#fucked up my sleep schedule last night so I already Feel Bad and Don't Have Time Today

[mira--mira]

I am in the hole of writing and I am not having a good time.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Humble request for a bottom villain x top hero where the villain struggles with insomnia, and out of desperation (and mayhaps horniness), suggests that the hero “help” them fall asleep, if you catch my drift ;) An extra helping of spice with that, thank ye!

“When did it start?” the hero asked. They took off the villain’s shirt and pressed a wet kiss to the villain’s neck.

They could be quite straightforward when they wanted to be. The villain welcomed the candor, they found it quite refreshing when the hero told them a plan was full of logical errors or that the villain’s actions were unacceptable.

“Like…” The villain tried to think but it was getting more difficult with the hero levelling their weight on the villain’s hips and leaving a path of kisses up their neck. “…fuck, I don’t know. Like, two months ago?”

The hero paused with the kisses and looked at the villain with a hint of a frown on their face.

“Two months?” they asked. The villain could see their chest heave rhythmically and it was, stupidly, demanding a little too much attention.

“Yeah…”

“Help me with your pants, will you?”

“Oh—okay—” The villain didn’t even have enough energy to be excited. They were exhausted but couldn’t sleep. At this point, they were used to turning and tossing in their bed. It was an actual punishment and although they believed they deserved this to some degree, it slowly began to turn into a cruel and violent thing.

A part of them had already lost all hope of getting a good night's sleep.

Headaches accompanied them all day. They couldn’t eat, they had troubles with their vision. They had tried most things the internet had told them to: physical activity, an optimised work schedule, balanced nourishment. Nothing had worked so far and they refused to see a doctor.

Once their pants were off, the villain felt even more incompetent than when they had suggested all of this.

“Are you nervous?” the hero asked and when the villain looked up at them, they looked quite concerned.

Hell, the hero could be so kind.

“I’m fine,” the villain lied.

“Do you have any preferences?” The hero touched the villain’s naked chest gently and instinctively, the villain took in a deep breath. They preferred to swallow their moans. That was pathetic to some degree but unfortunately, it had become a habit.

Sometimes, it was even astonishing to the villain how little their self-confidence was.

“I don’t think so, no…” It probably meant nothing to the hero. It was probably like a job to them or maybe they were even using the villain for their own benefits — the villain wasn’t sure and they were actually terrified this would turn out to be very painful.

But they were undeniably desperate. Desperate for something to actually work, desperate for rest that lasted more than two hours.

"To be clear, we are taking this very slow," the hero said. Their voice was soft, softer than it should have been.

"Hm?" the villain asked. They hadn't realized how hard their fingers were digging into the hero's waist.

"Well...it's our first time together, so we shouldn't rush it." The villain couldn't believe that the hero was actually blushing. Usually, figuring out the hero's true feelings was an entire puzzle game.

"But isn't quick and rough more, I don't know, appropriate for our relationship?" the villain asked. At least, that was what they had expected - something purely physical that had no other feelings attached.

The villain wouldn't have minded.

"Oh, I..." The hero scratched the back of their neck. "I actually thought it would be more helpful if it was a little more ardent. I mean, considering your condition, you really need to rest and I guess it could help your body more if you were actually really into it. And, uh...if, you know, we are more intimate, we could take our time to communicate more and you can tell me what you like and what you dislike and if we take it slow, you can really get used to it and...I'm gonna be honest, two months is really bad."

The villain stared at the hero, eyes wide. Were they actually losing their mind or had they just heard more words coming out of the hero's mouth than they had thought to be possible?

"Wait, are you saying you don't want to or you can't or...?" The villain blinked several times. God, it was so frustrating to be so slow with their thoughts.

The villain felt like they could actively tell whenever a brain cell of them died.

"No, darling, I..." The hero put their flat hand on the villain's naked chest, right where their heart was. The hero's fingers were so warm against their chest that it was actually very pleasant. "I knew you struggled but I didn't know this started two months ago. I could have helped you sooner. Two months is actually fucked up and I don't know if I can really help you."

"Oh..." The hero raised their hands, suddenly alarmed.

"Of course I will try but you should see a doctor nonetheless." They took the villain's hands and pressed soft kisses against the villain's knuckles. "Also, I don't want your money."

"Are you sure?" the villain whispered.

"Very sure." The hero bent over and pinned the villain's wrists above their head. There wasn't much space between them anymore, in fact, the villain's lips were nearly brushing against the hero's. And it seemed to the villain like their enemy was hesitating.

If the villain's brain had functioned properly, they would have probably come to a very convincing and quick explanation as for why the hero was acting like that. Blushing. Talking a lot. Hesitating.

But the villain had all the clues in front of them and couldn't connect them.

"Ready when you are," the villain said and the hero only nodded quickly.

It was quite different from what the villain was used to. They had never considered themselves to be a good lover. Most of their relationships had crashed like a car - quickly and painfully. Hence, they had rather told themselves to concentrate on themselves first.

But for some reason, the hero made them feel a little better about themselves. Their sweet and innocent kisses only slowly evolved into something more passionate and carnal.

A few times, the hero parted from them to moan the villain's name or to kiss their body.

And then, the villain couldn't really explain it, they actually got tired. They supposed it was the warmth and the intimacy. They supposed it was the hero's sweet voice and their kind words. For a while, they fought it. They tried to concentrate on the hero but it was getting more difficult by the second.

It was something so strange and foreign, yet so comforting that only for a second, the villain thought they had completely lost it. They managed to wrap their arms around the hero and reply with lazy kisses, even though the hero was doing most of the work.

For the first time, they felt truly at peace. It was quite impossible. They felt safe, they felt protected. It wasn't like they had been more stressed than usual or that they had felt unsafe at home.

But the hero who was gentle and kind really gave something within the villain the kind of solace that they didn't know they had needed.

The villain allowed themselves to close their eyes and relax for a second.

"Are you okay?" the hero whispered. They kissed the villain's forehead but the villain didn't open their eyes.

"Yeah...yeah, just...gimme a sec." The hero raked through their hair and that was the last thing the villain could recall.

[measuredingold]

pretty boy

authors note: hey 🫣 almost a year ago i posted my first bad omens fic onto ao3 called sweet boy and i thought… what better way to celebrate that than to write its sequel ? barely proofread so i apologize for any mistakes btw, getting back into the swing of writing “consistently” so i feel a bit rusty lol ! as always i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated. :-) sweet boy can be found here.

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 3k~

cw/tags: pwp ( porn without plot basically ), p in v ( wrap it up ), established relationship, dom/sub undertones ( sub noah ), 18+ minors do not interact

The faint hum of the television fills the room, volume so low you barely can register what's even being said. You don't mind though because your focus isn't even on whatever episode of The Office that's playing, instead it's focused on the boy laying beside you, long limbs tangled with your own. Legs tangled with yours, an arm draped over your tummy, and head against your chest, you couldn't give a flying fuck about Michael Scott at this very moment.

