#expect more updates as i throw myself into my writing to cope

[aqua-turbulence]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Malevolent (Podcast) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: John/Arthur Lester, John/Noel | Charlie Dowd, John/Arthur Lester/Noel | Charlie Dowd Characters: Arthur Lester, John (Malevolent), Noel | Charlie Dowd, Kayne (Malevolent) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Murder, sorta?, John has a Bad Time, im too tag to tired

Summary:

Arthur’s fingers continue to dance along the piano keys. Kayne’s voice makes for a horrid accompaniment, “How would you like a break, Artie?”

The playing stops. Arthur at last speaks up, “...What?”

“From John.” A beat of incredulous silence, “Oh, come on now, don’t look at me like that! I would never even think about separating my favorite dream team permanently. Just until you find the Black Stone. Then bing-bang-boom you’re back together! You get a reprieve from mister lies-a-lot, I get the Black Stone, and John. Well…John gets what’s coming to him.”

[theghostus]

Hey, you...

It's been 6 months since my last update. Fuck.

Since then, I've had 2 jobs. Both are full-time, yet something in them didn't click for me.

My first job was at a physio clinic. I thought, well, during the interview, the Head of Operations summarised the job involved simple 4 things. I was like, cool, it was something I could do. Just do the damn job and go home. Turns out, it needs a lot of my peopling skills. Juggling to do the daily job (talking and scheduling appt based on the treatment plan given), the needing to follow up with clients (and no-show ones) to the daily closing. Not including the therapists' different personalities. The daily meetings (omg). At the end of the day, I was emotionally exhausted. I was stretching myself thin. When I was hired, there were 3 of us. One by one, quit due to reasons, including yours truly. The management assured me they would be hiring more, but I couldn't see myself doing the same thing repeatedly without completing the tasks set out the day before. I don't know what this is. I supposed it's the perfectionist in me, or I'm just nuts.

For the next job, I succumbed to desperation. I agreed blindly, which I came to regret tremendously. The first day was suspiciously relaxed. After all, it's the first day. Lots of writing in my notebook (god damn, y'all don't know how many notebooks I've gone through) and taking the lead from my senior. The second day was a little more hectic but still able to cope with my senior help. Third to the Fourth day, she was on MC. That's when things took a dive. The other admin (seniors) started to push coz they saw me doing nothing. Like, duh, my senior taught me for 2 days; how would I know what I was supposed to do. Oh oh...I forget to tell you. They actually keep track of what tasks admins do. I mean for every 15 min interval. Made me key in all the tasks I had done for the day. Honestly, on the first day, I realised this job was not for me, but I still gave the job a chance. Maybe just maybe, this is just a fluke, you know. Like the day I came in happened to be a busy day. Nope, I was wrong. I was hired as a receptionist with a 45min lunch. Wow. I had to take the mail daily during my lunch. You know why, so the person covering me can update me if anything comes (courier, incoming docs) during lunchtime. Cool. I thought Chinatown was bad...fucking hell, the area was worse. Only 1 Malay food (okay, okay, I'm not exactly practising Muslim, but still, if I'm going eat the Indian food there, it's going dig into my savings) and 7-11 for lunch. Plus, I need my daily cig input. Already I was sucking 4 sticks a day. Sigh. Still, I preserved, hoping I could get through the week. On the fourth day, the senior admin lead gave me a 2hr one to one tutor. So I'm expected to understand and master MYOB in 3-4 days. Well, she didn't need to. She said since she was free, she could. Her time, her call. Each day, I found it hard to complete the timesheet as I didn't meet the 8.75 hrs.

So the Fifth day came, and my senior was still on leave. The lead senior (asst to manager *eye roll*) had expectations that I to be an outgoing person, which I never was when we first met. I know I'm supposed to fake until I make it, but I can no longer do that. Maybe because I have nothing that drives me like before (the evil house). Yes, I'm an anxious empath. I guess that's the problem. I have always found it hard to approach people. I always try to read their body language and expressions. Well, back to the bitch. She got frustrated because I didn't ask the accounts for their dustbins. After all, they always do their housekeeping (vacuuming, throwing the rubbish in the baskets) on Fridays. I mean, 1 team were out for a meeting, so I was supposed to tell them about the throwing the rubbish thing. However, when I thought my other colleague (let's call her Shorty) had informed them, I mean, let's divide and conquer for the 1st week, right? Nope. Strike 1. That's not what the bitch wants me to do. "When I told you to tell/ask/check them for their waste basket, I don't need to tell you how to do right?" So I went to tell/ask/check the rest of the office and collect the rest of them. By then, I had already gone down with Shorty to the bin and returned. "You have to tell/ask/check coz they're busy with work. Now you have to go down again!" Strike 2. After everything has settled, my manager asks to see her. She discussed with me how my week was going. Obviously, I got complained, yet she said I 'observed'. She said all the BS that I knew was coming. I lied again about the difficulties I had. Then she mentioned I opened the wrong client mail and 'explained' the importance of checking and making sure. I truly believed that I was right. Till I check again, to my horror. I opened the wrong mail. Strike 3. I had to cover my tracks. I notice one of the mail is missing. I assumed that's how she knew. I told myself to fuck it. I don't care about the job anymore. I was so mad at myself and everyone I left without switching off the lights and the mail on the table. When I reached the train station, my conscience didn't allow me to board. Thankfully I had not tapped in. I turned around and walked back 10mins. Grabbed the mail, walked 10 mins to the mailbox, and boarded the train. It was the only right thing I had to do when I served my notice on Monday.

Both jobs, of course, the hirer was shocked. I didn't give a damn about what they thought. As usual, I lied; otherwise, they would want to rectify what went wrong. At least at the clinic, I had a few folks chat with me, not about the job. I was super miserable at the accounting firm. I know I said I don't need anyone. Besides but no one went to lunch at the same time as me except the bitch and shorty. The first day, the bitch offered to have lunch together my brain wanted to say yes, but my mouth said no. Good thing I didn't.

So now I'm still unemployed.

It's 3 days till Xmas. One week till 2023.

3 months till my 40th.

Sigh.

I still have this MOE interview pending next year. That's my last full-time interview. After this, I'm done.

I'm just looking for temp jobs...I can't handle the pressure of expectations and being around people. Gonna look for WFH job if I can find one. At least it saves me the transport and lunch money.

Sigh.

2023. Please be kind.

21/12/22

[everything-laito]

Hypersexuality and Laito Sakamaki (UPDATED)

Hiya guys! Been a long ass time since I’ve made a post like this, I’ve been getting so much ask box activity + had school so I haven’t had the time to make an original post! This has been something I wanted to write for a while, and not only was I busy with school, but this one hits home hard to me personally, so I was going back and forth for a bit writing it. But I think I’m ready :)

I know there’s kind of a general consensus that anything DL related comes along with a trigger warning whether stated or not, but just a TW considering I’ll be talking about some real life experiences; not in depth or detail of course, but just mentions of it :) Not only is this a Laito analysis but it’s also an educational tool to help other people know about this!

So, without further ado, rant under the cut! 

Hypersexuality is something that many sexual assault/harassment and rape survivors experience after the abuse. People associate asexuality or sexual repulsion as the only (or common) psychological affect after experiencing those situations. However, there is another affect that can happen, and it is more common than people think, and aforementioned, it’s hypersexuality. It’s basically having more sexual feeling and urges after the experience, in order to cope with the nonconsensual one. And it’s exactly what Laito experienced after Cordelia’s abuse.

I’ve also experienced something like this. I don’t believe I’ve experienced it in full swing, but definitely something like it. I haven’t been raped thankfully, but I have been sexually harassed/assaulted before a handful of times. I know I’ve briefly mentioned that in other analyses, but I’m just explicitly stating it here.

I first learned about hypersexuality this year actually, and my Laito nerd brain was like “holy shit that’s the name of what Laito is going through.” Then I was like “oh fuck I’ve gone through that a little bit too.” I thought going along with  would help me “heal” myself, and it really was doing the opposite. (UPDATE: realized that what I thought was a lot of sexual trauma/hypersexuality was mostly compulsory heterosexuality (but still with those dabbled in too—quite a terrible combo) because last month I realized I’m not attracted to men! Although those experiences I mentioned did mess me up a bit, realizing this is a huge step in the right direction for my own mental well being. Just had to make this correction on my part, since the original post had more emotional investment than I would have liked it to :)) 

Like I have said in my little update, I realized I was going through mostly compulsory heterosexuality while also going through some minor sexual trauma/hypersexuality. Although again, I have not had it as bad as Laito has or other sexual assault survivors (which I am grateful for that), I still have a personal grasp of coping mechanisms with traumatic experiences or experiences I did not particularly enjoy. (If you are interested in learning more about compulsory heterosexuality, feel free to send me an ask! I just don’t feel that it’s appropriate to talk about it in regards to Laito or make a post about it, since it doesn’t relate to him)

And that’s probably also why I can resonate with Laito so much, at least on that scale, and even if I experienced a grain of what he’s going through. I know he’s fictional but these are definitely real experiences and real feelings. 

Laito’s case is a bit different than just feeling overtly sexual. Although he’s trying to heal himself through sex and other intimate actions, he’s also doing it as a type of revenge. He doesn’t like purity, and in fact, he’s quite jealous of it. I’ve heard this is also a pretty human way of coping with this type of abuse, and it is why I love Yui as a character. She’s incredibly strong and sets an example for Laito. This makes Laito jealous yet entertained by her, and that’s also a reason why he probably keeps her around. He also attempts to use Yui as a vessel to avenge his own feelings (even not knowing about Cordelia being in her at first). I  personally wasn’t like that, but given the circumstances, there’s definitely people who are. Laito’s character can be so human to me sometimes, its astonishing, despite him being a character, a vampire, and just generally does some wacky or terrible shit. 

You could say his hypersexuality could also be similar to typical Pavlovian Conditioning. You’ve probably heard of the whole experiment of training (conditioning) a dog to expect food when they hear a certain sound and thus, his mouth waters. We’re conditioned by a lot of things in our lives, from triggering a “flight or fight” response from this specific ringtone or high school bell. It’s just a built in “routine” our minds utilize to process pattern recognition. I know I say this a lot, but we don’t know how vampire brains in the DL universe compare to human brains (and quite frank, I don’t think we will), so I will just do my typical human brain picking. 

In Laito’s case, he was conditioned to “love” Cordelia in a fashion that was incredibly gross. No, I won’t sugar coat it. In my Cordelia/Laito analysis, I talk about how Laito was probably groomed. Grooming is another type of conditioning. Although I don’t believe his grooming was sexual, it definitely “prepares” the victim to be exploited in that fashion later on. It’s to build a false sense of trust to be betrayed. Later on, when Cordelia started having sex with Laito, he became used to it in a “conditioned” fashion. When someone said that Cordelia was calling him, he knew what it was. He also thought it’s what he wanted, even though he knew that he didn’t. I believe I have referenced his MB Dark Prologue monologue before, but not this part of it. Here’s the monologue: 

――Who is it that I give my love to? Throwing myself away, I caught the sight of someone Someone I didn’t recognize, Suddenly, I realized I was looking into a mirror. The mirror reflected myself within it. I couldn’t see anything else. I am disgraceful for this greed. I was wearing a visage. What I wanted, certainly was love. It’s not that easy. Because of these words, I suffer. No matter how many times love is said, The only thing that will be important to me, Is only the physical contact and body.

I know I've said it in the Laito/Cordelia analysis, but Laito is visibly confused in his flashbacks. He’s trying to grasp what love is, but then convinces himself that love is physical contact, and not emotional connection, especially near the end. He knows he’s suffering but he is still conditioned to think like this. Same case for people who suffer from hypersexuality. 

Although many people do not know why it occurs, it can be a symptom or “side effect” from disorders, medication, and the like. In the sexual trauma case, I believe a main reason is that the person utilizes sex to cope with trauma, or because they are used to sexual acts being forced upon them. That’s where conditioning still comes in. He’s treated as one of her suitors, lovers, or the like. Even as a stand-in for Richter and Karlheinz. He doesn’t consider Cordelia to be his mom until the DF Vampire ending. On top of him not receiving emotional gratification which leads to all sorts of just awful stuff for him, sexual attention is the only type that he receives until Yui comes along. He is used to not having emotional support or connections, which is why physical contact is what he is more “comfortable” with, while at the end of the day it still does not satisfy him.  

It creates a positive feedback loop of him being unsatisfied, while being confused about where he’s unsatisfied in, leading to him trying to “fix” himself or avoid his own personal, emotional problems through lust and sex, but then still finding himself not “healing.” Then the cycle continues, enthusing his hyper sexual behavior even more.

I was sent some great articles from @souchiika on the DL discord (thank you so much!) and one of the articles stood out to me, since I did not talk about this type of topic on this blog yet. Here’s the link to the article, and here’s the quote that stood out to me!

Furthermore, indirect effects were also statistically significant, providing support to the hypothesis that depression and guilt would be serial mediators of trauma-hypersexual behavior relations. The paths through depression and guilt have been found to be the most significant with moderate and high indirect effects on hypersexuality. Moreover, male gender, as covariate variable, is a relevant risk factor for hypersexual behavior.

Hypersexuality is something that is still being researched like I mentioned earlier, but since these findings came out, it definitely makes sense in Laito’s case (and in general). Like I said, Laito does feel unsatisfied and even shameful of his actions, which is more apparent in the beginning of his and Cordelia’s “relationship.” In those flashbacks, he asks himself if this is what he really wants, and although he attempts to force himself to like these actions as a coping mechanism, there is still a relative degree of shame and guilt he has. It is also apparent nearing his DF Ecstacy ending when he finds out that Karlheinz foresaw Cordelia having sex with him, and even wanted it to happen. All that shame and guilt came bellowing out while he was in a fit of distress. In initial attempts to mediate this guilt and shame, he projected his feelings onto other women through sexual acts, leading to more of this hypersexual loop. I know I talk about Laito projecting a lot, but it is frequent in his character. Like I’ve always said, it’s typical “bully” power dynamic manipulation. If Laito can bring a victim of his down to his level, then he feels better about himself (but it satisfies him for only a short while, until Yui in MB+). 

Also, note that this is no excuse or justification for him to rape or sexually assault others. It is merely an explanation as to why he does it (as for my posts in general, it’s not a justification, it’s an explanation). 

Another reminder that rape and sexual assault isn’t about the sexual urges, but about power. That’s why anybody with any background can do it, given the circumstances. 

This post was a bit hard for me to write, so I apologize if I got too overtly personal for your liking. Like I’ve said in the past, I’m not writing this to gain sympathy too, and sure that sounds superficial of me to say now (although I truly mean it), I just want to use my platform as an educational tool. Sorry about the change in my typical tone :) 

Sorry if this was too much of a doozy, I really wanted to talk about it and to educate people, despite it being a bit personal. I just felt like the most effective way was to convey how real this topic is, despite this fandom knowing about it in a fictional setting. 

I hope you have a great day! -Corn

[femchef]

Life Update

So I’ve been at the new place a month this week.

