation Day, and have not been seen until now. Wayne is believed to be somewhere around Keystone or Central City, while Kyle is believed to be in Coast City. In other news..” I turned the television off. I didn't get my hopes up on Bruce being near Central considering how off my supposed location was. I had stayed in Gotham because I knew that was the last place they would expect me to stay, and because I couldn't bring myself to leave the only city I’d ever known.

It was almost surreal still, seeing the Gotham of now. Don’t get me wrong, Gotham was still the most crime infested city in the nation. It still rank of corruption and drugs, but it didn’t hold a candle to the Gotham of yesterday. No more villains such as Poison Ivy and Riddler interrupted our days. Some had survived the first wave of massacre, fleeing to Arkham Island; but the Lords had actually been trying to drive them there. They sank the island, with all of it’s occupants. They hadn’t just killed some villains; they kill innocent workers and guards who had done no crime against them. All of the big bads had been there, Joker and Harley, Penguin and Killer Croc, Riddler and Ivy, Freeze and Scarecrow, Two-Face and Firefly. All of them gone the instant Lord Orin had commanded the ocean to swallow Arkham Island whole.

There was anarchy at first, various gangs trying to get their piece of Gotham until Lord Diana established her Amazonian deputies as the Gotham Queens. Most of the big cities had a ‘patron Lord’, which were the heroes who used to protect them. Metropolis became the new capital, with Lord Kal at the helm. Washington DC was destroyed when the Lords bombed the Hall of Justice to keep people from gathering there in protest. Lord Diana had chosen Gotham when Batman and his heroes went into hiding, knowing we would be formidable if we ever decided to try and take back Gotham. Lord Oliver had assumed Star City, establishing his deputies as Roy Harper and Ray Palmer when Dinah Lance had vanished. Lord Orin had returned to Atlantis after the Lords established their hold and hadn’t been seen since. Lord J’onn remained, to my knowledge, in the floating satellite the League had once called home, presumably to monitor any intergalactic threats. As for the rest of the world, all travel outside the country had been prohibited; our contact with the outside forbidden. We knew nothing of what happened to the rest of the world six years, nine months and twenty days ago.

I glanced back at the answering machine. The house that was listed on my forged papers as my childhood home didn’t have a park anywhere near it. The only place I can remember having a park nearby was my true home, which frightened me. Whoever that had been knew who I really was. These cover identities were secrets, shared only with the fellow protectors of Gotham. They were all set up when we first became heroes, and we worked hard on making them believable. We added paperwork to the trail, growing the covers as we grew ourselves. A glance at the clock told me I had just enough time to get changed and arrive early in order to get a good hiding spot to figure out who ‘Uncle Moony’ really was.

[mistyhollowpro]

I was tagged by @goldendaydna​. You tricky person, you. e-e

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people. <- Imma break that last one.

THE LAST: 1. Drink: Water 2. Phone call: Insurance company.  3. Text message: Kung Fu Panda Gif 4. Song you listened to: White Noise by Femm. 5. Time you cried: Probably within the last couple of weeks.

HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: not even once <- You and I both, Day. You and I both. 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: I have kissed someone... My Levi body pillow. No regrets. 8. Been cheated on: Yep. This kid back in second grade cheated using my test. The asshat. e-e 9. Lost someone special: Of course. If anyone answered no to this, then what the hell is your secret?  10. Been depressed: Yep. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: I’ve been giggly before, but never inebriated to the point of not being able to drive. I’m still fully cognizant, and trust me when I say that I am so over protective of that shit. I won’t ever be the reason someone else or their family is harmed or killed. Ask @marichansensei​. She would tell you.

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12-14: Blues, greens, and most recently, lilac. Just painted my whole room in that color. 

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: Yes 16. Fallen out of love: Yes... I unfortunately had to break it off with Eren of Attack on Titan. *Sniffles* You will always be apart of me. 17. Laughed until you cried: Of course. Don’t let me read funny auto corrects from iphones. I sound like I’m having an asthma attack mixed with crying.  18. Found out someone was talking about you: Yep. I work in a salon as an assistant leader. When someone isn’t doing their job right and I get on them about it, you know they’re bitching in the back. 19. Met someone who changed you: Uhh, not changed me per say. Changed a view point maybe, but not changed me. 20. Found out who your friends are: Yes 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Lance McClain isn’t on my FB friends list, so no.