You hum to yourself, a happy little sound, as your fingers card through his hair, finger nails lightly scratching at his scalp. You feel his chest vibrate against your side, probably making the same happy sounds that you were, and if you could see Noah's face you're sure he's smiling to himself, eyes fluttering shut.

You can't remember the last time you got a moment like this with him, just able to laze around in bed with nowhere to be. Noah wasn't running around or locking himself in his studio - nothing scheduled, nothing due. It was nice to finally be able to breathe with him in your arms again, and it was nice to know he wasn't worried about something for the first time in weeks. Maybe even months.

You let your eyes slip shut as you bask in the moment, fingers never leaving the home they made in Noah's hair. It's almost noon, you think, and you had already eaten breakfast. Maybe a quick nap wouldn't hurt... then you could get up and make some lunch for the two of you, or maybe finish the laundry you started last night. Sleep doesn't come to you, though, because you feel Noah move beside you, lifting his head up to bury against the crook of your neck.

You think nothing of it, even when you feel the ghost of his lips against your skin. You sigh, a happy sound, and by instinct your fingers tug gently at his hair before letting your nails scratch at his scalp again. You feel him whine rather than hear it, feeling the vibrations against your skin as he continues to trail kisses up your neck. Your eyes flutter open at the first roll of his hips against your thigh, and heat swirls in your stomach.

Oh.

So, you’re definitely not about to take a nap.

You thought he had been asleep, and maybe he was on the brink, but you think your little tug woke him up. You gasp quietly when you feel his teeth graze the skin of your neck before another sloppy kiss is pressed there, his hips rolling into your thigh again. You can practically feel him growing harder with every roll, the sweats he's adorning leaving nothing up to the imagination.

With another scratch to his scalp, your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging much harder than you had moments prior. The force was enough to pull Noah's head back only slightly, inches away from your neck, and the sound he released was so delicious it had you shivering. He grinds against you again, this time with purpose, and you hear a faint hum of your name as he tries to press another kiss along the length of your neck.

"What is it, baby?" You mumble out, voice hoarse from barely speaking today.

Noah doesn't reply in words, instead lets out a few broken noises in response before attaching his lips back to your neck, another desperate roll of his hips against your thigh. You pull his head back again.

"Use your words, Noah."

It's been so long since you've shifted into this dynamic, usually Noah being the one to have the control recently. You loved that you were able to shift back and forth, because sometimes you needed him to be the one under you. Something shifts in his eyes as they widen and his tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth, still not saying a word.

You sigh, tugging at his hair once more. "Don't make me ask again."

"Just..." He finally manages to whine out, pupils dilating. "Miss you."

"I'm right here, baby."

"I know, but..." He groans, trying to bury his face back against your neck, hips rolling into your thigh again. "I miss you."

"Hm..." You hum as you card your fingers back through his hair, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him. Your stomach flips at his dilated pupils, big brown eyes staring at you with such need that you physically have to restrain yourself from surging forward and kissing him right then and there. "My poor baby. I can tell you miss me a lot, yeah?"

He nods, a bit too desperately, pressing himself against your thigh again. You bite down on your bottom lip to keep any noises of yours at bay.

"Yeah." He mumbles and his tongue darts out to slide over his bottom lip again, eyes watching you closely. "Miss you. Need you.”

For some reason those words strike a chord within you, your heart clenching beneath your chest at his confession. You couldn't help but get emotional sometimes whenever he gave this part of himself up to you, putting all his trust in your hands. There was a time where that was rare, and in your years spent together, you watched the walls he built around himself slowly come down. There was no better feeling in this world than having his trust, and you would never take it for granted.

You scratch at his scalp again and smile at the way his eyes flutter shut, body shuddering against yours. "You have me, sweet boy."

He whines again, a pathetic sound, and you take the chance to lean forward, lips pressing against his for the first time in hours. The last kiss you shared was innocent, early in the morning when you had made breakfast for the two of you - this was the complete opposite. It was full of need, Noah whimpering into your mouth as your free hand slid between your bodies, pressing against the front of his sweats. His hips cant forward, pressing into your touch, and you couldn't stop yourself from squeezing.

"Shit." He hissed against your lips and you took it upon yourself to slip your hand past the hem of sweats and boxers, letting your fingers wrap around his length.

"Oh." You gasp quietly once you have a firm hold on his cock, thumb brushing over the tip. "All for me?"

He nods quickly, lips brushing against yours as his hips roll into your fist. "Yes. You. All for you."

Pride swells up beneath your chest and your hand strokes up and down his cock a few times. The angle is awkward, and with a very displeased sound from the boy beside you, you let go for just a second to push him onto his back. You roll onto him with ease, hips pressed firmly against his aching cock. He arches up off the bed with a loud noise, and you take a moment to admire the way he looks beneath you.

Cheeks flushed, lips slick and bitten and parted beautifully, brown eyes hooded as he stared up at you. All fucked out, out of his head, and you've barely even started.

"Oh, look at you." You can't help but reach down, swiping your thumb over his bottom lip. "Aren't you just the prettiest thing, hm?"

He nods, a deep groan escaping him as your hips roll over his for a second time. His mouth follows your thumb and before you can pull it away, his lips part. You watch with widened eyes as his lips wrap around your digit, slipping into his mouth with ease and out of curiosity your thumb presses down against his tongue. You feel him hum around it, a delicious sound, and you press harder, further.

"Such a pretty boy... especially with your mouth full." You feel his cock twitch beneath you, the bounce having you sucking in a breath as your hips roll without much thought. "How do you want it, baby? My hands? My mouth?"

You're not sure how you're even making complete sentences, the feeling of his tongue circling around your thumb having your brain feeling like complete mush, but you push through it. This is about him. His brows furrowed and he shakes his head, hands coming up to grip your hips, grinding you down against him again. You gasp.

"Oh. Baby wants me to fuck him?" He nods, whatever noise that leaves him being muffled by your thumb. You slowly pull it away from his mouth, dragging it down his chin. "Words, Noah."

"Yes, please." He breathes out, voice already wrecked. "Please, please, please."

"Shhh." You hush him, grounding your hips into his one more time - nice and slow. "I got you. I'll give you what you want."

You don't waste any time after that, sitting up on your knees to tug your sleep shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. Noah groans beneath you and with the way his cock twitches under your hips you're sure he's more than pleased to see that you wore nothing else underneath. You grin down at him, admiring the way his skin flushed from his chest up to the tips of his ears before leaning down, pressing another kiss to his lips. It doesn’t last long until you're trailing your kisses down his body, trying to taste every part of him that you could.

This was about getting him out of his head and letting him continue to not worry about everything like he typically would. Sometimes when he was home he’d be… sort of a nightmare, fixated on the next song, the next tour, the next merch drop. You didn’t want that. You wanted him relaxed, without a care in the world in that pretty little head of his. Tomorrow he can go back to his worried self, but today… he’s yours, and you’re going to do everything in your power to have your boy feeling like putty once you’re finished with him.