I love it here - but honestly five years of working with a nice boss did not prepare me for working with a stack of nice bosses.

Hmm.

If that makes sense? That said - I would absolutely not have been able to handle this level of care and concern if I’d jumped into this position five years ago. Like - I needed to work with one genuinely kind supervisor as like. Kindness coping lessons?

It’s built into my resume - over the last eight years I’ve made it a point to include a statement in my cover letter about how important it is to continuously build safe spaces in kitchens, and making a place where other people can grow and develop their skills in a place that isn’t full of anger and mismanaged stress.

At the point when I started drafting that, I made a very conscious decision that I didn’t want to be angry at work. That was after a lot of self evaluation, and it was (always is) a work in progress. Angry chef and bitchy/catty chef are stereotypes for a lot of reasons.

Anyway - the point is, I knew what I wanted to make possible, but I’d never seen it before, in real life. I just had the notion that it was something that should be doable.

And then I got painfully lucky, and got to work for someone for five years who had had the same conscious realization, and wanted to make the same thing? Who manages with compassion and kindness. It was a little frustrating having to watch her bend over backwards to ensure that everyone else stuck to that, and it didn’t always work out. There are plenty of things that weren’t great about it, but.

It was doable. Not only was it doable but it was being put into practice. I can’t. I can’t express how wonderful and eye opening and just goddamn relieving it was, to know that we could make a place like that. And that people didn’t have to go home miserable everyday.

Kitchen work is hard. It’s hard, it can be more than a bit thankless, and a lot of kitchen culture is toxic in a way that feels insurmountable - like. Burn it to the ground and start over insurmountable. But it really, truly doesn’t have to be that way.

And I talked about it over the years with friends and it was kind of but not really a joke between us that moving to Nashville and leaving Savannah was like getting out of an abusive relationship - just. Ya know. We broke up with the Sav Service Industry. Like. Honestly- we can’t lose steam with demanding better mental health support for service instrusty employees because it’s hella overdue.

Now though. I’m here in Florida. And it’s not just one boss who is a decent person. Maybe it’s telling that one of our company managers talks about his 5 years of hell at the last place he worked (I just about died when he said it was in Hilton Head the poor man is NOT WRONG) and how he doesn’t want that for anyone else. Honestly, every manager I’ve talked to here so far has a horror story like that, that made them stop and go “Fuck, I don’t want this for other people or for me anymore how do I fix this”.

Somehow I’ve found myself in a place that’s five steps further along. No one is having to bend over backwards to constantly enforce kindness. No one is shouting. No one is throwing temper tantrums. I have several bosses and co-managers who are all kind and like to touch base and make sure I’m not overworking or overextended. It’s still summer, so the kitchen is on a skeleton crew until the seasonal hires start to arrive in October, but it’s with the expectation of teaching. There is a lot of kindness and patience to go around. Instead of discouraging employees to report injuries and accidents, the staff is begging people to do it “Please, it’s ok, we aren’t mad, look this is why we have chemical flush stations oh god please just let us take you to the hospital” conversations have happened.

It’s safe here. It really is.

Now I just have to keep pushing through all the residual anxiety.

I have a weekly scheduled meeting with my direct supervisor just to touch base, check in, see how things are going. Every single meeting has been delightful and every single time the night before and up to it I’ve been getting “called to the principals office” unnecessary anxiety vibes. Literally my last meeting when I walked in the door started with him saying “Ah! I’m so happy you are here! I’m so glad to have you on staff” like excuse 404ERROR my brain does not know how to handle this yet.

I spent a month worrying about my drafts for new menus and they were due yesterday. I was a little dissatisfied with them, I felt like I hadn’t done enough, and I pointed out in the email that these weren’t comprehensive, but that I felt like they were a good start - look, I had seven banquet and catering menus to write, including planning all the holiday pick up meal menus for the next year. Imagine if someone asked you to write every single variation of your skill but also pare it down to a manageable list that isn’t overwhelmed with too many choices. It’s HARD.

And the email I got back after sending those off last night: “Wow! You’ve really outdone yourself! This is more than I could have ever asked for or expected, I can’t wait to go over it” etc etc.

Current Me is a WiP and is cautiously pleased, but yeah. I can see how 5 Years Past Me would have imploded on the spot and been completely unprepared for this level of decency.

So anyway. We will see how it goes, but overall, I’m happy.

Also I forgot how desperately I need water and sunshine and I’m pretty sure I’m actually just a damn tropical flower because I am absolutely thriving in 90F Florida humidity and full sun.

[estrelladeishtar-archive]

Updates, updates, updates...

So first off I do wanna say I appreciate the 800+ follows ! it means a lot & I do appreciate it a lot & hope y’all like what I have to put out sdjflkds & I hope all o y’all are doin fine & shit. But, all that said... onto the post itself...

It’s been a while since I’ve done an update post on here tbh, & I figured I could probs at least leave some commentary on how things are rn, & also admittedly apologize for not being as active on here compared to other places jdslkfsd- All in all a lot has kept me away & well that’s just what this post is about though I’ve been ofc doing art still.

As per usual I’m most active on twitter ? Though I’m doing my best to start making more of a comeback on here too LOL & I’m sorta active on instagram. I do wanna post more on here & stuff personally, so do expect me to have more things to throw out here & there once I got the time & energy to, since life’s kept me pretty busy overall as is.

Coping with chronic health issues, coping with life circumstances as a whole, so on & so forth basically is the gist of it. Along with self reflecting, spending time w friends I have & also in general other interests.

Tossing under a read more so as to not like, clog dashes & all that lmao

So, for more in depth talk I suppose...

A lot of this year (as well as late last year actually) tbh has been... spent on self reflection & healing from stuff in my past if I’ma be honest. I won’t go into depth on it, since a lot of it is very personal & not stuff I like to really talk about (not to mention its uh, very trigger heavy if we’re to be honest, but I personally don’t like the thought of disclosing my trauma & past in general to people I’m not close enough to), but the tl;dr is me learning I’m more traumatized than I thought since I uh, earlier this year ended up uncovering a lotta shit I’d repressed/never addressed & always ran away from in regards to my own healing 💀

It’s... been a very emotionally intense couple of months (if not over a whole year considering when this all started), with letting myself process everything I’d buried in full. Excavating & additionally, processing years upon years worth of intense stuff that was locked away & didn’t realize... is not easy at all... but it’s necessary for healing I suppose.

So I’ve been learning to heal all of that, as well as, y’know, coping with more shit life’s thrown at me that’s been hard & been tryna figure out how to deal with it... but I mean... at this point that’s just what I’m used to so, nothing out of the ordinary I suppose sjlkfs

& Ofc health issues in & of itself are their own hassle since autoimmune disease is a bitch but what can ya do right?   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I’ve also been diving into multiple interests in general outside of art, like writing or studying astrology stuff or my own witchcraft shit, so on? Just things to give me somethin else to do, so its another factor that’s added to me not being as active art wise. Though I’ve still kept up at least lmao, but yeah, there’s that too.

My birthday also lowkey came to pass back in august sdsjlkf so, I’ve finally hit 25 now? Ngl I still haven’t really. Processed that I’m 25 although a part of it’s also related to the whole healing from stuff but, not gonna go into depth on that here.

But yeah. A lot of that along w severing ties to some & also making new bonds & healing, has been a major focus for me. It’s not been easy a feat, but its stuff that I personally feel is necessary for me & takes priority over art. Plus, amidst this I’ve also kinda lowkey realized I’m just in general a slow artist jsdlkfs but I mean, that’s fine really. I kind of prefer taking my time w artworks & havin them turn out the way I want, so there’s that too.

Also over time come to realize what I really wanna do w my life so like. It’s, been A LOT.

Art wise I’ve been doing fine & well, I do have plans to in time re-open comms & stuff altho by that point prices will have changed & it’ll def be me being a lot pickier which ones I take (it’d be a selection process if I do reopen & v limited slots). Mainly because I just wanna make sure I’m not burning myself out like I used to be just to get by with helping on bills sometimes, & in the meantime well figure that mess out myself. Plus I lowkey wanna be able to be more self indulgent w my work so there’s that too, & also focus on art trade stuff w mutuals & other things I decide to do that are more personal.

Lot of thoughts lot of musings lots of things going through the mind

But overall I guess that’s just the gist? You have your solid updates post & everything now so that’s, pretty much what’s gone on with me on my end. Ik I am keeping details personal/to myself a lot so a good portion of this may be vague but, for good reason. But its why I’ve been away though I’m still keeping up w my art every now & then.

Its 7 am rn & I haven’t slept (though this also is the norm for me 💀 ) so I don’t really have much else to say cause brain fried sdjlfsd But, all in all I do hope all o y’all have been fine & stuff, & not to worry about me bc I’m p much managing so yeah.

[mazzy-moon]

A Lone Butterfly - Chapter 8

Title of Chapter: An Eye For An Eye

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings/Tags: Death, Blood, Violence, Swearing, Grief, Non-gratuitous descriptions of gore, references to kidnapping

Pairing: Javier Peña (Narcos) x Isabel Cotrille (OFC)

Summary:  A year has passed since Isabel was kidnapped and rescued by Javier. Despite establishing her new life thousands of miles away from Columbia, her past follows her.

Notes: This is a rough one, but I promise things will get warm, fuzzy, and sexy in the not too distant future. Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read my story. Love you. x

Find this chapter on ao3

                               ONE YEAR LATER

The sand squishes between my toes as I take my daily run along Cannon Beach. It's cold today. I wonder what the weather is like in Columbia right now. Warm as always, I'm sure. I pass the huge coastal rock jutting out from the water, my signal that I'm nearly back to my condo.

I throw the door open once I get there. Despite the cold I'm drenched in sweat. I reach my desk and read Javier's letter for the millionth time. He asks me about my life here, and how it's treating me. He tells me Columbia misses me, and that he does too. My heart warms. Before I jump in the shower, I decide to quickly write him a response. At the bottom, I include an inside joke from a conversation that seems decades ago now.

'P.S. - Don't go punching any strangers while I'm gone. Love, Isabel.'

I miss Javier. Miss him so much it hurts. Our brief time together forged a bond between us I can't comprehend. I've spent many nights thinking of the kiss we shared. How his hands roamed over my body. It still gives me chills.

Even though he's not here, the memories continue to help me heal from the pain of my past.

It's been nearly a year since I boarded the plane from Columbia. Javier had been right. Moving back here was the best thing for me. I've felt more myself than I have in a long time.

My best friend, Melody, has been great. She's put her social life on hold to be there for me in any way she can. We've spent countless nights making hit or miss dinners and watching tooth rotting rom coms. She also referred me to a counselor the first week I got here, which has helped me in immeasurable ways. It's made me face my trauma, but also helped me cope with it.

Slowly, but surely, the empty piece of myself is filling back up. I still get nightmares, though, and I hate walking the streets by myself, especially at night. I'm wary of strange men, and I never go anywhere without pepper spray. I still miss my mother terribly. And my father. Remembering Columbia brings joy and pain.

There are good days and bad days, but I now have a hope for my future that wasn't there a year ago.

I wrap up a mug to send to Javier along with my letter. I've taken up pottery in the past months and it has been one of the many things to help me cope. I wonder what he'll think of the blue and gold painted creation.

The phone rings. It's Melody.

"Are you down for grabbing some Mexican tonight? There's a new place that just opened up downtown I've been wanting to try. Maybe we could catch a late movie afterwards?"

It was a Friday and I had no plans for the evening.

"Sounds fun, let's do it."

"Awesome! There is one thing though. I just put my car in the shop, is there anyway you could swing my place before?"

"Yeah, that should work. I'll pick you up around six."

"You're the best. See you then. Love ya."

"You too."

We say goodbye.

Later, I get ready for the night. Pulling a powder blue blouse over my head, I glance down at my bedside clock. I have a few minutes before I go to pick up Melody. I grab my keys, purse, and phone before heading out. I run back in, having forgotten Melody's gift. She went out of town for her birthday last week so I never had a chance to give her the gift I made. The intricate cake stand took hours, but I know she'll enjoy using it at her bakery. There's no bag, but it's too late to worry about now. I place it in the passenger seat and head out.

It's nearly dark when I get there. I hate driving to her place. It's cradled in between dense woods on either side and completely devoid of neighbors. I groan as my car reaches the dirt road leading up to her cabin. The looming trees extinguish most of the sun's fading light. As I reach the end of the drive way, I pull out my phone to tell her I'm here. I wait a few minutes but no answer. I'll just go up to the door.

I grab her present from the front seat and step out of my car. The damp earth cakes the bottom of my shoe as I tread up to the entrance of Melody's house. I knock, but she doesn't come. The lights are on, and I can hear music coming from inside. She must not hear me.

I twist the knob. It's unlocked. The minute I step inside I know something is off. Nothing seems to be out of place, but the atmosphere settles around me in a disquieting way.

"Melody, I'm here!" I yell towards the towards the top of the stairs.

Still nothing.

Something is wrong. I'm scared to go upstairs, but I do it anyway. I force myself to put one foot in front of the other. The panicky feeling I haven't had in a while creeps back in.

I hear the cake stand fall from my arms and shatter to a million pieces when I reach the top.

The lower half of Melody's body lies in front of me. The rest is hidden by the half closed bedroom door. I rush towards her, praying she's alive.

She's bleeding. It's everywhere.

"Melody! Melody!" My heart threatens to burst out of my chest. "Can you hear me, Melody? Answer me!"

She lies still. Somewhere deep down I know my friend is gone. As soon as my gaze shifts to her face I involuntarily fling myself from her.

A shard of glass sticks out from one eye. Everything is such a mess I didn't notice it at first. I sob loudly, barely recognizing my own voice. Slowly, I shift onto my knees towards her. I reach out for her hand, noticing the scrap of paper clutched in its grasp. I unfold the scrap between sobs.

Ojo por ojo.

An eye for an eye. The phrase has been written in blood.

I run down the stairs and back to my car as fast as my body will allow me. I yank my phone from my purse and dial the police.

It doesn't all set in until after the police have rolled her body away, pronouncing her dead at the scene. They ask me all the normal questions and I robotically answer. I'm a million miles away. They ask me about the note then. I tell them I knew it's meaning the moment I read it. I explain to them everything that happened in Columbia. Their next step is to contact Officer Santiago to fill him in on the situation and decide on how to proceed.

I don't go home that night. They assign me to the Witness Protection Program and place me under guard in a remote location an hour away.

As I'm sitting at the tiny home's kitchen table, my phone buzzes. I recognize the number and pick up on the first ring.

"Javi," my voice is shaky and barely there.

"Isabel, I just heard what happened. Are you safe?"

"I'm f- fine. I'm in the middle of nowhere, but there's guards with me."

He pauses and I hear a heavy sigh on the other end.

"Fuck, Isabel. I'm- I'm sorry this is happening."

"It's not your fault."

"It is. We should've caught these guys by now. The fact that they left the country and weren't even on our radar- this is a fucking mess."

I try to hide my cries but he must sense it anyway. Something about hearing his voice after everything that's happened makes me finally let go.

"Shh. Don't cry. Listen, I'm gonna come up there. I can get on a plane within a couple days."