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Just about all of them. 23. Do you have any pets: Four cats and a dog.  24. Do you want to change your name: My middle name, sure. Only because of where it comes from. Otherwise, no. 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: ...... Holy shit, what did I do? o-o I don’t remember. 26. What time did you wake up: 6:30 a.m. -_- 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Reading fan fiction which is bad because I have dark circles, and I can’t have that. <- I have to steal Day’s answer here, friend. I cannot deny what I’ve done. 28. Name something you can’t wait for: VOLTRON SEASON 3 AND MIRACULOUS LADYBUG SEASON 2!!! Also, world peace.  29. When was the last time you saw your mom: Five seconds ago when she walked out of the room. 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: This is a long winded, open ended question, but a short answer would be nothing. While I have many complaints and may not always be happy, I need to personally accept what I’ve been given and make the most of it. 31. What are you listening right now: The voice in my head.  32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yes 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: People at work who don’t listen to me, because they’re older, but still terribly immature and won’t do their job. If you’re 53 years old, you should not have a 22 year old telling you how to do the job right!!! 34. Most visited Website: Youtube or Netflix. I never go on cable anymore.

LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME 35. Mole/s: One on my toe. 36. Mark/s: I’ve got a scar under my lip, on my foot, and freckles. 37. Childhood dream: The childhood dream was to be a chocolatier. Not even kidding you. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory right here, friends.  38. Hair color: Auburn. I have a stripe of green under it though. Gotta make that a new color. 39. Long or short hair: I’d say mid-length for now. It’s past my shoulders a few inches. 40. Do you have a crush on someone: *Sighs*................ Listen, it is not my fault Bex-Taylor Klaus made me gay for her, OKAY?!

41. What do you like about yourself: My open personality and my stubbornness to never change myself, because of other people. 

42. Piercings: My ears are pierced, but I never wear earrings.  43. Bloodtype: I wouldn’t know. Get me a vampire. They can tell me.  44. Nickname: Misty when I’m online. 45. Relationship status: Forever alone. 46. Zodiac: Aquarius.  47. Pronouns: She/her 48. Favorite TV Show: Voltron, AOT, Nabari No Ou, Home Improvement, Friends, Owari No Seraph, lots more sitcoms. Wait, was I supposed to pick one? 49. Tattoos: None right now. I’d love a puzzle piece and black kitten for my brother and my cat, but I’d also love to go full Voltron trash and get all the paladin V’s.  50. Right or left hand: Right hand. I am that dominant gene. Fear me. 51. Surgery: Tonsils, stitches in my food, and most recently my wisdom teeth. 52. Hair dyed in different color: The little green strip.  53. Sport: Horseback riding.  54. (question wasn’t here) <- Well where did it go?!  55. Vacation: Japan twice. 56. Pair of trainers: Are you talking about pokemon trainers?

MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: Noodles with beef. 58. Drinking: Water 59. I’m about to: Upload some Pance fanfiction.

Uhhh, where did 60 and 61 go???

62. Want: World peace and for children to not go hungry... But I could also go for some cookie dough right about now. 63. Get married: No.  64. Career: Right now hair, but I’m going into voice acting. 

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: Can’t argue either of these since I’ve only ever gotten a hug.  66. Lips or eyes: Eyes 67. Shorter or taller: Reach for the skies, friends! 68. Older or younger: Younger. Young people are cool, because their excuse of being children is because they are children. When adults act like children, they’re usually doing it because they aren’t getting their way, but have the money to sue people.  70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Arms to wrap around me in a hug please?  71. Sensitive or loud: Loud. I have an autistic brother, another brother, and loud parents. I can’t live without ruckus.  72. Hook up or relationship: Relationship. PLEASE.  73. Troublemaker or hesitant: That depends how far the trouble maker goes. Are we talking put whipped cream in your shoes trouble maker or I’m about to go rob a store trouble maker?

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a Stranger: No? That’s called sexual assault, friend. 75. Drank hard liquor: Nope 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: No. Can’t see without them. 77. Turned someone down: Yeah. I get hit on by men in their 60′s-70′s while cutting their hair. I reiterate: I’m 22.  79. Broken someone’s heart: In fanfiction, sure. I torture characters. 80. Had your heart broken: Yeah 81. Been arrested: No, but I’ve ridden in a cop car before. That was fun. :’) 82. Cried when someone died: Yes 83. Fallen for a friend: A crush once or twice, yes.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: Yes, it’s just going to take some time.  85. Miracles: Yeah. 86. Love at first sight: No. Attraction at first sight? Of course.  87. Santa Claus: Don’t make me answer this. I’m in denial and I refuse to answer this.  88. Kiss on the first date: I wouldn’t mind it so long as it’s the right person. I’ve been raised with the idea first kisses and stuff like that go to the right person, hence why I’m 22 and still single. 

OTHER: 90. Current best friend name: Her name is Pidge Gunderson. Fight me.  91. Eyecolor: Brown. Mud.  92. Favorite movie: Spirit, Stallion of the Cimarron. 

@goldendaydna​ Why would you torture me with this much writing?! X’D

Feel free for anyone who wants to do this. I’m too lazy to tag.