Your fingers hook in the waistband of his sweats and boxers, not wanting to waste anymore time. He was squirming beneath you, becoming impatient, and you’re selfish enough to admit you can’t wait much longer to have him inside of you, either. The thought of his cock had heat shooting straight to your core, and you tugged at his sweats. He immediately got the hint, hips rising off the bed and he helped you shimmy them off his body, discarding them on the floor with the rest of your clothes.

“Pretty boy.” You gasped, eyes widening at the sight of his cock resting against his stomach. You subconsciously lick at your lips, the need for Noah growing more and more by the second, and your fingers hook into your own underwear, sliding them off with haste. “All mine?”

He nods, words being followed by a whine as his eyes watch you toss your underwear to the floor. “All yours.”

You smile in response but can’t help yourself from leaving forward, licking a stride up the base of his cock all the way to the tip. He shudders beneath you, especially when you place feather light kisses around his tip before crawling back up his body.

“Baby…” He groans, hands reaching for you.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice of me.” You giggle despite your apology, lips finding home against Noah’s yet again. “No more teasing, okay? No more. Promise.”

You pull back and sit up on your knees again, hips shifting over Noah’s. His cock twitches beneath you and you don’t stop the moan that falls from your lips. Your head drops to watch the way his cock slips between your soaked folds, tip nudging against your clit. He shudders again, hands gripping your hips to stop you.

“Wanna…” He takes a deep breath to collect himself, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Inside. Wanna be inside. I’ll come if you keep going.”

You giggle, a little breathless, and nod at his words. “Already so worked up? How cute.”

You lift your hips up just slightly as your fingers wrap around him, lining him up with your entrance. You caught his eyes just as you began to sink down on his cock and the sight was... everything. From the way his brows furrowed, his pretty lips parting as you slowly sink further and further, and then the way his body arches the second you bottom out. You gasp, the arch of his body pressing him deeper into you, and your eyes flutter shut at just how deep he was.

"Shit, Noah." You moan out, your current facade breaking for just a moment. “Always feel so fucking good, baby. Oh my god.”

You give yourself just a moment to adjust to his cock, no prep making the stretch burn slightly more than usual - still delicious all the same. With a sigh of pleasure, you rise and slowly drop, the slow drag of his cock making the both of you moan in unison. The hand that was on your hip slid up your body to the back of your neck, pulling you down to him. Your lips slide together messily as you roll your hips into his, picking up speed.

“Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.” He pants against your mouth, no longer kissing you, too consumed by the feeling of your pussy clenching around him.

You sit up again, resting your hands against his chest as you continue your relentless grinding, gasping every so often whenever Noah’s thrusts would meet your own. You knew he was close, so worked up and overwhelmed even before he had gotten inside you. A part of you wants to tease him, get him so close to the edge before stopping completely. You want to see him cry, feel him shake underneath you and hear him beg for you to keep going, but today wasn’t the day for that. No, your poor boy was already there, cock twitching inside you with every roll of your hips, and you weren’t that far behind him either.

“Baby.” He gasped out, fingers digging into your hips as you grounded into him. “Gonna… fuck, ‘m gonna…”

His words get stuck in his throat and you stare down at him in awe, truly captivated at how beautiful he looked beneath you. Skin flushed the perfect shade of pink, brows knitted together and mouth dropped open, the most delicious noises leaving him. You’re not even sure if he even knows what he’s saying at this point, too consumed by you and the way his cock feels buried inside your pussy. You grin lazily down at him, giving another slow, deep roll of your hips, nails digging into his chest.

“Yeah? Gonna what? Use your words, pretty boy.”

“Oh.” It’s a choked sound and you feel his cock twitch inside of you the exact time you clench around him, and you swear his grip on your hips will leave a bruise tomorrow. “Fuck. Gonna come, ‘m gonna come. Please, please, please, baby please.”

“You can come.” You sigh out in pleasure, never stopping the movement of your hips. “Fuck, yes, you can come. So good for me, baby.”

With a few more sporadic thrusts from Noah he stills with a choked sob, cock twitching while he spills inside of you. You moan at the feeling, body shuddering as he fills you up, and it almost pushes you over the edge. Almost. You sit up and let a hand slide to your center, middle and ring fingers rubbing against your aching clit as you continue to ride him. Your body slumps forward the second your orgasm crashes into you, burying your face into Noah’s shoulder as you cry out in ecstasy.

All that was left to be heard in your bedroom was the combination of both yours and Noah’s labored breathing. You stayed still for a moment, catching your breath, and smiled lazily to yourself when you felt his lips brush against the side of your head.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, voice low, and you could tell just how… gone he still truly was. “Needed that.”

“You’re welcome.” You reply just as tired, but your words get drowned out by the soft moan you let out when he shifts under you, reminding you of his now softening cock still buried inside.

“Fuck.” He whimpered next to your ear, obviously sensitive from you still wrapped around him, but made no effort to move just yet.

You pull back to finally stare at him, heat swirling in the pit of your stomach again at just his fucked out he looked. Eyes barely open, the happiest little smile on his lips, cheeks stained with tears that you must’ve missed during your climax. He whimpers again, pathetically at that, when you roll your hips and clench around him one last time, his body shaking under yours.

“Sorry, my love.” You mumble, sitting up fully and then reaching down to wild at his cheeks. “Just look so beautiful like this. Can’t help myself.”

You could easily take him again, and you knew he’d let you, especially with the way his cheeks flush at your compliment. He’d probably let you take him six more times if it meant not parting from you - when he got in this headspace all he ever wanted to be was closecloseclose. Though, instead, you rise on your knees and the two of you groan in unison when his cock slips from you, the mess between your legs becoming very apparent.

“Come on, shower time.”

It takes a second to finally get him out of the bed and into the bathroom, and you knew with the way his eyes were fluttering every five seconds you had about ten minutes before he’d pass out from exhaustion. You speed through the shower and before you know it, you’re back in bed with Noah’s face buried against your chest once again. This time sleep does find you both, and you nap into the afternoon with a grin on your lips and your boy in your arms.

[hopelesslyromanticgay]

An Americano Please PT. 7

Word Count : about 2K

TW: Percy🤮, mental health, and descriptions of malnourishment (not ED related) and smoking(not done by anyone in first person)

Jenna's POV (finally)

Oh my god she kissed me. She actually kissed me!

I can't believe I've known her for two weeks and I'm already down this bad. 

The walk home from Y/N's apartment isn't a bad one, just a few blocks away, so when I get to my complex, Percy, my other costar is waiting for me in the lobby.

"So, how was your walk with that girl?" he asks, implying so much with his tone.

"Really nice," I smile, unable to hide my excitement.

"Cool, cool. Emma tells me you all went for pizza together?"

"Yeah, we would have invited you but you were filming."

"Maybe you can take me there some other time. Anyhow, tell me about the walk?"

"Well if you really want all the details..." I start.

"I do," he interjects.