"No, Javier, you can't do that."

         "They traveled countries to get to you, Isabel. I have to-"

"No, you can't do anything from here. The police are taking care of me, Javi. I'll be okay. I can't keep you from doing what you can to catch them."

We go back and forth but he finally decides to stay in Columbia as long as I update him each day. We say our goodbyes, and I almost beg him to come to me. I crave his arms. But I can't bring myself to be that selfish.

Being cooped up in the hide out cabin reminds me of my boredom back at the hospital in Columbia. I'm not allowed to leave and there's little to do here. I have endless amounts of books though. I skip the murder mysteries, preferring to drown myself in the pile of vintage romance novels tucked away in a rusty cabinet. Melody would have loved these books. She was a sucker for this stuff.

I've had to stop myself from picking up the phone to call her more times than I can count. It may not be medically possible, but I swear my heart physically aches at the thought of my best friend. I'd known her my entire life. I couldn't imagine life without her. I couldn't have imagined life without my mother and father either, but here I am. Life was cruel thing, hungry for peace and stealing it when you least expect.

After several days spent in solitude at the hide out, one of my guards informs me we are taking a trip back to the station. I ask what for, but am given no answer.

Once there, I'm informed I am to go back to Columbia. Javier's task force has caught Matías. I am the only one that can positively identify him.

I grip the seat beneath me.

It seems Columbia is not done with me yet.

[rahrahrahweregoingtosmashtheoiks]

Hi!!!

I have a lot to update, just moving is wildly draining so i havent had the headspace to write anything yet.

SO i got the keys a week ago today, and excitedly rocked up with my laptop bag so I could carry on working there for the afternoon. I’m eventually going to make a little video of my progress when I can be bothered to figure out how to use imovie. but i LOVE IT. honestly. i wish id done it sooner in the pandemic, but tbf maybe being alone at that point would have been a bit miserable.

anyway, there was no sofa. and there clearly should have been a sofa. so HMM i called them up and we eventually finally managed to get the sofa delivered on tuesday. but back in time again to friday. after my work day finished, i popped back to grab some essentials, including bedding, and decided to just spend the night there immediately. our current contract doesnt end until the 2nd of dec, but honestly its a hell hole and iM OUT. it was hard to sleep, even with earplugs, because a weird ocd (i have diagnosed ocd i am allowed to say this) thing i have is that i am wildly sensitive to smells, so sleeping in new places is impossible because i can smell them and i cant cope. ANYWAY MORNING CAME, and i got up early to run back to the old place and pack up more stuff. my flatmates mum was coming to help her move her stuff around lunchtime, so i helped her pack up the final lil bits and load the car. THEN an angel twitter friend came by to help me rescue my bookcase from the greenhouse. i didnt really need it in the current flat so i just stored it there to avoid throwing it away, and spiders have taken over, so i didnt dare even open the door. we pulled him out and brushed off the cobwebs and he SEEMED spider free (reader - he was not), so all good. i did ask my guy best friend to help first but he told me spiders were ‘evil monsters’ and refused. rude.

ANYWAY, after doing a few little trips (and hurting my body so much i could barely lift an arm) myself, my moving van came on sunday. i booked a small van, and it was immediately obvious that i had more than a small vans worth of stuff. we can just do two trips :) i smiled at my nice moving man, josef. no we cannot, josef replied. fortunately josef had brought large van anyway so this was a moot point and he didnt even charge me extra in the end. what a great guy. i left him an excellent review. my favourite bit about unpacking josef’s giant van, was that when my bookcase was laid on its side, i was able to see that there WAS in fact a spider attached to my bookcase - he was simply nesting with his eggs under the base! after screaming hysterically, josef loudly asserted THERE WILL BE NO SPIDERS IN MY VAN and grabbed him in his bare hand and hurled him out the door. i bravely removed the eggs myself later. im sorry for separating you from your babies, little one. i feel bad now. but you are hideous and terrifying. this act of valour also featured in josef’s 5 star review.

ANYWAY over the next few days i ordered a little tv table, and both him and my sofa arrived on tuesday. not sure why i expected hermes to deliver me a fully assembled table, but they clearly did not, and i was forced to assemble it myself with a potato peeler in place of a screwdriver. it took like 2 hours, but we got there. the sofa men attached the sofa’s legs in what i would describe as ‘the most manic act of efficiency i have ever seen in my life’. they tag teamed the job in honestly 30 seconds and then sprinted out of the door. bye.

a few days later, after id dug out enough coat hangers, i pulled my jackets out of my laundry basket where id been storing them in transit, and unearthed yet another spider. this one was the daddy long legs variety which i am sliightly less scared of, so i managed to capture him and gently release him outside, whispering ‘goodbye angel’ as my upstairs neighbours stared at me out of their window, as they do every time i open the door. they had a SCREAMING row last night and i actually considered calling the police. i definitely will if i hear them again. i couldnt make out words but it was loud enough to wake me up at 2am, and he was RAGING. it was quite scary. and she was screaming and crying. and there were multiple loud bangs that i *think* were them slamming doors, but they could have been throwing things which i why i considered the police in case she was hurt. so maybe il keep an eye out for her over the weekend..

anyway. a few other things happened, i hosted a failed work movie night, me and Sofie netflix partied Holidate, which is godawful, and now i am on my first standard class train in 5 years because i spent all my money on rent. it’s my grandads funeral today im giving the eulogy. i currently think il be fine, but my emotions are a law unto themselves so i guess we’ll find out at 12!!! this train has no freebies or wifi, so im using my phones hotspot. i also have my normal sized suitcase inside of a giant one i borrowed from my parents when i first moved to london like 5 years ago because its the size of me and i have nowhere to store it. so i am generously returning it to them. anyway. i have like an hour and a half of this journey left so im going to read my kindle and decide what to have on toast when i get in.

[gaiatheorist]

A little knowledge...

I keep starting this, and then deleting it, that’s either an indication that I’m trying to process as fully as i can, or that I’m being avoidant, and slipping into another depressive episode, I’ll keep an eye on it.

I have an untidy heap of paperwork at the side of my desk, it’s not ‘on’ the desk yet, because I’m not quite ready to fill it in. There’s no deadline on it, so it’s ‘floating’, rather than ‘fixed’, and the formatting of it is doing my head in. It’s the end-of-course review and coping plan for the Trauma Stabilisation Group I finished last week. I told my son a few days ago that the ‘mentals’ write their own coping plans, and he was incredulous, I’m relatively good at planning, and taking all factors into consideration, but the new medication, and the appeal against the denial of my disability benefit, and, well, 2020 are taking a toll on me, I’m slipping.

‘Introduction to Trauma Stabilisation Class’, three 90-minute sessions, delivered via Microsoft ‘Teams’, on account of the Covid-19 pandemic, we’re too unwell to be left to our own devices, so the online group was the least-bad option. It’s free, I know a fair few people who have had to pay for their own therapy, because they can’t access NHS treatment, and I know I’m part of a very small, but fortunate number, to still be on NHS lists. Groups of people with mental health issues are always a bit of a gamble, there’s the waiting-room-contagion factor, where some people will exchange symptoms and ‘unhelpful coping mechanisms’, and the weird mix of characters that are inevitable. This was either my third or fourth ‘Introduction to...’ group, and the online format was differently stressful to the in-the-flesh ones. I know ‘most’ of my group-dynamic bad habits, and there’s always a little bit of my cognitive functioning occupied with telling myself *don’t* do this, or that. In a nutshell, I’m a watchful show-off, the ‘feeling small and vulnerable’ part of my C-PTSD would, historically, lead me to muck about, or attempt to dominate groups, throw in my autistic ‘organising’, my professional desire to help, and the fatigue and over-stimulus from the brain injuries, and I *could* be a nightmare in groups. 

I was honest with the triage staff right from the beginning, it’ll be in my notes that I acknowledge my tendencies to ‘take charge’, as a means of coping with so much in my life that’s been beyond my control, it’s not all deliberate, and it’s sometimes really useful. I’m a sheep-dog, which is productive when I’m rounding up stragglers, and pointing them in the right direction, less-so when I’m distracted by a squirrel outside the window. 

Being what I am, and knowing what I know from my previous career is a double-edged sword. I know the fancy words for the theories and processes, so can be mildly irritated when the language has to be dumbed-down to the lowest common denominator. It does have to be, though, on the previous course, we had a couple of participants who couldn’t read the text on the worksheets (formatting issue, too much text crammed onto each page, to save on photocopying costs, they strained my eyes a bit) I can’t do my (TM) Autistic thing of assuming that, if I ‘know’ a thing, everyone else in the room does too. I can do my helpful thing of re-explaining something the facilitator has said if the group don’t seem to ‘get’ it, or clarifying something a participant has said if the facilitators misconstrue it. (One of the staff on the previous course was an absolute horror for that, she wasn’t listening actively, just barrelling on with what she thought had been said, people stop volunteering information when that happens.) I’m not there to ‘help’, or to ‘lead’, though. One of the participants in this last group threw a bit of a tantrum, she’d dominated most of the speaking in the previous session, and flipped when I was given air-time to explain something. That was hard to deal with, because I automatically switched to Mentor-mode, and very nearly lost track of the content trying to think of a way to alert one of the facilitators to check in on her, and try to bring her down from her agitated state before she hurt herself. 

I’m dabbling with the slightly paranoid theory that some participants, or even facilitators might think I’m a Mystery Shopper sort of thing. My ‘old’ practices and processes made a lot of people ask “How do you DO that?”, the ‘Matilda’-thing, I just do, I’m exceptional at a lot of very difficult things sometimes, but I can’t use oven-gloves, and, especially recently, I’ve been forgetting a lot of words. Other participants might think I’m a smart-arse, I am, it doesn’t matter, I imagine I frustrate the facilitators because I can give theoretically correct answers, but can’t consistently apply the theories in my own life. I’m not there to make friends, we all have to sign contracts of expectations saying we won’t form relationships, I understand that, an elective empathy with other high-end mental health cases is never going to be a good thing. My curious combination of conditions makes me a bit of a distance-er anyway, I stick as firmly as I can to the procedural pathways, it’s a process-with-purpose, not a popularity contest.

I’m struggling with the ‘be kind to yourself’ angle again. It’s not in my nature, I don’t know how. That bumps heads with the ‘normalising nice things’, even at this level of mental health intervention, we’re encouraged to ‘savour the taste of your favourite food’- food is just fuel, I don’t have a favourite, and, when people start banging on about chocolate, or cake, or whatever, I don’t get it. Visit a favourite place, phone/meet up with a friend, listen to uplifting music, go for a walk, buy yourself flowers, have a haircut, all of the ‘normal’ nice-things leave me cold, I don’t really have hobbies or interests, very few things spark my oxytocin or dopamine responses, I’m not a joyful type, that’s my baseline-normal, not a press-the-panic-button indicator that I’m depressed. 

“You’re just not trying!” Luckily, nobody ‘medical’ has trotted that one out, but it’s been the backing track to my life pretty much forever. I am trying, I’m trying very hard, especially since the brain injuries. There’s been a slow realisation that I have to pick my battles wisely, though. I’ve long maintained that anyone who’s ‘always’ happy must have a flap in their back where the batteries go, I’m not advocating living in a constant state of ‘Eeyore’ gloom, but constant joy must be bloody exhausting. I’m not always moody or maudlin, I’m just sort of ‘flat’, not particularly animated or enthusiastic about much, but I can engage for short periods when I need to. “Smile, love, it might never happen!” can get right in the bin, and, as the internet pointed out the other day, telling someone to ‘just think positive’ as a cure-all is ridiculous. Well-meaning, but oblivious people will chip in with their intrusive-insensitive opinions of how a bit of yoga, or more vegetables are all we need to be all-better, and it’s a challenge to not point out that some of us are a bit beyond ‘just snapping out of it’. 

That’s not defeatist. I’m autistic, my brain runs on a non-standard Operating System, the updates don’t always load, and I have to make a hell of a lot of work-around adaptations. Sometimes life’s like walking everywhere with my shoes on the wrong feet, and sometimes it’s like my appliances have come with the wrong plug, and I have to stick a spoon-handle in the Earth socket to make them work. On top of the autism, I had a succession of adverse experiences through the course of my life, which have left me with C-PTSD. I have a telephone-directory of medical conditions, and the icing on the cake was the brain haemorrhage  five years ago, I have brain injuries, bits of metal plugging up aneurysms, and one area of ‘risky’ defects on my brain-stem. Those are facts, I have a file of medical paperwork about two inches thick, but the UK disability benefit departments have decided to latch onto the fact that I’m not on any medication for mental health issues. (I’ve tried lots, none of them worked long-term, and now we know we’re dealing with a neurodevelopmental disorder, and physical brain damage, I don’t think a bit of Prozac is going to help.)

Knowing that my brain is physically and chemically different to ‘most’ people’s is not a get-out-of-jail-free-card. These are reasons, not excuses, and I’m doing what I can to work within and around my limitations. I’m not unique, or a special unicorn, I’m disabled, and damaged, and trying to work with the fragmented NHS. One of the issues with the trauma course was the assumptions. I absolutely don’t blame the facilitators, they’re working with pre-prepared material, and a ‘difficult’ cohort. I did gently correct the course-leader, when she started listing ‘normal’ coping mechanisms, the walk-in-the-park, cup-of-tea-with-friends type ones. Some of those ‘simple’ activities are incredibly difficult for some of us, that’s why we’re at this level of intervention, if we could have ‘just’ joined a knitting circle, or taken up photography, we’d already have done it. I explained the need for pacing, the other two participants had limited impulse control, so giving the ‘shopping list’ of strategies was a bit risky, I know I have a tendency to over-reach, so need to be careful with myself. None of us had mentioned nightmares or flashbacks, but they’re on the standard list of indicators for PTSD. There was an assumption that we all had them, in the same way as one of the other triage practitioners, ages ago, told me “It’s not PTSD, because you don’t have nightmares.” I have auditory and olfactory flashbacks and hallucinations. 

The doctors that didn’t make further investigations for the mutated migraines before the aneurysm ruptured. The gyneacologist that told my HUSBAND “There’s nothing physically wrong with her.”, the Occupational Health doctor who told me “It’s not vertigo, because that’s spinning.” and “It wasn’t a stroke, because you don’t have one-sided weakness.” I know they have to have lists of diagnostic criteria to start from, but Little-Miss-Autistic here spent far too long just-trying-to-cope because I didn’t fit neatly into their matrices. (Don’t get me started on DWP/PIP ignoring reams of evidence, and just picking out that I turned up to the assessment with my trousers on the right way around...) 

I know too much about some things, and not enough about others. My ‘flat’ presentation gives the impression that I’m calm when I’m not, and coping more than I am. The review for the trauma class isn’t until September, and I genuinely don’t know what the next step will be. I’m already on the waiting list for the ‘Compassion’ course, and the very long waiting list for the Specialist Neurodevelopmental Service in the city, to see if there’s anything ‘else’ I haven’t already tried to work within and around the autism. I’ve slipped through a million holes in a million nets, because I know enough to give the answers I ‘should’, the biggest irony is that when I answer “I don’t know.”, the assumption is that I’m being defensive or difficult. A little knowledge is indeed a dangerous thing.   