"She and I kissed," I confess, a blush rising in my cheeks.

"Congratulations," he says, his tone coming off a little forced. It's been pretty clear from the beginning that he has some form of feelings for me, but I've made it clear I'm not interested in anything more than friendship.

"Well..." I say awkwardly, "I'm gonna go up to my apartment, get those few hours of sleep."

God that was so awkward.

...

My wake-up alarm blares, causing me to jolt awake. 4:30 already?

I rub the sleep from my eyes, slowly making my way out of bed and into the shower.

My driver comes to pick me up at 5:15, there's no time to visit Y/N for coffee today.

I'm in the makeup trailer by 5:30, getting my hair done as soon as I arrive.

"Morning Jenna," Joy smiles from across the trailer.

"Hello," I wave.

"Percy tells me you had a lot of fun last night," Georgie winks from a few chairs over, his gorgon headdress being carefully placed on his head.

"He told you that?" my jaw drops in disbelief. Georgie nods. Wow Percy, That's really none of your business to share.

And look who it is, Percy Hynes White walks into the trailer.

"What the fuck Percy!" I exclaim, "you told them I kissed Y/N?"

"Jenna, I need you to sit still so we can get your eyeliner right," the makeup artist tells me.

"Okay, give me one second."

"Yeah, I told him, so?" he rolls his eyes

"Percy, it's my right to say who I kiss. Not yours."

"Well last I checked I had the right to freedom of speech," he retorts.

"Look, I don't want to start a fight, Percy," I say, trying to be calm, "but you can't do that again."

"Okay, fine," he sighs exasperatedly, "I won't go around telling people about your stupid barista girlfriend." He dramatically exits, slamming the door behind him. What a diva.

"To be clear, guys, she's not my girlfriend," I clarify.

"Not yet anyway," Georgie winks.

"Don't get my hopes up."

Every day of the week my schedule piles up more and more.

I have cello in between shoots, fencing after work, and archery with Percy every few days. 

It's Saturday already and I haven't seen Y/N once! I hope she doesn't think I'm ghosting her.

I just got onto set and immediately I'm rushed into the costume trailer to get into my fencing gear. It's such an action heavy day and I already feel so light headed. I want to tell the director that I can't do it. I know it will just absolutely destroy me, but before I can get a word out, I'm practically pulled onto set.

My breakfast of a small fruit salad churns in my stomach. I can't so much as focus for twenty seconds as the stunt choreographer starts to debrief us on the scene.

I look over at Joy, the person I'm fighting in this scene, she seems to be taking everything in perfectly.

My head starts to ache with dizziness.

"Jenna, are you okay?" the AD asks.

Say it's fine. Like you always do. Be easy to work with.

"I- I think I n-need to sit down," I stutter quietly. My legs practically give away the second a chair is brought over to me.

The on set nurse is quick to bring me a glass of water which I drink gratefully.

"Are you feeling nauseated, Jenna?" she asks me.

"No, just a little lightheaded," I force a smile.

"You look a tad pale, did you have breakfast this morning?" she inquires.

"Yeah, I had a fruit salad."

"Is that what you have every day?" she asks.

"More or less," I answer truthfully.

"That's not nearly enough protein and nutrients for someone with a schedule like yours. Do you ever have eggs?"

"No, I'm a vegan," I explain.

"Oh right, well in that case you need to find a way to get more protein and iron or else it's only going to get worse," she tells me.

"O-okay," I say. God Jenna, you've really messed up this time.

"You should go home and get some rest, I'll get the producers to move your cello class to tomorrow."

"No!" I exclaim, "I need to do this!"

"Jenna, I can't let you do this today. You need to rest and recover."

"No, I need to be on set!" What kind of lead in a show DOESN'T show up to set when she needs to be there. What kind of person does this make me?

"Jenna, you need to rest. How about a compromise, you can do your cello lesson, but you need to go back to your apartment and get rest."

"Fine," I sigh, disappointed in myself.

"Do you have anyone who can take you home?" she asks, "all of our drivers are on break right now."

"No," I say half heartedly. I could ask Y/N, but I don't want to burden her. I don't want to burden anyone.

"Okay, let's get you to your trailer and you can lie down there for now." I nod cautiously. Standing up is worse than usual. Immediately, I can feel myself getting dizzy.

We walk back to my trailer, I find myself lying down on the couch. My head spins with worry What if production is delayed because of me?

I hear a knock on my trailer door, "Hey Jenna, it's me, Emma.

"Come in," I say happily. I love being around Emma. She's such a positive person.

"Joy says you're not feeling too good."

"Yeah, I guess," I say.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she sits down next to me, "you wanna talk?"

"It's just a lot," I confess, "all of these classes, and shoots, and work in general. It's just so much. And now I have to change what I'm eating because apparently I'm not getting enough nutrients!" Tears start to fall down my face.

"Hey, I've got you," she soothes me, stroking my hair, "it's gonna be okay."

It's about then that I slowly fall asleep.

Y/N's POV:

God, I hope I didn't fuck up with Jenna. The last time I was Tuesday night when we kissed. I haven't even gotten a text since.

I'm scared, what if she doesn't like me anymore?

"What's got you so upset? " Nessa asks between drags on her cigarette. I cough on the smoke coming from it.

"I just wish I could talk to Jenna," I admit.

"Man, just chill, it's normal to go a few days without talking to someone."

"Yeah, but normally if the last interaction was a kiss, it means that relationship is over," I point out.

"Just chill out, okay, acting's like, a hard job."

"Fine," I say, getting up, "I'm gonna drive home. See ya tomorrow."

The walk from the coffee shop to my car is less than two minutes. I only drove to work today because I was coming from Nessa's apartment and didn't want to leave my car there.

As soon as I get into the driver's seat, my phone starts to buzz with a call from a number I haven't seen before. Curious, I decide to pick up.

"Hello, is this Y/N?" the voice behind the phone asks.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Hi! This is Emma from Tuesday night, Jenna's not feeling well today, and I was wondering if you could drive her home from set?"

"Shit, is she okay?" I inquire. Fuck, I hope everything is alright!

"She'll be fine," Emma assures me, "can you drive her?"

"Sure, is she okay with that?"

"In all honesty, she's asleep right now and I found your number on a piece of paper on her counter."

"Isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"Shut up, I was doing what I thought was right."

"Okay, fine, I'll come pick her up, but I don't want her to be surprised to see me."

"Deal." I hang up the phone. This day just got a lot more interesting.

I pull up to set about thirty minutes later to see Jenna and Emma waiting for me. I can see immediately what Emma meant by Jenna not feeling well.

There were heavy bags under her eyes, but the rest of her skin was so much paler than usual. I could see her twitching a bit, and it seemed like she was struggling to stay alert. Seeing her like this immediately replaces any resentment I may have had for her for avoiding me with pure concern.

"Hey there," I roll down the window to talk to them.

"Thank you so much for coming," Jenna says, smiling weakly.

"Here, let me help you into the car," I say gently, getting out to open the passenger seat door for her.

"I'll let you two be on your merry way then," Emma says cheerfully, "Feel better, Jenna." Leaving me and Jenna alone in the car together.

The silence between us is anything but comfortable. The radio went to static from low signal, and neither of us know what to say.

After a painfully awkward twenty five minutes, we pull up next to her apartment. 

"Can you help me up?" she asks, clearly a little embarrassed. I smile, and offer her a hand which she gratefully takes.

"Thank you so much, I don't know how I can repay you."

"Consider it a random act of kindness." She laughs a little.

The two of us walk to the elevator quietly, not really knowing what we could possibly say.

"So what's got you feeling so sick?" I ask curiously.

"Not getting enough protein, I guess."

"Oh that makes sense. Film sets probably don't have the best vegan options."

"On that, we can agree," she laughs weakly. The door flies open, revealing Jenna's apartment floor. I've never been in her place before.

"I'm right down the hall," she directs me.

I nod, and start walking with her.

She quickly disappears into her room to put on some more comfortable clothes, coming out in sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

"Here, let's get you some food," I say, bringing her a pb&j sandwich, "I know its not a gourmet meal or anything, but peanut butter's really good for you."

"Thank you so much," she smiles, "I don't deserve you."

"Hey, don't say that," I say. 

"But I don'ttt," she whines, "I don't talk to you for days after kissing you and yet you come to take care of me as soon as you hear I'm not doing too good!" 

"Jenna, please just eat your sandwich," I laugh, "we can talk about it when you're doing better."

She nods, "okay."

A few minutes later, she's done with the sandwich, and I can tell she's getting tired.

"Hey, do you wanna try to get some rest?" I suggest. She nods quietly.

I help her up from the couch, and guide her to her room.

She goes to the bed to lie down, pulling the covers over herself to stay warm

I turn to leave, my plan is to go home, but it's quickly thwarted.

"Can you stay?" she pleads, "I don't want to be alone."

"Sure," I smile, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed. She slowly repositions herself to be cuddled up to my side, laying her head in my lap.

"Good night, Y/N/N," she says softly.

"Good night," I smile, kissing her forehead. 

I can see her vibrantly blushing in the dim light of her room. She's just so insanely cute.

I run my fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her. It doesn't take long before she fully falls asleep.

The two of us are gonna have a lot to talk about when she wakes up.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Welcome to Your New Unlife

Shadow City AU - Chapter One?

A JSE Fanfic

You all voted on the poll for this, so here you go! I wasn't able to finish this week's PNPT AU chapter, but I've had this sitting in my WIPs for a while. Shadow City is an urban fantasy AU where the septic egos are all various supernatural creatures, hiding right under the noses of the everyday people of the city Scuabyrg. Chase is new to this, having just woken up one morning as a ghost. Jackie, Schneep, and Marvin are all friends, being a werewolf, vampire, and witch respectively. And JJ is new in town, moving in along with a mysterious roommate.

It's important to note that I am NOT READY to start posting this AU regularly. Though I've been working on it on and off for a while, I have not really gotten that far, and I'm not really able to fit it into my schedule. I guess I COULD add it into the rotation so I write five AUs at a time instead of four? But quite frankly, I don't want to do that XD There's already a long delay between chapters of my weekly AUs as it is. Maybe if you guys want it, I can post this AU sporadically? When I get to it? Who knows? I just hope you enjoy this 10k word preview, I guess XD

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Chase opened his eyes to a killer headache.

He groaned and closed his eyes once more, pressing his hands to either side of his head. He must have had too much to drink again last night. He rolled over, expecting to feel his mattress or the sofa cushions shift under him... but the surface he was lying on was harder than that. Did he fall asleep on the floor? That was a new low.

It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t alone. There were voices around him.

The headache was already fading, but it still took some effort for him to open his eyes again and look around. He was, indeed, lying on the floor of his living room. Specifically, underneath the front window, pressed up against the blue-wallpapered wall. The floor was carpeted, but the short beige carpet wasn’t exactly soft. Not a good place to sleep. But that was the least of his concerns now, as he saw three strangers wandering around the room. “Hey!” he shouted, sitting up. “What the hell are you doing?!”

The strangers didn’t respond to him. Two of them were talking, standing between the coffee table and his TV stand. The third one was looking down at the brown sofa. He saw her pick up an empty bottle from the end table with a gloved hand and look it over. They weren’t trying to be subtle or careful about any of this. They were clearly visible in the sunlight coming from the open window. Were they robbing him? Who robbed someone in the middle of the day?!

“I asked you what the hell you were doing!” Chase snapped. He climbed to his feet—or tried to, at least. He felt... weirdly floaty. His arms and legs weren’t responding like they should. But he pushed through that and got up. “This is my house and I didn’t fucking let you in! Get out before I call the cops!”

They weren’t even phased by his shouting. Chase felt a spike of fear and panic, and his eyes darted around, looking for his phone. He left it on the coffee table last night... last he knew. He didn’t actually remember... a lot of last night. He didn’t drink that much, did he?

Whatever. His phone wasn’t on the table. But he knew that this house he rented came with a landline in the kitchen. Too bad the archway to the kitchen was through the weird guys in his living room. Chase hesitated, trying to plot a way through them, scanning the living room.

...something was wrong with the sunlight.

He frowned, unsure what it was. Curious, he raised his hand and waved it, staring at the ground to see if his shadow was weird or something.

...

In a way, he was right.

Because his shadow... wasn’t there at all.

Chase stared at the ground. He leaned side to side, hoping that maybe this was just the hangover messing with his vision or something. But... no, he didn’t have a shadow.

“Wh-what?” He breathed, a disbelieving laugh tracing the word. This couldn’t be right. He turned around to look out the window, having the absurd thought that someone was playing a trick on him with a special kind of light.

Outside the window, the small front garden of his house was overrun with more strangers. But... not just any strangers. Some of them were wearing familiar uniforms. And there was a big white van with sirens and open back doors—an ambulance. There was an ambulance outside, accompanied by paramedics and police. All outside his house.

He stared at them for a moment, then turned to look at the strangers in his room again. For the first time, he really took in what they were talking about. “Well if there’s no sign of a break-in, it’s pretty clear what it was, don’t you think?” one of them was saying.

Another one sighed. “Yeah. But it’s just... you want it to be anything else, don’t you?”

“What’s going on?” Chase asked. “Wh-what are you talking about? I-is someone hurt?!” His eyes darted around the room again, looking for something out of the ordinary—

There was a stain on the ground.

To his left. There was a stain on the ground.

A rusty red-brown splatter, partially covering the wall as well.

Blood.

Chase suddenly felt very cold. “What... what’s happening?” he whispered. He looked up at the strangers. They must have been more police officers—or detectives, maybe, since they weren’t in uniform. The two were carrying on with their conversation. The third was standing up and heading down the hallway. Completely unbothered. Like they... hadn’t seen or heard him at all... 