[scotch-and-roses]

I wish I could just throw myself into my work to deal with my grief. Unfortunately ADHD and trouble focusing has not been helped by dealing with grief. I’ll start to hyperfocus, then have an intrusive thought about “why hasn’t the Princess come over to yell at me for not having gone to bed yet?” or I’ll look over at the bed expecting to see her curled up asleep to give myself a boost of warmth/comfort, and instead be confronted by an empty bed. Logically I knew that this would happen eventually. She had kidney disease and it wasn’t ever going to get better. I just really hoped that it wouldn’t happen while I was in grad school. I knew that coping with the loss of her while undergoing the stress of grad school would be amazingly difficult, and the idea terrified me. Just thinking of the day that I would lose her was enough to send me into tears. And the reality is that some days feel impossible to get through. And I haven’t figured out a way to keep myself together and productive when I hit those walls. Instead I just kinda fall apart. And I’m still so behind on my work from the migraines at the beginning of the quarter. I am literally down to the wire now. And I just keep alternating between feeling numb and feeling shattered. I have been pulling out of it more, feeling more functional again. There’s just so much all at once. I need to completely rebuild myself in some ways, and I just haven’t had the time or space to do that. And everything is suffering as a result. She was my emotional support/touchstone and this being that loved me and that I loved and cared for and having that routine gave me more purpose and I built my routines around her needs. Not having that framework has left me feeling extremely untethered. And I’m sorry y’all for having to deal with the constant stream of me talking about this, I appreciate the support and love you’ve all shown. This is just part of me processing really. Writing things out helps get it out of my head/helps me to work through the emotions. I just keep hoping that it won’t be real. It doesn’t feel like it should be real. I miss her so damn much. And there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it. The last time I was apart from her for so long was when I was at Reed and lived in the dorms and she stayed with papa. But papa and I talked nearly every day so I’d get daily kitty updates and pictures sometimes. And she was always waiting for me when I got home from school. But this isn’t like that. She isn’t just somewhere else, waiting for me to come home. She’s gone. And now matter how badly I want that to not be the case, that’s how it is. She’s just gone. And I hate it. I wish so badly that I could hold her again and feel her warmth and softness and hear her purr. And it’s never going to happen. Sure, there will be other cats in my life again at some point. But they’ll never be her. I think my earliest memory is from about the age of 3. I’m 28 now, which means I have approximately 25 years of memories. I had Princess for 13 years. That means that over half of my life that I remember she was a part of. She was part of my family and one of the beings that I cared the most about in this world. Most of my friends have not been in my life for as long as she was at this point. She was this huge, important part of my life. And now that’s gone. I have the memories, and I cherish them. But it’s not the same. When I come home from a bad day I don’t have her to come sit on me and purr or take a nap with her curled up against my chest. And it’s just all these compounding things. Going through stress with school, or relationship drama, or worrying about financial stuff, and then not having my fuzzy creature that gave me comfort just takes that stress or whatever and then piles grief on top of it. Until I feel like I can’t breathe, like I’m drowning. Part of me wants to just give in. Give in to the depression, to just curl up and give up on trying to be productive and functional. To just blow off my work, my classes, everything. Because it is so hard. And I feel like my professors are being patient, but are also annoyed with me. And I don’t know how to explain to them how much I’m struggling. That I’m trying, but it’s all just so much and I am barely staying functional. Just doing the daily things that I need to do like eating and showering, keeping the apartment relatively orderly so that I’m not being a horrible roommate, they take so much energy right now. Going to class, grading, doing assignments on top of that is incredibly difficult. And I keep emailing them apologizing for the migraines, for missing class again and again because of them, and because some days the grief is too overwhelming. And I’m just terrified that they’re going to respond with “no, you’ve missed too much, you haven’t done enough, that’s not a valid reason, do better” and that I’m going to fail. I don’t want to. As tempting as it is to give up sometimes, I don’t want to. For one thing, Princess would be pissed. She hated when I was depressed. And this goddamn paper is now three hours overdue and I am torn between trying to pull myself out of this spiral and finishing it tonight like I planned or emailing the professor and once again begging for understanding and more time. It was a month two days ago since I lost her. And the pain is still tearing me apart. But I feel like emailing the professor and asking for more time again, that she’ll dismiss me. That because it’s been a month I shouldn’t be having these breakdowns anymore. That I should be better. And I think I’m slowly getting better. But I’m not better. I’m still a mess of tears and snot and emotions and I’m still trying to figure out how to piece my life back together. And I’m so tired. God I’m so tired. This is exhausting. I’ve always been a very emotional person, I joke that on a dial of 1-10, my emotions are turned up to 11. I feel a lot of things and I feel them very strongly. I love fiercely and strongly, and likewise I feel grief in the same way. And it is so draining. And Princess was my battery pack, she helped me recharge. And learning how to function without that, figuring out how to compensate for that loss, is overwhelming. And I can’t help wishing I could go back. Take her to the vet sooner. Spend more time with her. Something. Anything. And I can’t. And it sucks. So much. I just keep blaming myself. If I’d done more or something different. If I hadn’t spent so much time hanging out with friends away from home. If I’d been more diligent in her diet. If I’d seen about getting her some kind of medication. Anything to give myself more time with her. And I could have, at the end. She could have been hospitalized, had her kidneys completely flushed, been placed on fluids and things for multiple days. But her levels were so high that it would have been temporary. A way to get her feeling a little better for who knows how long just so that I could have more time. And that felt wrong. It felt wrong to put her through that just so that I didn’t have to say goodbye so soon. And I hate that I wish I had. Because I miss her so goddamn much and would give anything right now to have more time. Even though it would have meant her possibly suffering and me going into thousands of dollars of debt. And I know I made the right choice. But god it was so hard. And I wish I never had to make it. And for the last 13 years she’s been here to help me through hard times like this. When I’m crying in the middle of the night and don’t have anyone to talk to, don’t want to bother anyone, I had her. And it feels like I’m just stuck in this horrible loop where I miss her and it hurts, and I want to cuddle her because that’s how I’ve dealt with similar pain in the past, but she’s gone so I can’t, and it hurts more, and it just keeps going until I’m curled up on the bed, sobbing, with my arms wrapped around me because it feels like if I don’t physically hold myself together I’ll shatter into a million pieces. And I sob until I’m gasping for breath and I can’t see a way through the pain. I don’t know how to make it stop. Papa keeps telling me to “compartmentalize” and “just cherish the memories”. And I want to scream because that’s not how I work. If I could just flip a switch like that or tuck things into neat boxes, don’t you think I would? I don’t want to feel like I’m drowning. But I can’t just turn off my emotions or decide to feel something different. And he criticizes me for being so open, so giving of myself, for investing so much. And maybe it is a flaw, maybe I do need to work on closing myself off more. Perhaps I need to find ways to temper myself. But I feel like that’s work to be done when I’m not in the middle of emotional upheaval. I can only do so much at one time. And right now I’m at capacity, I’m over capacity really. So tired. Both physically and mentally/emotionally right now. I don’t want to email my professor, but I think I have to. Dammit. 

[ahappyevent]

daddy update :)

My dear girls,

The months and years seem to be passing so fast during this period of our lives. So many things are happening with Mommy and Daddy, with ourselves as individuals but also as a couple.

The past year has been by far one of the toughest and most demanding years of our relationship, but we kept at it and pushed through. We’ve been doing this for the past 14 years together, and even though things have not become easier in any way, we’ve both always managed to see the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel and always come back to each other.

You should both know that human relationships are never easy. They are complicated, full of change and filled with expectations, stated or implied. Neither adults nor children manage to always do a great job at it, but I believe the most important thing is to keep trying. Doing the right thing is always more difficult than doing what feels easy, even if due to the fact that nobody can tell you what the “right” thing is.

So, even if the last months have been incredibly challenging, we are still here, still together, and we still love you both enormously.

We are happy, sad, tense, relaxed, learning, growing, crying, laughing. I’m not sure how other families are dealing with their own challenges and issues, but I can tell you that our own ways of coping and pushing through never feel straightforward or simple. We do try our best though, and more than anything both myself and your Mommy are working hard at understanding and developing ourselves as individuals; we believe this is the way to also become better partners, better parents and better human beings.

But it is not always easy, and we are far from ideal. Sometimes we falter, and sometimes we have less patience with you girls than we would like. Sometimes we treat you in a rash way, without really paying attention and without being mindful. And sometimes we doubt. Actually, most of the times we doubt. We doubt whether we’re doing the right things, whether this path that we have chosen as a family is right, whether the choices we’ve each made as individuals are right. We look at the past and romanticise it, and we are nostalgic about things that were and things that could have been. We each spent a lot of times on those thoughts actually in the last months.

What could have been…

From my point of view, what could have been is something that our human mind creates in order to keep us in an unsatisfied state of mind. That is, in my conception, an innate and built-in aspect of our humanity, evolved through thousands of generations with one main goal: to ensure that we survive as a species. Nobody directed this evolution, the same as nobody really directs anything. Leaving aside the entire discussion about God and creation, I believe that we’re all children of chaos; from chaos we are born and into chaos we will end. Therefore, we each must deal with the “demons” of our own minds, which tend to be surprisingly similar amongst all human beings.

And it's important to mention my belief that nature did not optimise for the individual's happiness but for our survival as a species. This is quite a tough thought to internalise, but I believe the sooner one does it, the sooner one can move past it.

What would our lives have been? What if we wouldn’t have kept together as a relationship? What if we wouldn’t have made the sacrifices that we made, in giving up our own “selves” for the amorphous and shapeless “we”? What if we would have each followed our “own” paths in life, fully embracing our individualism and traits, without trying to always “make it work “, to keep our relationship together going?

What if we didn’t have you both?

These questions are in my view normal, but I believe the answers we each give to them shape the very essence of our beings, directing not only our future but also permanently re-writing the past memories we have. The human mind is a very complex mechanism, whose inner workings are not yet apparent or understandable to us. And I also believe that each of us, as individuals, should spend a lot of effort in trying to figure out what is our best way of coming to our own versions of potential answers. All the while, keeping in mind that the flow of time never stops, that we change every day, and that the answers we each give ourselves today might be different from the answers we give tomorrow, or the day after that.

I do not have a solution for you girls to these challenges, and I don’t believe anyone has. As you grow, we grow, and I grow. With each passing year, with each new issue we fix or challenge we overcome, I try to become better at thinking about these questions, more honest in my answers and more open to understanding what the “reality” is like. Things are never the way they seem to each of us; we each live mostly inside our own minds, pretending that what we understand and perceive is “the” objective reality, the absolute truth and the way "things are". But there is no such thing as an objective reality, and it requires discipline and a lot of self-control to always remind yourself that things are not what they seem, that the others’ point of view might be more valid or more true than yours, and that you might be living in an illusion that you’ve created, fully removed from reality.

But I try, and we try. This is the best I think any of us can do, and I hope that we’ll manage to always keep trying, together.

Overall, in our relationship with you as our children we feel that we are doing a good job in being there for you when you need us. We also try to facilitate as many learning and fun experiences as we can for you girls, within the constraints of our time and available money. We try really hard to think ahead, and ensure to the best of our abilities that you girls are getting a great start in life.

From the way and the things we feed you with, to the books and toys we buy for you, to the outdoors experiences we try to share with you. Education is also very important for us, and we’ve done significant efforts to keep you Sofia in Cantaleum, for now and hopefully for the future as well. Even though that means a very significant financial, logistical and mental commitment from our side.

We try to also be mindful about modelling productive behaviours for you both, especially in what relates to the way we treat each other, to kindness, understanding and non-violence, but also to other important aspects such as perseverance, self-control, practice and perseverance. We do our best to first make sure that you see these behaviours embodied in the daily practice we do ourselves as your parents, and only then do we also talk to you about them as theoretical constructs. And we do our best to treat you like individuals, with the respect and thoughtfulness that we would give to any of our peers. We try hard not to lecture you. We hope that you feel a bit of our efforts in all the above, and that it will have a positive impact on your future development as human beings.

Now let me share a bit about how I perceive each of you at this point in your lives.

Ana, you are 3 and a half years old, and your personality feels a lot of the time like that of a charging bull!

You are incredibly strong-headed, strong-willed and strong-minded. You fight with ferocity for what you want, no matter what we or your sister try to tell you. Right now, as you’ve grown a bit more, we are able to reason with you a bit more, but when you were a bit younger it was virtually impossible to convince you to do things you didn't want to do.

So you my dear have therefore been one of the biggest tests of our patience and parenting values that we’ve had so far. Through your way of being you’ve challenged us continuously, making us become better as self-control, especially your Mommy. Sometimes she doesn't make it in the way she would want to, but that rarely happens and then she apologizes and talks to you about it.

And you are SO attached to her still. Whenever she is away, even if she is out running for half an hour, you tell me and Sofia that “I miss Mommy!”. You love being with your momma, on her, around her, and more than anything in her “imbratse”. She still has to be always close by for you to feel fully comfortable.

With me you have a funny relationship, more like that of an older brother. You generally listen to me if what i ask you is something you are ok doing, but you immediately oppose me if what I demand is not to your liking. So that's why I learned not to demand so much anymore, but to gently convince you; a valuable skill i've developed massively in the last years and for which i'll be always grateful to you.

With Sofia you have an amazing relationship, and you seem to love her a lot! You love playing with her, and you try to find ways in which you can share the same playing scenario. You like to be guided by her generally, but you also expect her to do what you want, when you want it. You also fight with her sometimes, especially when she doesn’t want to give you the things that you demand.

And, relating to your "charging bull" way of being, you sometimes hit her. You’re a little violent devil sometimes, throwing things on the floor whenever you don’t get your way. You’re also hitting Mommy and I when you get upset with us, and then we also hear your very funny way of voicing your frustrations: “Silly Mommy! Silly Daddy! Silly Sofia!”.

But in the past couple of months you’ve grown a lot, taken another major leap, and you are becoming more easy to talk to and reason than before. And also less and less hitting, which is something we're all very happy about.

You love being outside, especially being at playgrounds, and you like swings more than other things. You also like to make and build things with your hands, and your mind seems to be very explorative and inquisitive. You are very self-centered, and you can spend even one hour playing alone with your own things.

And you fall, quite a lot actually. You’re always bumping against things, and you don’t seem to have a natural inclination to paying attention to where you are going :)

You love it at Guxi, your kindergarden, and whenever I come to pick you up you seem to be happy and content there.

You also keep complaining that your tummy hurts, especially in the car. It might be because of the car seat becoming too small and tight for you and your large tummy, or because you need to make caca, or because you are using this expression of "my tummy hurts" to state that you are bored and want to get off from the car. No matter the reason, this has been a bit concerning for us, as it has been a common thing for you for the past couple of years. We’ll mention it to the paediatrician the next time we go there.

You are also massively lovable, with characteristic pouty faces and chubby tummy, and we love to hold you “imbratse” and ciupilate you! :)

Sofia, you will soon be 7 years old, and I can’t believe that you’ve grown into such a big little girl!!