The cold feeling deepened.

“I-I... I-if you aren’t going to answer me, then—then I-I’m leaving!” Chase announced. He headed to the nearby front door, reaching for the doorknob—

His hand passed right through it.

He stared at the doorknob, not comprehending what just happened. Slowly, he reached out again, as if he thought that going slower would help. But... no. His hand passed through it again.

He looked at his hand. It looked normal to him. Maybe a bit pale? He took a deep breath...

Or... he tried to. His chest rose and fell, but he felt no air pass through his nose. Or through his mouth, when he tried again.

He wasn’t breathing.

He didn’t have a shadow.

People couldn’t see or hear him.

And his hand passed right through things.

Was he...?

No. No, this had to be a dream! A nightmare! Panicking, he ran right at the door—and as suspected, he passed right through the wood and ended up outside.

It was a sunny day. It was near the end of summer, before the chill of autumn started to set in.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky to block the sun from beating down. And there was no wind rustling the clothes and hair of the people outside.

But he couldn’t feel the heat.

In a daze, he moved forward, weaving around the police. He moved towards the ambulance. Towards its open doors.

Inside was a black bag.

“Oh god...” Chase whispered. He backed up again. “F-fuck.” His chest was rising and falling quickly, but it was just a habit, he didn’t feel the air, he didn’t feel the breath—He ran his hand through his hair. He could feel that fine! And... he could feel something on the side of his head. Something he didn’t notice when he opened his eyes earlier.

The spot where his head hurt... it was sticky.

Chase felt his head, to make sure that this was what he thought it was. A sticky, slightly warm spot on either side of his head. His head didn’t hurt anymore, but—fuck, was this what caused it?!

His eyes darted around, looking for something, anything, to explain why this was happening. Did someone break into his house?! Attack him in his sleep?! Was anyone else in the neighborhood hurt, or was it just him?! He couldn’t see any answers to these questions. But... he could see someone looking at him.

Chase stared back at this stranger. He moved back and forth slightly, to be sure that the stranger was looking at him—which he was, as his eyes darted to follow Chase’s motion. This stranger was wearing a blue jacket, which was identical to the blue jackets that some of the other people around were wearing. A uniform? The stranger’s hair was brown, pulled back in a small manbun, and he had a beard that was thick but not too long. As Chase stared back at him, the stranger subtly jerked his head to the side, then walked that way. Did he want Chase to follow him?

He was hesitant at first, but what else was he supposed to do now? This guy was the only person who could see him so far. Maybe he had answers. Chase headed after him.

The stranger had ducked around the corner of the house, leaning by the iron fence that separated it from the neighbor. Now that Chase was closer, he could see the words SPDFI written in yellow on the jacket’s lapel. ‘SPD’... That probably stood for Scuabyrg Police Department—Scuabyrg being the city that Chase lived in, the city they were in right now. What did ‘FI’ stand for, though?

“Well, uh... hey,” the stranger said.

“Can you see me?” Chase blurted out.

The stranger laughed. “Yeah, I can. And hear you, too.” He smiled a bit. “I’m Jack McLoughlin. I work for Forensic Investigation. We’re the people who investigate crime scenes.”

Ah, so that’s what ‘FI’ stood for. “So... why are you... Wh-why can you see me?” Chase whispered. “When I’m... A-am I... Am I... dead?”

Jack’s smile fell and he became serious again. “I... want to be sensitive about this. But... yeah. You are.”

Chase didn’t say anything. He stared at Jack blankly.

“Take a moment to process it,” Jack said gently. “It’s... obviously it’s a lot. You’re probably overwhelmed. That’s okay.”

“I-I don’t... understand,” Chase whispered. “What happened to me?”

“...do you want me to be blunt and tell you?” Jack asked.

“Yeah.”

“Brace yourself, okay?” Jack paused for a moment. “You got shot in the head.”

“I figured that out,” Chase dismissed. He tapped the side of his head. “I felt the spot. But—why?!”

“Uh... well, from what I’ve overheard, they think...” Jack coughed awkwardly.

“Someone killed me?”

“No, uh, not someone... else.”

Chase stared. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach—or... the spot where his stomach would be, if he had a body. “They think that... it was self-inflicted?”

“Well, uh... if you’re so surprised, they’re probably wrong,” Jack said slowly.

“Y-yeah of course I am! I mean, I’m not—I wouldn’t say I never—But not while my—holy shit my family!” Chase gasped. “They’re going to—oh my god, I—Declan’s going to—Stacy—”

“Please try to calm down.” Jack’s voice was steady. “Focus on the world around you. You are here. This is real.”

Chase took a few more deep “breaths.” Even though it didn’t do anything, the motion was comforting. “I—I didn’t want—I mean, does anyone really want—”

“We’re going to take this slowly,” Jack continued. “One thing at a time. This is a massive change, but it will be okay.”

“Okay?! I’m dead!”

“But you’re still around. That means you still have stuff to do here.”

Chase pressed a hand to his chest. He could feel it. He could feel that. Jack was right, he was still here. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.” He nodded, then gave Jack another look. “So... You see dead people?”

Jack cracked a smile. “Yeah. I have a gift for it. A sixth sense, ESP, whatever you want to call it. Been that way all my life, so I’m used to it. I know a lot about ghosts and all that.”

“Okay... so... ghosts are real,” Chase stated. “People... really do become ghosts when they die.”

“Oh, not everyone,” Jack said. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“If you have unfinished business. People who die with big regrets, people who were in the middle of something, people who had one last thing they wanted to do... those guys become ghosts. It’s why I went into CSI and forensics and stuff. People who die in accidents or, uh... murders... a-are more likely to have that tether that keeps them to this side.” Jack tilted his head. “So... Do you know what your business is? It’s okay if you don’t. Not all ghosts do.”

“I...” Chase paused. “I... don’t know. I... Maybe it’s my family.”

“That would make sense,” Jack said slowly. “What’s your family like?”

“I-I have a wife, Stacy—well, um, technically she’s my ex-wife. We... finalized our divorce recently.” Chase winced just remembering it. “But, um, we don’t hate each other! We just... thought it was better this way. I-it was mostly her idea. And I guess I don’t blame her, I... I think I was a good dad, but maybe not a good, uh, homemaker. Anyway, yeah, uh, I-I also have a son. Declan. H-he’s ten.” He smiled slightly. “My little ball of sunshine.” The smile faded. “I would never... I-I wouldn’t leave him. Never.”

Jack nodded sympathetically. “I believe you. I guess... I guess that things aren’t what they look like in there. Someone must’ve framed it as a suicide.”

“But who the fuck would want to kill me?” Chase asked. “I’m a nobody! I’m a wannabe streamer, there’s no reason to sneak into my house and murder me!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know.” Jack shook his head. “Um... what’s your name, by the way? I should’ve asked you earlier.”