You started 1st grade a couple of weeks back, and you’re doing great. You are a little geek, and you love to learn new things. You’re super inquisitive, asking “why” to almost everything, and you really go deep into trying to understand things. You are fascinated about the world, about geography and about the animal kingdom. You can already read quite well, and also write in uppercase. You love spending time with books, and you also like to sketch things with me.

With your sister you are generally kind and supportive. You love her deeply, and when we are out you always and unfailingly take care of her. You always make sure that she’s ok, jump to her help whenever she needs you, and with the other kids you always make sure that she’s included in the games and that she’s happy.

Sometimes you have challenges in sharing with her, mostly at home. You do your best though, even though sometimes it’s really really hard, also because of the way Ana naturally is. But I love the fact that you always try your best, and that no matter how upset you get, you always are willing to talk about it and discuss it with me and Mommy.

You are already able to understand "grown up" concepts such as consequences, attitude, future outcomes, delayed gratification, gentle manipulation, “selling” to the other either ideas or proposals. I love teaching them to you, and we try to exercise them as often as we can in different situations.

You’re doing great in playing the piano as well, and we love to listen to you. You’re also a natural at movement with your body, and we keep getting great feedback about your natural abilities to control and gracefully move your body from teachers, no matter if you’re doing ballet, swimming or just playing at the “ball schule”.

I personally love to spend time with you, as the bigger you get the more engaging and rich the experience of being with you is for me. We can now talk about a lot of things, and i love answering your many questions about many things. And I also love it that you think I'm a "funny Daddy!".

Because of the way you are, we sometimes forget that you’re still a small girl. That goes to say that you’re really acting and thinking much more maturely than your age, and I have to say that I see myself as a child in you, a tiny little bit.

Now, some general things that apply for you both: you are quite healthy, and for that we’re very grateful. You get sick relatively rarely, and then it’s usually a cold and nothing more serious. You rarely have high temperature or longer bouts of sickness.

You both love to watch Peppa Pig, Ben and Holly and a couple of other video series on YouTube. We try though to keep the screen time rare and far between, on average just a couple of times per week.

You both also love playing in the bathtub with your toys, as well as going to the “Badi” at the lake. You love water!

And you both love each other. You have tender moments with each other quite often, and it melts our hearts whenever we witness them. We hope you’ll keep and nurture this love for each other for the rest of your lives.

I also love the days when I get to take you to school and then pick you up. It's always very nice for me to talk to you about how your day went, to share mine, and to hear your conversations in the back of the car. I love especially Fridays, as we get to spend half of the day together going to Ballet. I even love to have to manage you gently in the days when you are both very tired and cranky; this used to be one of my biggest challenges, but I feel I've improved massively in the last months.

So, that’s about it for my update. I’m very excited for the coming year, as it will bring to your Mommy and to me a set of new challenges and obstacles that we’ll need to manage. Our lives have never been really simple or stable, but I’m more confident than I’ve ever been that we’ll manage, together.

With love, Daddy

[perlocutionary]

Northern Lights, pt. 3 - Stiles Stilinski

Description She comes to those who are in need. It could be, that she’s already here. Y/N is near where she’s most desired. No one knows how much they will need her, but she always knew. Hidden between their friends, Y/N is here to perform an ancient ritual taught to each upcoming generation. She is here for Stiles.

Relationship Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Title It likes its riddles.

Words 2934

A/N Sadly, I wanted to do more actual research before writing this particular part, but since the Wi-Fi was so shit on holiday and I couldn’t update, I just wanted it properly finished so I could update for you guys.Therefore, it won’t be as into detail as I wanted, but it will give you a first idea/peek at Y/N’s history. Happy reading!

There are far more supernatural creatures inhabiting Beacon Hills that I could’ve ever anticipated. Not only did I already encounter a Wendigo family during my short stay, the amount of adolescent werewolves was intriguing to say the least. An alpha. At the age of seventeen. Either I had encountered one of the most feral and malicious werewolves I had yet come across, or his whole family had been slaughtered by hunters. The third option, was something I did not consider. Encountering a true Alpha was something that was in children’s fairytales, a story told so sparse that sometimes we considered it to be a hoax.  But what had I not seen in Beacon Hills yet? From what I knew about this place; it was to expect the unexpected. My curiosity was sparked; every fibre of my being ready to find out just what had happened here, whom had set of this reset button and what dire consequences were to follow. It were my task to protect beings far and wide, and I felt that this wasn’t merely my regular take and go. “You are way too quiet for my liking. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Andy seems to voice his concern, but I know more is laced behind it. He had grown up with Malina, after all. I had always wondered why Malina and Andrew were by my side as my eternal companions. My destined companions, I had never met; Instead, Mal and Andy were chosen and assigned to me. Perhaps my parentals had meaning behind it, but it was uncommon to do so. My mother was never one to deviate from the destined path of our burden. I refocus my gaze from the adolescents strolling into their high school to the blonde-haired male beside me.   “I need to find a way to that table.”  “What table?” Are Malina’s first words that do not hold any grudge toward me for forcing her into this experience. She was opening up to having more trouble to find that one, instead of just coming to town and disappearing before sunrise. “Theirs.” My head nods to Scott and Stiles appearing from the parking lot, and I couldn’t help appreciate the ocean blue colour of Stiles’ jeep. It was a nice drive, and I wondered if I would ever get the chance to drive a vehicle. “I don’t get your fascination with this particular group.” Malina sounds incredulous, but her words were true. There was no clear indication that this particular pack held the one we were here for; Call it a hunch. I knew it at least had to do with them and their pursuits. My head snaps from Malina to her twin brother, the gaze thrown the littlest bit judging.  “Didn’t Andy tell you?” What did they talk about whenever they were together in their temporary home? I knew the myth about the sun chasing the moon was at least true in the sense of Mal and Andy not seeing eye to eye, but I would think that when it came to work at least the whole party was up to date with recent discoveries.  “Tell me what?” I hear the aggravation rise in Malina’s tone and sigh. I scoot closer to her, our bare arms touching one another as I whisper. “An Alpha. And a banshee. And, I think, human?” Malina’s eyes grow bigger with each supernatural in my list and I smirk as I finish it. I’m even more pleased with myself that after a night of digging through family histories, another incredulous fact arose.  “Let’s not forget to mention the fact that the daughter of Chris Argent is also in said pack.” This information was new to both my companions, and I watch the initial shock dissipate as Andy blurs out question after question. “What?” “A huntress with a werewolf?” “She doesn’t know, does she?” It would be amazing if Allison Argent didn’t know that the leader of their little pack was one with incredible powers. Seeing as how the other human – Stiles – was up to date, she couldn’t be left out of the loop. Too much trouble. “If she didn’t know, she would’ve been the first gullible Argent I had ever met.” Andy taps his chin in thought, probably contemplating what I was just last night. As soon as I knew whose granddaughter Allison was, there was no doubt left. “Is she a descendant of Gerard?” And now I'm certain Andy and I are on the same page – Malina trailing behind as I see the gears still turning in her mind. My parentals had a run-in with Gerard Argent a few decades ago; he wasn’t too keen on letting anything supernatural walk this earth. The Argents had broadened their work field – where in the Middle Ages Werewolves were their main priority, they didn’t shy away from a Wendigo or two when the chances arose. Let alone when they came face to face with one of the Elderly. “Mhm. That's what my late night research told me.” Malina has caught up.  “Yeah, no. She knows.” I perhaps wondered if we were here to collect any of the Argent descendants – they never felt the same. Perhaps it was Gerard’s time to go; I’d be more than happy to guide him toward his final destiny. “I find it to say the least interesting that she decides to follow another path, considering the one chosen for her is so clear.” *****

I stroll into class fairly late, seeing as how our little gathering in the morning had made me loss track of time completely. The only open seat is in front of Scott, and I slide in without a second glance to him or his best friend. “What – what are you doing?” I recognize Stiles’ voice from behind and my ears perk up, hearing the sniffing of Scott behind me. “There’s this scent, that I can't place. It’s not human.” My eyes widen and I feel myself tense up, fingernails digging into the worn out wood of the school desk I occupy. I hadn’t thought of the fact that I might carry a particular scent with me that would be detectable for the Alpha’s keen sense. “Is it supernatural?” Stiles’ question isn't all that incredulous, but his best friend snorts nonetheless. Yes, if it isn’t human it probably is something supernatural. Or dead. Absentmindedly, I lift the collar of my shirt and take a whiff. Nothing out of the ordinary. “I – I don’t know. I’ve never smelled this before. Its not a werewolf.” I'm glad when I hear the subject being dropped, Stiles focusing his friend’s attention toward a completely different topic. Another nightmare. “They’re signing something to me…” Stiles trails off, and when Scott questions what exactly, I try to sneak a peak through the reflection of the glass window to see Stiles’ movements. My shoulders tense when I watch his finish, the shiver running along my spine predicting the possibility of my worst fear appearing once more. When is a door not a door

I hadn’t realized the lecture flew by, and when the school bell rings obnoxiously loud, I jump in my seat. I sprint behind the two males and almost run into a third of their pack as they all huddle right outside the class room door. The fact that I'm new and unknown aids in me tailing them without being noticed. The conversation continues, the other werewolf and banshee filled in about current predicaments and the pack deciphering its possible meaning. I’ve stopped following them when they sat down, leaning against a wall nearby so I could still follow their conversation. I've grown to realize Lydia Martin, alongside Stiles, were the brains of their pack. Although even together, their minds couldn’t crack the code. I wait for several more moments, trying to figure out what to do. Stepping up to them and showing them I knew about the supernatural meant I had to explain why I knew what I knew without telling anyone what I am. Not only was it forbidden for my kind to show our true colours, I had heard enough tales about family who’ve ignored the rule and ended up getting annihilated themselves. Holding great secrets isn't something a mortal easily copes with. Not stepping up now and keep my investigation in the shadows meant that I had to find another way to infiltrate – and right now, I was hasty to solve the problem before it arose. And so I chose the first option. “Hey, uh - I'm sorry I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I saw you signing and I overheard you talking –“ I start off, walking up to the supernatural filled table as all their heads snap in my direction.  “It means ‘when is a door not a door’. It’s a riddle.” Scott is the first one to smile in my direction, but I do see the wary glance Lydia throws me from the corner of her eye. He scoots over, joining me to their table and I smile gracefully as I sit down in front of Stiles. Scott crosses his arms over his chest, leaning toward me as his grin never falters. “Do you maybe also know the answer to it?” I push my lips into a thin line and utter my first lie against Scott McCall and his friends. “No, sadly I don’t.”  I do. But my job is not to interfere.  “Maybe you should ask Deaton? I’m sure he knows.” Stiles states as he points toward his best friend, granting me with a tight lipped smile – not meant friendly in any way.

Deaton… That name rang a bell somewhere in the back of my mind. I ignore the foul look Stiles throws in my direction, but instead, wreck my mind for the answer. I see Andrew try and gather my attention from the shade near the school entrance, and I dare to glance as I watch him beckon me over.

Momentarily, my head snaps to the new girl, Kira, joining our table, offering her own insights on the matters at hand. When I hear Andy hiss, I roll my eyes and try to get him off my back until a later time. Afterward, I’d fill them in. But right now, every piece of information I could gather was something useful.

“… It’s basically that you’re being visited by peaceful deities or demons…”

As soon as I hear those words, my shoulders tense and I snap my gaze to the table I’m sat at.

“Uh – what?”

I stumble over the one-worded question, my eyes wide in fear and my fingertips digging into the worn out wooden table. I see some of the pack gaze at me expectantly, as if I were to know what we are discussing, but Andy’s demand for attention temporarily worked.

Kira smiles at me, noticing I wasn’t paying attention and simply repeating herself.

“I said that they’re experiencing Bardo. With everything they’re saying.”

Oh. Oh. Somehow, I believed that my cover were already blown before I had even infiltrated. But, as usual, my heart raced before my mind caught up and caused unnecessary evil.

Although Bardo wasn’t such a good thing to experience either.

Stiles sighs, running his large hand along his face before he drops his forehead against the table.

“I’d rather have the first option then.”

The conversation is interrupted when the school bell chimes once again, indicating the start of the next period to follow. Everyone reluctantly raises to their feet, myself following but trailing behind. I’m sure they didn’t want me to immediately infiltrate whatever they’ve got going on.

It’s when Scott turns around, waiting for me, that I’m actually surprised.

“Hey, you’re in our History class with Yukimura, right?”

A grin breaks out and I suddenly feel shy, mumbling my response all the while nodding my head.

“Mhm.”

His hand lands on my shoulder and he guides me forward, the touch rarely comforting. I could not believe that this boy would be capable of murdering another without any remorse – there had to be another way he became an Alpha.

“Well, come on then. Can’t be late. This year, I want good grades.”

Before I can follow Scott inside the building, I’m yanked off to the side by my elbow, face to face with my dearest companion.

“What did you find out?”

I see Scott just a few steps away and I pull myself out of Andy’s grasp, already walking away from him without granting him any details.

“I’ll tell you later. We have history now.”

*****

As soon as I step foot into the class room, I feel a chill run down my spine. Mr. Yukimura smiles briefly as he motions me to take my seat, Malina keeping a spare seat for me beside her. I smile once more to Scott McCall before taking my place, but I can’t help myself to glance briefly in Stiles’ direction.

“Why are you here?”

“I switched classes. Can’t let my lady do all the work herself now, can I?”

I smile gratefully at my companion, squeezing her arm before the teacher demands our attention. I didn’t know why I deserved them.

“Today I want to talk to you about the Second World War. More importantly,” Mr. Yukimura starts, turning around to scribble something on the board. The squeaking of the chalk against the board makes me groan desperately, gripping my pen until my fingertips turn white.

“… I want to talk to you about the internment camps the government forced the Asian-Americans into.”

Before I can control it, I visibly flinch. I feel the bile rise up in my throat from just the mere memory of it, my whole body tensing to the point I am unable to move. My throat feels dry, and I grow anxious as every little detail slips back into my conscious mind, reminding me of true horror.

“Why did you flinch?”

I feel Malina’s fist come into contact with my upper arm and I shy away, rubbing against the sore spot as I throw her distasted look. I swallow harshly, turning around to see if anyone was tuning in to our conversation before leaning toward her, my voice dropping to a whisper.

“It was my first year. Back when I was still alone…” I sigh, closing my eyes as the memories start to play out like a film beneath my closed eyelids.

“I worked as a nurse in said internment camp…”

I feel my hands start to shake just reminiscing how quickly it escalated.

“It was the first and last time I ran into a monster, something so vile I…”

“Mr. Stilinski, perhaps you’d like to read this fragment of the book?”

The anxiety flows off the male so densely even I can sense it. He’s shaking as he throws a look toward his best friend, shaking his head in hopes to be saved, but Mr. Yukimura still ushers him to the front.

Malina and I cross gazes, my teeth sinking into my cheek as I await the inevitable. If Stiles was truly unable to read, this would not end well.