Chase laughed. “Oh, I didn’t even realize you hadn’t asked. I’m Chase. Chase Brody. Sometimes called BroAverage online, but there’s only a handful of people who’d know me as that, I bet.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Chase.” Jack smiled. “I’d like to help you get used to all this.”

“Get used to being a ghost?” Chase repeated doubtfully.

“People can get used to anything,” Jack said. “But it’s not just that. Now that you’re a ghost... well, you might want to know that there’s more to the world than you think.”

Chase blinked in surprise—realizing that, like breathing, the motion was no longer instinctual. “What do you mean?”

“There are... more creatures in the world than you’d expect,” Jack said slowly. “Creatures of the night, they’re sometimes called. The shadow world.”

“You mean like... what?”

“Again, do you want me to be blunt?”

“Might as well.”

Jack shrugged. “Like witches and vampires and werewolves and zombies and—”

“WHAT?!” Chase shouted.

“You told me to be blunt,” Jack pointed out.

“Fucking vampires and werewolves exist?!” If Chase hadn’t woken up as a ghost, he wouldn’t have believed it.

“Yeah.” Jack glanced to the side. “But, uh, unfortunately, I’m not sure I have enough time to explain all that. We were about to clear up here when you Awoke. I-I can come back some other time to explain more, but for now, let me give you the basics of being a ghost.”

“Uh... okay.” The news about other supernatural creatures still hadn’t fully sunken in, so might as well move on.

“You’re still a, uh, ‘new’ ghost,” Jack said delicately. “So you won’t be able to go much farther than the spot you died. But you seem pretty aware, so you’ll probably get stronger real quick.”

“Can I... talk to people?” Chase asked. “Other than you, I mean. Like, you always hear about ghostly voices on those ghost hunter shows.”

Jack chuckled. “Ghost hunter shows aren’t all that reliable. But... yeah. Ghosts can speak, be seen, and touch things, but you need to concentrate to be able to do it.”

“Concentrate?”

“It’s all about intention. You usually don’t think much about being seen, cause it just happens. But as a ghost, you need to think about it. Put effort into it. Most ghosts find it easiest to concentrate on speaking, since, uh, when you’re talking you’re already kind of intending to be heard. So just do that, but more so. Manifesting and touching things are a bit more difficult.”

“Okay...” Chase said slowly. “I think I’m following.”

“Here, I think I have time for a demonstration.” Jack reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small sphere, about the size of a golf ball, made of cloudy glass. “Hold out your hand.”

Chase did so. Jack put his left hand under his—Chase realized he could see it through his own hand—and then used his right hand to drop the glass sphere towards Chase’s hand. It passed right through and landed in Jack’s hand instead. “Uh...”

“You gotta concentrate on catching the ball,” Jack said. “You’re just expecting to be able to stop it. That’s not enough. Actively think about touching the ball. Ready to try again?”

Chase nodded slowly. As Jack started to drop the sphere towards his hand again, Chase really thought about the sphere, imagining how it would feel when it hit his hand, his hand which was definitely really there—

The sphere landed in his palm. For a second, Chase could feel the smooth texture and weight of it. Then he startled in surprise and the sphere slipped through, into Jack’s hand beneath his. Jack grinned. “Hey, first try! That’s very good, not all ghosts can pass in the first ten tries.”

“H-ha. Thanks.” Chase smiled softly.

“Hey McLoughlin!” a voice shouted. “What’re you doing? We’re heading out!”

Jack winced. He looked at Chase apologetically. “Guess I gotta run. I’ll try to stop by as soon as I can. Sometime tomorrow, if possible, or the day after.”

“Oh. Yeah no, uh, go ahead.” Chase nodded.

“See you around, Chase,” Jack said, then turned and left.

“See you around,” Chase repeated, watching him go. He stared as the police, paramedic, and forensics guys all piled into cars that drove away. The last to go was the ambulance... the ambulance with his body.

Chase sat down on the ground. He looked down at himself. A gray shirt, jeans with holes in the knees, and plain white socks. That was what he had died in. This was what he would look like forever now. He could feel his favorite cap on his head, too. He started to reach up to take it off, but stopped. This wasn’t really his favorite cap. The same way these weren’t really his clothes, and this wasn’t really his body. What if the cap disappeared when he took it off? He didn’t want to lose it. After all... this was all he really had now, wasn’t it?

Fuck. He was dead. 

And yet... he was still here.

Chase looked up into the sky and watched the sun move gradually, letting it all sink in.

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Evening came, and the sun soon completely faded from the sky. The city lights turned on, filling the shadows with artificial brightness. For most everyday citizens, these were the quiet hours of the day. But for some, the city really came alive at night.

One such person was Jackie Sheach, who was walking through the downtown streets with complete confidence. Jackie wore his favorite red hoodie today, along with one of his many pairs of ripped jeans. His brown hair is messy, his face partially hidden by a dark beard, but his blue eyes seemed to shine in the darkness, like they were reflecting what little light there was. He was currently talking on the phone. “—No yeah I’ll be back before midnight, I promise,” he said.

“You better,” said a female voice on the other end. “You stay out way too late, Jackie. Your sleep schedule can’t handle it!”

“My sleep schedule?!” Jackie laughed. “Lily, c’mon. Do any of us have consistent sleep schedules? It’s kind of part of the whole thing, isn’t it?”

“We’re going to set a good example for Bryson,” Lily said firmly.

“The new guy?”

“Yep. You remember how it can be an adjustment. The least we can do is provide a solid foundation!”

“You sound like a youth leader,” Jackie commented.

“I might as well be a youth leader with all of you acting like children sometimes!” Lily said. “Do youth leaders even still exist? I haven’t seen any, like, youth hangout centers in years.”

“Who knows?” Jackie shrugged. “Anyway, yeah, I’ll be back by midnight. Schneep’s responsible, he’ll make sure I stick to my word. Speaking of which...” He could see his destination coming up. A hanging wooden sign with the image of a crescent moon and the words “The Harvest Moon” burned into it. The sign dangled over a plain wooden door, sandwiched between two businesses with flashing neon signs. It would have been so easy to miss it. “I’m here. Don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“See you later, Jackie,” Lily said.

“See you.”

The door to the Harvest Moon was plain, and there was no sign to say that the business was open. But there didn’t need to be. If you were here, you knew the hours. Jackie opened the door right up, revealing a staircase heading down. He walked down the twelve or so steps and arrived at a glass door that had the same moon logo as the sign. In front of the door was a Welcome mat. “Heeeere we are,” Jackie said to himself, pushing the door open. A chiming sound rang out—not a bell, more like soft wind chimes.

The Harvest Moon was a small establishment, its walls made of exposed red brick with pale wooden columns painted with some decals and covered in posters. Bar-shaped light bulbs dangled from wooden rafters. To the left and right, when walking in from the entrance, were long pale wooden tables and chairs, taking up most of the dining area. A bar was pressed against the far wall, and next to it was an open entrance leading to the wood-paneled hallway that led to the bathrooms and kitchen. Jackie could smell the mix of various pub dishes and alcoholic drinks in the air.