He walks up to the front, opening the book on the right page and … Nothing happens. He starts to sweat, his tongue darting over his bottom lip excessively as he tries – but it doesn’t help. I watch the male have a panic attack, and I feel my own heartbeat rapidly pounding in my throat as Scott raises from his seat and ushers his best friend out of the room in a split second.

The class room is quiet, Mr. Yukimura staring after the disappeared males before scraping his throat.

“Okay, I have no idea what that was about so perhaps we should continue…”

He gets on with his lesson, but I couldn’t shake it. The inability to read, the fact that Scott couldn’t control his wolf powers… There was something luring around the corner. And I could only hope it wasn’t my own worst nightmare.

“There’s something going on that I don’t understand.”

I lean back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare at Stiles’ and Scott’s lone back packs, utensils still splattered along their desks.

“More the reason to find out what the hell is going on here, as soon as possible.”

I did understand the urgency behind this task. But somehow I felt that rushing things wasn’t something that we were supposed to do. Also, whatever it was that needed our aid wasn’t here yet, or at least had not manifested. There was a lingering feeling, but it wasn’t strong enough to immediately point me toward the sole individual we were looking for.

I couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that it all gave me.

“Honestly…”

Malina merely hums, keeping her eyes trained on the board to avoid being caught. I do the same.

“I feel like we’re up against something similar as to what I have experienced back then.”

Just admitting that this was a similar feeling I had been experiencing as to what I felt back then, was something that made my skin crawl. If anything, I would fight a hundred demons if it meant never encountering this one again. In the end, I had condemned him to the Underworld. Or so I thought.

“What was it?”

I turn toward her, her curiosity faltering as she sees my anxious gaze searching hers, disbelief for my behaviour and a tiny hint of fear surfacing instead.

“A fox had created the Nogitsune. And just as what’s happening now, it liked its riddles.”

Forever tag: @flirtstiles @mischiefandi @ssweet-empowerment@fuckwhateverfuck @behind-my-hazeleyes27 @itsbilescallmebiles @daddyxraeken @lovelynerdytraveler @redstringlovers @suggsmate@dylxnob @bojabee  @beingafangirlistheonlylifestyle @voidkitsune24 @bashlacroix

NL tag: @twilight-loveer @sharenaloveyoux

[dang-misha]

Imagine – Finding out Carl is bit and being with him until the very end.

Word Count – 3,717

Warnings – Death, SADDD

A/N – I didn’t know if I should write this or not because Carl 1000% deserves to be alive but sadly he isn’t. My heart hurts so much, a fictional character death has never hurt me this bad. So I’m writing this to hopefully help me cope and help anyone who needs it too! Haha. Hope everyone enjoys. (Also should I make a part two to this? Like an update on how you’re coping. It’d have a lot of fluff with Daryl. Let me know!)

-

You and Carl have been dating for about 3 years, at least you think. With this whole apocalypse thing going on it’s kind of hard to keep track of time. You’ve been friends since the prison and started dating about a year after you met. You two were as close as you could be. You’ll never forget the day he finally admitted he has feelings for you.

“Carl, sorry if you don’t like it but I can go out by myself. I don’t need a babysitter, I’m fine!” You yelled, throwing your arms in the air and walking away until you hear him say something you never thought you’d hear from him

“I love you, please don’t leave me.” You froze, making his heart race even faster

“What did you say?”

“I – I said I love you. I don’t want you to go because I’m terrified of anything happening to you. I can’t lose you so please don’t g-“ You ran up to him and kissed him as hard as possible. You could feel him smile against your lips and his hands in your hair.

“I’ve waited way to long to hear you say that.”

“Well get ready because you’re going to hear me say it a lot more from now on.”

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Ya listening?” Daryl asked loudly, waving his hand in your face

“Yes. Sorry I was just thinking.”

“Thinkin about what?”

“Carl, the usual.” You blushed, making him chuckle.

“You two are so cute, it’s actually gross.” You and Daryl always had a brother and sister relationship type of thing. At first when you showed up at the prison after Rick found you on the side of the road and decided to take you in after questioning you for what seemed like hours Daryl didn’t trust you at all, but everyone said that’s normal for Daryl. After a few weeks when he got to know you more he started trusting you more and eventually you became good friends. Then when he learned about your hard past he felt like he had someone he could relate and vent to. Now other than Carl he’s the person you’re closest with.

“Shut up” You smiled, punching his arm playfully. You guys went back to doing work when you heard someone whistle. It was Carl.

“Speak of the devil” Daryl laughed, leaving you two alone

Carl walked up and kissed your cheek, giving you a tight hug after

“Hey puddin’” Puddin was your nickname for him.

“You and that darn nickname. I got hungry and ate a ton of pudding once and now that story will never leave me huh?”

“Nope!” You smiled, kissing him after.

“So what’s your plan today?”

“Doing a few chores with Daryl then after that I should be free if you want to take a walk or something. I found this cool abandoned house that has comics inside!”

“Oh.. Um, I might have to watch Judith.”

“I thought Maggie wanted to watch her tonight? And come on you know how much you love your comics.”

“Plans change, sorry babe.” Your heart broke. Normally It wouldn’t bother you but the last few days he’s been acting a little stand offish towards you which is very unusual. He never acts like this unless somethings wrong. When he lost his eye he was standoffish for awhile which you expected but after a few days things were going back to normal.

“Don’t look at me!” Carl shouted, covering his face with his hands. This was your first time visiting him after the incident happened.

“Baby, you know I won’t think any differently of you. You know I love you, it’s ok.” You reached out to him but he pushed himself away.

“Please don’t lie to me Y/N, not now. I’m a fucking freak, I have one eye for god’s sake!”

“You’re not a freak! Carl I know you’re hurting –“

“Don’t. I don’t need pity, I just want to be left alone. Please leave me alone.” His voice shook, still not removing his hands from his face. You respected his wishes and went to walk out

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” You whispered, he didn’t say a word so you left and closed to door. You rested your back against the door and slid down, sitting on the floor while you softly cried into your hands. A few seconds later you felt someone sitting against the other side.

“I’m sorry.” Carl said softly. You didn’t respond, got up and walked away. Michonne warned you that this would be hard and that you’d have to deal with things like this but it was a lot harder than expected. She gave you a whole speech on how you have to be strong for him but it’s harder than it sounds. Watching someone you love hurt that much is absolutely destroying.

About a week goes by and things are finally starting to calm down. Carl wasn’t completely comfortable around you yet, but he could show his face without having a panic attack which was a good sign that things were looking up.

You were laying on the couch reading one of Carl’s comics when he came in and sat at your feet.

“I’m ready.” He sighed, making you confused

“Ready for…?” You asked, closing the comic and putting it on the lamp stand behind you.

“You to help change my bandage.”

This was a huge deal. You wanted to scream, give him a huge hug, cry tears of joy but you tried your best to play it cool and not scare him. You took his hand and walked him up the stairs into the bathroom.

“I love you, Carl. I don’t care if you have two eyes or none you will always be perfect to me.”

“Well lets hope it doesn’t come to that.” You both laughed, making him feel a little less tense.

“This might sting a little, I’m sorry.”

Carl nodded and held your hand, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. He knew it was one of your favorite things he does to you. He winced as you cleaned the wound.

“I- I’m sorry. I’d take away the pain if I could.”

“It’s all good babe, no worries.”

You talked about funny stories to keep his mind off the pain then finished. He kissed you and gave you a hug then you both went on with the rest of the day. Everything was finally ok.

“Ok, well if you decide you want to hangout you know where I am.” He nodded, kissed your cheek and left to go do his own thing.

-

“Do you think Carl’s been weird lately?” You asked Michonne.

“Not that I’ve noticed, but then again I haven’t been around much. Why what’s wrong?”

“He’s been very… standoffish? I don’t know, maybe I’m just overthinking it but I think he doesn’t want to be around me anymore.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“No, I’m to scared that it’ll start an argument. In this world now you can’t argue a lot because you never know when you’re going to lose someone. I mean It’s always been like that but now it’s worse considering we got freaking dead people chomping around.”

You and Michonne sighed, not saying anything for a few minutes.

“I think you should just talk to him. Maybe he’s just upset and to scared to vent. If it starts getting intense just end the conversation and move on. It’ll all be ok.” You gave her a hug and a thank you then left to go find Carl.

You were walking around when you saw him sitting on the porch with Judith in his lap in a rocking chair. You always loved his bond he had with Judith. It made you really miss your younger sister.

“Hey babe” He smiled while Judith waved

“Hello, what are you two cuties up to?”

“We were just looking at the stars and chatting. How about you?”

“Just walking around getting some fresh air. Hey those are cute! Did you guys do those today?” You asked, pointing to the blue handprints on the wood.”

“Yeah, we got bored.” Carl smiled, poking Judith’s side and making her laugh.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded. Your heart was pounding. The thought of him being mad at you hurt to the core.

“Are you ok?” He gave you a confused look

“Yes?”

“You’ve.. been weird lately.”

“What? How?” Judith started fussing.

“Hold on, let me put her to bed. I’ll be right back.” He left and you sat on the stairs, waiting for him to come back out. You took some deep breaths to calm yourself down then the sound of the door closing made you jump.

“How have I been weird?” He asked, standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You never want to hangout anymore..”

“What? I always want to hangout. I’ve just been busy y/n.”

“I know but –“ he cut you off

“I think I’m going to bed I have to get up early to help dad with something. Goodnight, I love you.” He kissed you goodbye and left so quickly you couldn’t even say I love you back. Something is definitely going on.

You didn’t get any sleep that night.

-

You were on watch by yourself for the morning which gave you a lot of unwanted time to think. Overthinking is seriously the worst. “What if he doesn’t love me anymore?” “Is he sick?” “Is he depressed?” “Did someone spread rumors about us and he’s mad about it?”

“Hey” his voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry about last night. I was tired and Judith was moody all day which made me moody and I just –“

“Carl, it’s alright. I get it.”

You both sighed and looked out at the woods in front of you. It was silent for a few minutes until you looked over and noticed he was sweating.

“You ok? You’re drenched in sweat.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah I’m fine. Just a little hot is all.”

“It’s like 60 degrees. Are you sure you’re ok? If you’re sick I can go out and get you some medicine.”

“Babe I’m fine, I promise. I got to go help dad but I just wanted to stop by and see your pretty face. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him goodbye and he left. Alone, again. Great.

As you sat and watched out for any intruders or Negan and his crew you thought about your memories with Carl.

“You know, you look pretty badass with one eye.” You smirked, making him blush.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Nobody’s going to fuck with you. You’re so cool, I better watch out because some ladies might find it to cool then I’ll have to kick their ass.” You joked

“Nah, you won’t have to worry about that. I’m allll yours.”

“Are you sure you want to be stuck with me forever?”

“I have never been so sure of anything in my entire life.”

That memory always sticks in your head, you especially think about it during bad times.

“Don’t touch him.” You growled at Negan as he got close to your boyfriend. Carl’s eye went wide as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was more scared because of the big dude threatening to bash his head in or because you literally just set yourself up for death itself.

“Holy shit, you got balls don’t ya! Talkin’ to me like that when I could literally just bash your brains in right now.”

“She your lady?” Negan asked Carl. He nodded.

“She’s pretty cute. She won’t be so cute though with her brain juice all over you. Shut her up!” He yelled, making him jump.

“I – I don’t talk to her that way..”

“Well ya better start, or she goes bye bye.”

“No-“

“NOW!”

“Shut up, y/n! Listen to him and stop trying to get yourself killed!” He yelled. You felt like someone just stabbed a knife through your heart and kicked you in the dirt along with it. You know he didn’t mean it and only did it to save your life but it still hurt. He gave you the most apologetic look you’ve ever seen in your entire life and mouthed “I’m sorry”.

“That’a boy! Don’t let her screw you around.”

You screamed as you watched Glenn get beat to death. Glenn was your father figure. You loved him so much and now he was gone.

“Glenn! No!” You cried, wailing almost. Carl went to hold your hand to calm you down until Simon saw and pushed him to the ground which scared you even more. He pushed his gun in your boyfriend’s back and made sure you watched every bit.

“Aw, trying to comfort your girl?” Negan acted like he cared but you know he didn’t.

“Keep making moves like that and I fucking swear you’ll be next and I’ll make sure she watches every bit of it. I won’t let her look away, I won’t even let her blink.”

You’ve had nightmares about the night ever since it happened. Not a night goes by you don’t dream about it in some way.

Carl woke up to a loud, curdling scream coming from down the hall. He ran out of his room, not even caring he was just in his boxers and ran straight to the noise. His heart dropped when he saw you stirring around in your sleep, kicking and screaming at the air.

“Babe? Babe it’s me! It’s Carl!” You were still screaming.

“Oh god, oh god please wake up. Baby! Hey!” He yelled, grabbing your shoulders. You finally woke up and you were shaking in fear and drenched in sweat. You laid your head on his chest as you bawled your eyes out. He held you close and rested his chin on top of your head. He ran his finger tips up and down your arm, shushing softly and humming to calm you down.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” Carl rarely sung, but he knew that was one of your favorite songs.

He kept you in his arms and laid back against your bed frame. He hummed all kinds of soothing songs and rubbed your arm until you finally fell back asleep. He made sure to never leave your side that night and always made sure to sleep with his door open in case you needed him again.

You loved Carl more than words could describe. You two been through everything together. The thought of him not being in your life scared you to death.

-

You sat in the nasty sewer, waiting for all the craziness outside to stop. You all sat and waited around when you noticed Carl looked horrible. He’s been looking rough lately but you thought it was maybe just from stress from everything.

“Puddin… You don’t look so good.” You said softly, running your fingers through his greasy hair. He put his hand on your lap and looked you in your eyes.

“Y/N…” He said softly

“Yes babe what is it? Do you need water?”

“Get dad and Michonne..” You were confused.

“What? Why?”

“Get them… now… please.” You got up and walked over to them, telling them that Carl needed them but you weren’t sure why.

You, Rick and Michonne walked over to him. You made sure to bring a bottle of water with you.

“Carl?” Rick asked

Carl didn’t say anything and slowly pulled up his shirt, showing a patch on his side. He lifted down the patch to reveal a bite. Your world completely stopped.

“No.....No!” You said in disbelief. Michonne gasped and Rick ran his hands over his face.

“Carl…. When?!” Michonne asked

He explained what happened. The memories from that day came as if it happened yesterday. You remembered you had a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach that day as if something was wrong or something wasn’t right. You remembered you begged him to stay home that day.

“I knew something was wrong… Damn it!” You began to cry. Carl placed his hand on top of yours and held it.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m so…. Sorry.” You cried and laid your head on his stomach. Michonne tried her best to stay strong while Rick sat there in disbelief. Shock taking over his body.

“I can’t lose you…. I can’t. There is absolutely no way..”

“I’m right here babe, it’s ok.” Carl said softly, placing your hair behind your ear and giving you the warmest smile. He looked so tired and worn out.

“Everything ok?... holy shit..” Daryl gasped, seeing Carl’s bite.

Nobody said anything. The room was just filled with sounds of bombs, shooting and you crying.

As the night went on Carl was getting worse. Around his eye was red and swollen but glassy. He was sweating as if it was 200 degrees and he was wheezing more as time went by. Rick tried to give him some water but nothing was helping.

He talked to Judith. He wanted to make sure he said goodbye. He talked to Daryl and kissed Judith’s cheek and told them he loved them. You then realized why he put the handprints on the wood planks back at the house. He wanted to make sure Judith had something to remember him by. The past few hours all you did was sit right by Carl’s side. You talked about everything and anything you could think of.

“Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

“Yes y/n, a million times.” He smiled, making you smile too. He has the prettiest smile.

“Have I told you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

“Yes”

“Have I told you how badass you are?”

“Oh yeah, that I already knew before you told me.” He winked. Even in the worse situations he’d try to make everything ok. You always loved that about him.

“I love you.”

“I know, I love you too.”

“I love you more.”

“Yeah, you’re funny.”

Everyone decided it was best to leave now that everyone was gone. You helped Rick and Michonne carry Carl to a safe place. He kept begging for you guys to stop for a second but you knew you had to keep going. Finally you found somewhere safe to stay for a little while.

“Guys… It’s happening…soon…I can feel it..” Carl breathed out. Tears filled your eyes along with Michonne and Rick’s.

“No…” Rick said.

Carl thanked him for everything he’s ever done for him. He talked to Michonne for a while too. You could tell time was slipping away, it was horrible.

“Y/N…” He breathed, holding your hand.

“Yes honey?”

“Take care of yourself…. Please.. I love you so much... Do it for me…. Please..”

You nodded as tears fell down your cheek and onto his hand.

“Hey… don’t cry..” He said, wiping your tears away. You placed your hand on his and held it on your cheek for a while. His touch was so warm on your cold face.

“Please take care of Judith… she loves you, you know? She talks about you all the time…. She always asks where you are or when you’re coming home. She loves you so much.”

“You still got my necklace I gave you?” He asked, you nodded and pulled it out from underneath the collar of your shirt.

“I wear it all the time.”

“Good, I got mine too…” He smiled, showing his as well. He was on a run one day when he found them in a store. They were good as new and knew you both needed to have them.

“Don’t forget about me please..” He started tearing up.

“Carl Grimes you are absolutely out of your mind if you think that would ever happen.”

“I know… I’m sorry. I’m just scared.” This time you held his hand and rubbed circles on it to calm him down. He sighed and smiled through the tears.

“I know baby, It’ll be ok. You’ll see your mom again. Glenn, Hershel, Abe, Sasha, that Dale dude you’re always talking about. He seemed really great.”

“He…. He was.. I really miss mom..”

He reached over and grabbed a gun.

“No… No..” Rick sighed, shaking his head.

“We can’t… let you do this.. Carl, no… no way.” You said

“I can do it… I’m strong enough.”

“I love you” He looked over and told Michonne. Michonne said it back and gave him a hug.

“I love you Dad” his voice broke

“I love you Carl, I love you so much.”

“Y/N… my love..”

“Please don’t leave me…” You said so quietly, squeezing his hand.

“I’ll never leave y…you.. I love you, so, so much sweetheart…”

“I love you. I love you puddin…”

You both burst into tears as you hugged each other tightly. You kissed each other for what would be the last time.

“You should have someone with you. I’ll stay. A father shouldn’t have to see this..” you said. Rick and Michonne hesitated for a moment then left. You told Carl you loved him one more time, gave him another hug and kissed his forehead.

You turned your back to him and looked at the floor.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey… You’ll never know dear how much I love you.. please…. don’t’ take… my sunshine…away…”

~BANG~

[dallasareaopinion]

The Savior Dilemma  updated

Let’s break this down into some parts, but first the random not serious comment to throw this off.

Everyone better wish the Catholic Monotheist Creator is the correct one because with the way we are acting on this planet we need all the forgiving we can get or we are all going to hades in a hand basket. 

The first part is some non standard theology musings. 

Everyone has heard of the serenity prayer: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference. 

And if you do an internet search for acceptance in scripture you get an inordinate amount of different ways the concept of acceptance is viewed.

Then there are the arguments or discussions that we were created ten thousand years ago, or there is no God and we are a fluke and somewhere in this fluke the universe came about, or there is the idea that we evolved yet were still created, or you can find mysticism, or other random mythological creation stories or just do the internet search. To be honest I subscribe to the we are created, but it goes back to the beginning and the big bang is part of our creation. This is important to me because looking at it any other way and you discount creation and the power of our creator. Hold onto this thought.

Go back to the serenity prayer. This is not an ancient prayer, basically this is something written within the last one hundred years, but the concept comes from scriptures, yet lets put this in a different context. Suppose you are trying to communicate with man as the creator and you want to teach ancient man there are things you cannot control, but there are things you can control. This prayer would be helpful. Yet ancient man did not have the control of linguistics we have now. So how does ancient man learn to accept the fact Earth has tectonic plates and everything else that create a vibrant planet so life can thrive. Somewhat difficult of a conversation when science hasn’t been taught in third grade yet. What happens? Maybe some conversations are misunderstood. 

Now this ancient man though is dealing with weather, earthquakes, natural fires, tornadoes, heat, cold, wind, and all the other natural occurrences that make this planet work. Ancient mankind has no idea what is going on, yet over time slowly learns to cope, but needs to understand there are some things that can’t be changed and some that can be. Mankind evolves into a society.

And all the while events and disasters, natural and manmade affect the world and are part of the world as it is created. 

Now the second part:

Mankind is or has become obsessed with the idea of perfection. Yet who judges what is perfection. Oh we are so good at telling everyone what is perfect, shoot we have the number for perfect: “10″. It can be a movie or it can be a gymnast landing score, but somewhere something is perfect. And what you think is perfect is vastly different from what I think is perfect and this could be true even if we have general agreement on the subject at hand. 

Yet even with this agreement of the subject we project our internal concept of perfection on others. And the more we think about it, the more we are right. This goes for the individual and it can expand to a group think. We find like minded ideas for perfection so we feel better about our definition of perfection. And yet if everyone in the group wrote down their definition of perfection separately the group would not be as cohesive as first thought.

So what happens when someone says God is perfect. You now have 7 billion versions of perfect and yet not one of those 7 billion know what is perfect. We know nothing of perfection in reality, but we sure know what is perfect in our eyes. We project a perfect God, but know not of God to know what is the perfection of God. Oh some will disagree with me, they have their Bible or what not, and it tells you straight up who is God and what we should do. Those people scare me and I believe in God. The perfect answer to God is to know you do not know God’s perfection. 

The third part

Life sucks right now. People I know who are way more devout believers than myself are struggling. Not with their faith, but with the world. Good hard working Christians that live by the creed you must have faith and yes you will not know everything and there are some things you have to accept because it is all part of God’s plan. And I am being satirical and thoughtful simultaneously with the above thought. I truly believe and understand we have to accept what is going on and there is much more than you or I can understand. And what the heck is God’s plan is way beyond any of us. And yes some people rely on this thinking too much. They live with this belief of accepting God’s plan of what they do not understand because they fear randomness may actually exist and bad things can happen because well life sucks. They need a purpose put upon them.  They also project this purpose to others.

So when someone who subscribes to the above creed says I need a visible sign they know they are not going to get one, yet they are desperately searching for one because we are human. They need something.

The Fourth Part

So here we are desperately needing an explanation as to why everything is upside down, what is it that we cannot change and what is it we can change, and why if God is perfect is nothing else perfect. 

And here is where it gets ugly. People will now start creating a savior. And yet what do we need this savior for? The Jewish people are still waiting on a King to rescue them as a people. Christians are waiting for a second coming. Muslims the Iman Mahdi, but be careful here, there is some conflict about the discussion of his coming and pre-existence if any. Again be careful. And my ignorance here is dangerous. 

And in general, someone on this planet right now is drawing or painting a hero, someone to rescue them, someone to show others how wrong they are and that there is a better place. We project saviors and heroes just as well as we do perfection. Shoot even the counter part to God is made into a hero. People nowadays take the ugliness of hate and draw caricatures of evil and try to make them seem heroic or even attractive hoping that this entity or identity is something special. 

We want to be saved, yet as with no understanding of perfection we have no understanding of being saved. Some Christians use the term once saved always saved, but saved from what. Their sins? From themselves? 

We call Jesus a Savior, but he did not save us from the Romans or any other tyrants. 

Jewish people want the Savior King, yet exactly what would this King bring to them. 

I will respectively leave other faiths alone, but in general people hold onto beliefs of saviors because they fear the unknown. 

And yet there is no Savior dilemma. We were saved the day the world was created because we are here. We create the dilemma of needing to be saved. 

So it goes back to understanding the difference of knowing what you can change and what you cannot.  You can build a house to protect you from getting wet. You cannot make it stop raining. You can understand that everything has been given to you, but you have no power to control it. You may know enough science to understand how the dynamics of the world works, but you do not know why God knows this is perfect.

We need a savior because we refuse to accept that we are not in control of this, we want those signs that validate that my beliefs are the correct beliefs.

We are given life and it is perfect as it is given. Why do we want to be saved from perfection?

Post script

I am a Catholic. I stand up and say the Creed every Mass. I believe in the Trinity and all that it entails. I pray rosaries. I know Jesus died on the Cross for our sins. I am human with frailties and faults. 

Some Catholics/Christians will disagree that I am Catholic or Christian because I will question my religion. I hope never to question my faith, but again I am human with frailties and faults.

Yet I write this post about the dilemma of saviors, not to question Christ, but to question ourselves. We fail God when we look for saviors. 

I saw a modern Catholic lecturer and Bishop once explain that God sees us how he sees us, not how we see ourselves. There is a perfection to us that is always created. Our own insecurity about who we are make us hide. To me this makes us want a savior. Perfection does not mean I have never sinned, and of course it does not mean my sins are part of my perfection, they are part of me though. I do not know what perfection is, yet it was given to me. 

People will call Jesus a savior with a capital “S” and they completely miss the point on what Jesus did. Jesus is not the classic hero savior, but so many Christians attribute this to him hoping that one day he returns and makes all the bad go away. He already took the bad. We are the ones who cannot go forward. Sure one day there may a glorious return and all of us will be judged, but there will not be a savior. For again, we were saved the day we were created because creation was perfect. What exactly does a savior need to do?

Jesus did die for our sins and that is something altogether different.

Post post script

Going back to the belief we are part of a much larger creation, that somewhere we were created through a long evolving process does not mean any one idea is right. It just means none of us, and I mean none of us, whether cleric or scientist or in between, none of us know the whole story of how we came to be. We can speculate and I love to, but if anyone says they know the definitive truth, run. 

And finally I forgot after all this to say, no one as an idea of what is a savior or what exactly they expect one to be or what one looks like. Misguided dreams

[selfiecharmedlife]

RE: Violent Femmes or "My mind created that demon"

TW: discussion of self-harm

It’s been a minute. A lot has happened but between SRS recovery and COVID-19, it doesn’t feel like that much time has passed. I’d like to go back to updating this again. 

Lately, I’ve been getting more into streaming and decided to revisit one of my favorite games, The Missing: J.J. Macfield and Island of Memories. It’s a gem that has lived rent free in my head since I first played it and revisiting it after having sorted more of my own queerness opened up some new interpretations in my mind. I’m also writing a longer video essay script, but there is one thing I wanted to get onto “paper” as quickly as possible; I want to talk about the Hairshreiker.

Quick spoiler for the game. The Missing follows the protagonist, J.J. Macfield, through an increasingly surrealist adventure across an island in pursuit of her “friend” aka girlfriend Emily. Along the way, she discovers she has the ability to recover from grievous bodily harm. What follows is a journey of setting yourself on fire, dismembering yourself to just a head and throwing your limbs around in order to solve puzzles and progress. As your progress, things become increasingly surreal culminating in the reveal that J.J. is a trans woman currently dying following a suicide attempt. With the exception of the text messages that outline the events leading up to her attempt to take her own life, everything in the world has a deeper symbolic meaning relating to her history and sense of self. 

At various points in the game, J.J. encounters the Hairshreker. As it gives chase, the player will need to run away and solve puzzles in order to escape to the next area. For as much as there is to say about this game and as much has already been said, I didn’t find much about the Hairshreiker while googling around. The consensus I did find proposes that the creature represents J.J.’s dysphoria or regret or having been assigned male at birth. I don’t disagree with that, but there are some specific things about the way the creature was designed speak heavily to me and so I’m gonna tell you about them!

So breaking it down, the first thing that jumps at me when I look at this design is that the creature is unmistakably feminine. When they first appear, they saunter and sashay before breaking into a run. They even playfully place a finger on their cheek and pop out their hips at points during the chase. Simply put, the Hairshreiker is hot, seductive and showcases an exaggerated notion of femininity. Despite this, the creature is also grotesque with alien movements, a shrill wailing voice and sickly white skin. These two dissonant facets of the design are in chorus rather than at odds and combine to create a creature that is both alien and alluring. It’s also worth pointing out that the wig J.J. is wearing in the image sent around her college is very similar to the Hairshrekier’s own hair. 

The second thing that comes to mind, is the image of the bright red box cutter contrasting against a ghostly white hand. It went over my head at first, but a friend pointed out to me that Japanese media has a strong association between box cutters and self-harm. Considering that the art gallery also has an image of J.J. self-harming with a box cutter despite it never occurring in the game, this choice must have been deliberate. The Hairshrieker is never seen without the box cutter in hand. Since the story of the game is a dream, we can only assume that the connection between these different forces represents something significant in J.J.’s mind. To her, this warped image of a feminine self is deeply connected to her suggested history of self-harm. 

I’ve talked on this blog before about how I knew I was trans from a young age. I also knew that my position as the oldest child and having been named after my father meant that my parents had big expectations for me. I knew that telling them my secret wouldn’t go over well so I lived for ~26 years knowing for every minute that I would have been happier having been born a girl. My parents took me to therapists trying to find out why I was so unhappy. My memory of that period is hazy, but most of those therapists must have had some idea what was really going on with me. One of them even tried to suggest to my mother, without outing me, that their child wanted to be someone else. My mother disagreed and we started seeing someone else soon after. 

    Knowing that my parents wouldn’t approve meant that I had to repress my desire to be a woman. Repression isn’t a passive process, it’s something you have to actively keep up with. Dysphoria and the desire to transition would creep up on me and I’d have to find new ways to choke it back down. As a kid, I remember visualizing my desire as an over-the-top feminine sentai monster that I would have to defeat. Other times, coping with dysphoria meant punishing myself for once again having such a selfish desire to be a woman. After all, how could I be the good kid my parents wanted me to be if I had this awful secret that I knew would hurt them?

   Years of repression warped my relationship with femininity into something monstrous. It was something that I had to actively avoid and it only got worse as I got older. Seeing a partner’s vanity table stressed me out. Even walking past cosmetic isles in stores was harrowing. I had created a monster out of myself. All those fantasies about striking it down never worked, it always came back. Deep down, I knew that if it caught up to me, then I would have to accept a truth about myself. In a sense, I would die. 

So how does this all come back together with The Missing? In a game where J.J. is able to recover from almost any injury, the Hairshrieker is one of the only things that can actually kill her. In her dream, being caught by the monstrous image of femininity that she created is one of the only real threats. As the game progresses, it becomes harder to escape. During the final escape sequence, there are even some cases where getting cut is unavoidable. The only way to progress and temporarily escape from J.J.’s monstrous sense of femininity is to give in to self-destruction. Sometimes those injuries feel like they’re helping you in the moment.  

That does change however when you reach the finale of the game. J.J. accepts herself, her desire to transition and that the Hairshrieker is a part of her. That acceptance gives her the power to finally put it to rest and find peace living as her authentic self. 

Maybe I’m reaching here, but at least some of these connections between femininity, shame, repression and maladaptive coping feel deliberate. Even if they aren’t, the image of the Hairshreiker will stay with me for a long time. There are some other thoughts I have about characters in this game that I might share in the near future as well. For now, I can at least say I didn’t go a year without updating this blog!

[thaimassagegreenock]

The Pandemic’s Toll on Mental Health and Relationships: What Can We Learn?

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When Mark asked me to write a post about the toll the pandemic is taking on mental health and relationships, I didn’t want simply to detail the ways it’s hard to live through a pandemic. Nor did I want to throw a bunch of statistics at you about how many people are having a difficult time. You know that it’s like living in the world’s least entertaining Groundhog-Day-meets-dystopian-thriller film.

If you’re like me, you’re sick of kvetching about 2020. The fact is, though, that I don’t know anyone, myself included, who isn’t struggling in one way or another right now.

After a lot of reflection, I’ve concluded that a big reason why 2020 is so draining is that our usual coping strategies don’t work like we want or expect. Most are aimed at reducing the source of our distress or dealing with the emotional aftermath. This pandemic is ongoing. We’re stuck in the middle of it, with no end in sight, and no way to speed the process along.

That doesn’t mean we’re helpless, though. Personally, I’m a huge believer in practicing self-compassion as a means of coping, almost no matter the situation. I’m talking a formal practice of self-compassion, as outlined by Dr. Kristin Neff and others. This requires self-awareness—mindfully tuning in to what is happening in your brain and body—and then offering yourself understanding and grace for what you’re feeling and how you’re responding. It’s perfect for situations like the one we’re in now, where we have little control over our suffering (the term used in the self-compassion literature), but we desire peace.

Because of my background, in the quest for self-awareness, I always look at situations through the dual lens of ancestral health and social psychology. Ever the optimist, I also look for opportunities to learn and do better when possible. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far.

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Facing the Unique Challenges of Living Through a Pandemic

I said I didn’t want to gripe, but let’s acknowledge that the pandemic is taking a serious toll. Survey after survey shows that more people are struggling with and anxiety. Distance learning is a challenge. Healthcare workers are under a tremendous amount of stress, as our other essential workers. People are sleeping poorly. Substance abuse is on the rise.

Which is to say, 2020 is exhausting, for lots of reasons.

Stressors Are Meant to Be Acute

Mark talks about this all the time. Humans are best equipped to deal with brief, intense stressors. We fight, flee, or freeze, and then, assuming a saber-toothed tiger hasn’t eaten us, we recover.

Everything about the present situation is misaligned with our genetic expectations. We’re simply not built to withstand long-term, unyielding stress—not from our jobs, chronic cardio, chronic sleep deprivation, and certainly not from six months of pandemic with no end in sight.

Remember back at the beginning of the pandemic where people were all, “Use this time to work on a new skill, build your side business, Marie Kondo your whole house!”

Lololol.

Now we’re beating ourselves up for feeling unproductive, lacking the motivation to exercise, and craving comfort foods. Instead, we should be lowering our expectations and telling coronavirus, “It’s not me; it’s you.”

Staying Afloat

When it comes to stress, even chronic stress, the goal is usually to eliminate it as much as possible. Here, though, our only real option is to try to keep our heads above water while we wait for things to get better. It doesn’t surprise me that substance abuse seems to be on the rise. When we can’t control stressors, sometimes it seems easier to numb out. The problem is, numbing isn’t coping. It’s avoidance. Drinking a bottle of wine while binge-watching a show may be great escapism, but at best, it’s a temporary fix.

In many cases, our best option is, in fact, self-compassion, radical acceptance, whatever you want to call it, plus a heaping dose of self-care. The trick, I think, is to acknowledge that the goal isn’t to alleviate stress or feel “normal.” It’s to stay afloat long enough to see the other side.

Questions I’m asking myself:

Am I expecting too much of myself, or failing to give myself necessary grace, given the amount of stress I can’t control

Am I using numbing strategies instead of coping strategies?

Mismatch Between Basic Needs and Coping Strategies

I’ve come to believe that many mental and emotional hardships are due to a mismatch between why we’re struggling and what we’re told to do about it.

Let me back up. Psychologists have proposed various models of basic human needs. You’re probably familiar with Maslow’s hierarchy, for example. At the base of Maslow’s pyramid are basic physiological and safety needs (food, warmth), then you work your way up to belongingness (relationships), esteem (pride, accomplishment), and finally self-actualization.

Academics don’t put a lot of stock in it, but it’s stuck around for more than seven decades because it has high face validity. That is, it feels right. We need to attend to physiological and safety needs before we can worry about connecting to other people, and certainly before becoming the best version of ourselves.

Those foundational needs are always more pressing, and all of us are facing novel threats to our safety. Not surprisingly, data from two polls conducted by the Kaiser Family Foundation and one from the U.S. Census Bureau confirm that the mental health toll has been greater for people who have experienced job loss or income insecurity.

Yet, much of the coping advice is aimed at those higher-tier needs—connecting to others, learning a new skill, becoming a zen master. I’ve been guilty of this, too. I love talking about self-care. At the same time, I understand why people are sick of being told to take a bubble bath or go for a walk when they’re worried about paying rent. (I do think social connection is always .)

Melt your stress away with

A Problem of Self-Determination

My favorite psychological needs theory—doesn’t everyone have one?—is self-determination theory. SDT posits that humans have three basic psychological needs: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. Unlike Maslow’s hierarchy, there is a boatload of research demonstrating how meeting those fundamental needs, or not, affects motivation and well-being.

It seems to me that most common coping strategies address competence (developing mastery) or relatedness (connecting to others). However, loss of autonomy—the freedom to control our own actions—is undoubtedly a primary reason we’re struggling.

The problem is, there’s not much we can do about that. The best option is to focus on controlling the things we can control and accepting those we can’t (major serenity prayer vibes, here). I’m not suggesting that we should be reasserting our autonomy by flouting the rules and doing whatever we want, virus be damned. No, the point is to understand why things still feel hard even when we’re trying our best to practice self-care so that we might give ourselves grace.

Questions I’m asking myself:

Am I meeting myself where I’m at, or am I using generic coping strategies that, while well-meaning, aren’t really what I need?

Am I blaming myself or feeling guilty for struggling, instead of accepting that the pandemic is hard in ways that are hard to cope with directly?

What Can We Learn from People Who are Doing Well?

I’m fascinated by people who are actually doing better now than before. Some kids are thriving , free from the social and academic pressures of traditional schooling. Lots of adults are realizing that they are happier and more productive working from home.

Getting back to the topic of this post, when I started to dig into the data on how the pandemic is affecting relationships, I expected to find dire news. I didn’t. While it’s logistically harder to see friends or travel to visit distant relatives, many people have seen their close relationships improve.

FThe Behavioural Science and Health Research Department at University College London is conducting weekly surveys looking at the psychological response to the pandemic, along with other socioemotional and behavioral variables. More than 90,000 people have responded. As of writing, data are available for the first 23 weeks .

In July, week 16, the researchers asked about relationships. The majority of respondents said the pandemic had not changed their relationships with spouses, friends, family members, or coworkers. More people felt that their friendships had suffered since the beginning of the pandemic, compared to the number whose friendships improved—22 versus 15 percent of respondents, respectively. The data were similar for coworkers. However, relationships with some family members and neighbors were more likely to have improved:

27 percent said their romantic relationship got better, while 18 percent felt it was worse

35 percent reported their relationship with children living at home had improved, versus 17 percent who said it had suffered

26 percent had better relationships with neighbors, versus 8 percent worse

I really wish there was more attention to being paid to those people. Why are they doing better? What’s their secret? It must have something to do with the time we have to invest differently in relationships now, but is there more to it than that? Academics are going to be writing about this for decades, I’m sure.

Shaping a “New Normal”

Since we have no choice about living through a pandemic, I hope we can at least learn from it.

When we go back to “normal,” it won’t be—and shouldn’t be—the normal we knew before. The ways people are suffering and thriving both offer important lessons about human nature, our ability to cope, and the ways we do and do not support one another effectively. That some people are doing better during an arguably terrible time is telling. It says a lot about the challenges and shortcomings of our pre-pandemic way of life.

The question is, will we heed the lessons?

What about you—how are you doing, really? Will you go back to “business as usual,” or have you gained any insights from the past six months that will change how you approach things in the future?

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[marsnmango]

Things that take me out of fanfiction (as a fanfiction writer)

Aside from the obvious (poor grammar, formatting errors, etc.) these are a few of the things that make me pause and reconsider whether or not I really want to continue reading the thing that I am reading. 

Mis-characterizations; it’s impossible to know with 100% certainty how a character is going to react in all scenarios, but some things are tough to overlook. Characters that are incredibly strong struggling with a weak enemy, for example- that sort of thing can be done, but you’d better set up the context correctly. Or it can throw (me) your reader off. If there’s a reason why your character’s behavior is diverging from what is canonically accurate, explain it! Don’t be afraid to just straight up say it. People (including myself) like to know what they’re in for when they start a fic. 

Inaccuracy. Now it is fiction, so lots of liberties can be taken with this, but if you cannot adequately describe something that your character should know how to do... it’s going to stand out. For example, if your character is a working adult, but you are not, and you do not know how to go to the bank and get cash out of it... Maybe avoid writing that specific scenario. Write around it. Describe it vaguely. 

Politics. You can tackle real issues through writing, if you know how to do it and can do it well. But please, please do not have one character mention [Real world (usually American) political figure] and have everyone else in the scene unanimously agree and rip on that political figure. Unless it’s something completely in-character and reasonable for everyone involved... Even if I agree with everything being said, it’s just annoying. 

Poor/Unrealistic Dialogue. Colloquialism is something that is naturally ingrained in every culture, but please try to keep in mind the differences in a conversation between 2 thirty year olds and 2 teenagers. When I read a story featuring a supposed adult, who speaks as if he is a freshman in high school giving a power point presentation for the first time... it’s. weird

Memes. That’s right, I said memes. I love memelords just as much as the next guy, but unless it’s a story that is very clearly focused on something that would involve that subject matter, I don’t want memes. First of all, fanfiction becomes outdated, fast. A Damn Daniel meme is going to 1. date your story and 2. completely throw me for a loop in your story that is based in Ancient Egypt. The 2 second chuckle from a handful of readers is not worth it. 

Non-existent/Unrealistic Consequences. Problems do not magically go away overnight. In order to avoid leaving any loose ends, list off the primary list of problems that your protagonists are going through. Then when you write the conclusion, double check that it eliminates or addresses each of these problems; whether or not they’re going to persist after the story ends or whatever else the deal might be. If a character struggles with addiction (for example)--make sure the conclusion mentions something about how the character is going to handle (or has handled) this problem. 

Handling tough subject matter lazily. This is tricky for anyone, but if you have never experienced a traumatic situation, but your intention is to portray this situation as realistically as possible... do some research. If it’s a little outside of the realm of reality (parents murdered by shark wolves), research the stages of grief. How people within your protagonist’s age group cope with it and how they don’t, and whether or not your Granted, not all fanfiction strives to be as accurate as possible when it comes to trauma. Some people just genuinely love to torment the hell out of characters they like, and that’s fine- just preface it in the tags or summary. Trigger warnings help as well, that way people know to avoid reading about things that may draw overwhelming or unpleasant feelings. Or a past trauma, worst case scenario. 

Inconsistency. Your dragon-queen alpha wizard raven way had the regeneration ability 3 chapters ago, but now that she lost her hand it’s suddenly the end of the world? If this is the case, there needs to be a reason why it is true this time but wasn’t every other time. You can bend the rules, but make sure there’s a reason (even a ham-fisted one) why they’re being bent. 

Poor/Lazy Characterization. This sort of goes hand-in-hand with inconsistency. If a character is an asshole, who is proudly an asshole and nothing but an asshole... he’s not going to tip his waitress? He’s not going to internally monologue about how the servers work hard and deserve to be paid well, unless he is genuinely a decent person on the inside. Even if the author does this in an attempt to allude to the fact that he is going to become a better person later on, there are better ways to go about it. Your asshole-character would likely be more subtle in his approach, or use misdirection. Throwing a crumpled up $1 bill at a waitress is far more likely and expected of bratty/asshole behavior... “But at least they left a tip?” Not-so-Slow Burns. If you sign up for a slow burn, it might be helpful to focus on the slice-of-life behavior and how the characters gradually get closer throughout. If you rush straight into the romance, it’s not a very slow burn. They don’t generally start feeling doki-doki true love by the third total encounter they’ve ever had in their entire lives. Sometimes, maybe. But handle with care, and keep in mind that people need time to change. If they’re refraining from a relationship or whatever because MC 1 is anti-humanity, your MC isn’t going to become a people-loving pope overnight. A timeskip might help you out there, but it’s risky if it’s unexpected or random. I AM NOT THE FUN POLICE. In the end, even if you borrow the characters- your story is your story. I’ve done almost every single thing on this list, some things more frequently than others depending on the nature of my story. You are allowed to do whatever you want and have as much fun as you want. I’m offering this list mostly to the people who want to receive feedback, because I’ve been there. You’ve finally got your grammar down. You’re working on your vocabulary and formatting and yet..... you still don’t feel any growth or significant change in your audience. It can be frustrating. Making a note of these things and how often you do them will help you to gain a more enthusiastic audience about your work. People like to read fanfiction that feels as though it could stand on its own. This is especially helpful for those fanfiction authors who want to publish their own novels someday.  Also, not all of this falls on the responsibility of the author. If an author consistently updates their tags/summary/notes, etc, then there’s no reason that a reader should walk into a Slow-Burn and expect hasty passionate smut in chapter 2. Or read a story titled “THE GORE OF WAR” and complain about...y’know, gore. Most readers tend to have a pretty good grasp on what the atmosphere of a story is going to by the first paragraph. And the atmosphere may change over time, which is fine! Just keep your readers in mind before your lollipops & sunshine rom-com becomes a last minute zombie apocalypse. Maybe make a note of that in the notes; give people a chance to bail, and trust me, you want them to bail. 1 more hit on your work isn’t worth the 3-paged flame you’re about to receive.  Above all, just have fun and keep writing. The more you write and the more willing you are to constantly adapt to feedback/growth, the better your work is going to become! Nobody starts off writing like R.R. Martin. He probably started off with really shitty star trek slash.