This time of night, the Harvest Moon was fairly empty, since it was still early for many of its patrons. Jackie walked past the tables, taking note of the few customers in here. There was a trio of younger, college-aged guys that he hadn’t seen in here before, talking casually over a plate of fries. Beneath the fried smell of the food, Jackie could pick up on a bright scent, clear and bringing to mind something that sparkled. There were two girls around Jackie’s own age, each nursing a fruity cocktail. One had the scent of ash and burning, while the other had a familiar sort of musk—though he knew she wasn’t part of Heartwoods, so maybe she was in some other pack. There was a person wearing a dramatic-looking black cloak in the corner, not eating anything. The scent coming from that direction was a mix of old books and freshly-mown grass.

And there was one more person sitting at the bar, checking a watch on his wrist. Jackie slid onto a stool next to him, recognizing the scent before he even recognized the person. Something salty, like an ocean breeze, but missing the undercurrent of blood and sweat that most creatures had. “Hey, Schneep. Sorry I’m late.”

The man turned to look at him. “I went to so much trouble to get here early just for you, you know,” he said with a scowl. He had a passing resemblance to Jackie, with his brown hair and blue eyes, but his hair and beard were much neater, his features slightly more angular. His skin had a slight gray tinge to it—just enough to notice. He wore a long black coat over a pale brown sweater and darker brown dress pants. “Do you know when I had to wake up? Sunset! And you are late?! I could have slept in.” His voice was tinged with a German accent.

“Yeahhh, sorry,” Jackie hissed. “I had a last-minute delivery I had to do. Who orders food at eight o’clock at night?”

“A lot of people I know,” Schneep muttered. “And not all of them walk in the shadows. Some of them are just night people. Did you get it there in time?”

“Uhhh... yeah?”

“Why is there a question mark at the end of that answer?”

“I mean, I got it there,” Jackie said. “But I thought it would’ve been faster to shift and run. Turns out it was not. Because people noticed and I had to take the long way to lose them.”

“Hmm.” Schneep reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up an app. “That explains this.” He showed Jackie his screen. On it was a blurry photo of some giant dog-like thing running across a city street with a bag in its mouth. The photo was clearly posted on social media.

Jackie groaned. “Lily is gonna kill me.”

A woman approached them from the other side of the bar, with dark skin and a head of black curls. She wore a green button-down shirt with short sleeves and a name tag, but Jackie had been here enough to recognize her face and her petrichor scent. “Welcome back again, you two,” she said. “The usual?”

“To start with, yeah,” Jackie said. “Thanks, Dolores.”

“Yes, thank you, Dolores,” Schneep said.

Dolores nodded and smiled and turned around. She pointed at several bottles on the shelves behind the bar, and they started to move on their own, pouring into cups and mixing together. A minute later, she turned back around and deposited a glass in front of each of them. Jackie’s was a lowball glass filled with a purple-blue drink, and Schneep’s was a martini glass with a red liquid inside. “Enjoy. Are we going all night or do you have work, doc?”

Schneep shook his head. “It is my night off.”

“I, uh, need to be back home by midnight,” Jackie mumbled. “I promised Lily. She wants everyone to start having consistent sleep schedules.”

Schneep raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it hard to get a consistent schedule with the moon situation?”

“That’s what I said!” Jackie took a drink from his glass. “But we have this new guy, Bryson. She wants us to be good examples for him.”

Dolores chuckled, leaning on the bar. “New guy? You make it sound like it’s a job.”

“Well I mean... it takes up as much time as a job does,” Jackie said slowly. “Technically?”

“It does not,” Schneep muttered.

Jackie nudged him.

“Do not be like that!” Schneep said. “It is true! A transformation like that is so much more than a job. It is a change in your lifestyle.” He took a sip of his own drink. “Well, ah... how is your new guy adjusting?”

“Better than most people do, to be honest,” Jackie said. “He says he had trouble making friends before so he’s grateful that we’re all being so friendly. His only complaint is that he’s not sure how to explain it to his mom.”

Schneep chuckled. “Well, that is a relatively small problem to have in the scheme of things.” Another drink. “He is lucky to have found your pack. You are good people.”

“Daww, really?” Jackie grinned.

“Really.” Schneep nodded. “Sometimes I wish we had packs, too.”

“Dude, nothing’s stopping you guys from forming one. They’re not special to wolves. Any group of close people is a pack. But it’s just not called that, it’s called a friend group or something. But if you want a cool name, you could call it a... uh...” Jackie hesitated. “What’s the word for a group of bats?” He took his phone out of his hoodie pocket to google it while Schneep and Dolores laughed.

Before he could open up his browser, though, a notification appeared on his screen. A text message from a contact named “Medium at Large,” in a group chat. Hey do you know driving directions to Marvins place?

Jackie made a face. Schneep leaned over to look at him. “Oh? Something happen?” He looked down at his own phone, having also received the same message in the same group chat. “Ah, I see. Jackie, you should not be so unkind to Marvin.”

“I’m not unkind to him,” Jackie growled—actually growled, a rumble deep in his throat. “I consider him a friend. I just... don’t trust the smell of his magic.” Witches, like Marvin, drew power from various sources. Dolores here was an earth witch, that group of college guys from earlier were probably star witches, that woman who smelled like ash was likely a fire witch, and so on. Plant witches, river witches, love witches, chaos witches—there were all sorts of sources for magic, and all of them smelled different to Jackie’s keen senses. He liked Marvin. He really did. But he’d never smelled another witch with a magic scent like that. Something sour, almost acidic. It was strange. And Marvin had never explained what it was.

“Mm-hmm. If you consider him a friend, you should trust that he knows what he’s doing,” Schneep said, narrowing his eyes.

“I do! I trust him. I don’t trust that magic.” Jackie sighed. “I just... hope everything is... okay with it.” He shook his head. “Anyway.” He sent a reply text to the chat. Sorry Jack. You know i dont drive.

Schneep also texted a reply. Didn’t you JUST get your license? 

Jack responded instantly. Yeah which is why I need the practice. Ill need to drive to Marvins place eventually, wont I?

Well I do not have a license at all, Schneep said. So I don’t drive. So I am no help. Look it up on your GPS.

Jackie chuckled. “How old are you? In all those ages, you haven’t learned to drive?”

“I am only forty-five!” Schneep snapped. “Don’t say I am an old man!” Despite claiming that was his age, he didn’t look much older than Jackie, who was thirty.

“That’s plenty of time to learn to drive.”

“So is thirty years!”

“Hey, I’ve gotten along enough with a bus pass,” Jackie said.

Dolores raised an eyebrow. “Might be easier to deliver food to people if you had a car, y’know.”

Jackie made a face at her.

Jack replied in the chat. Fine Ill use Maps. 

Whyre you going to marvin anyway? Jackie asked. Just a visit?

I think I found someone interesting at work today.Tell you two about it later.  I want Marvins help with something first.

Jackie raised an eyebrow. He glanced over at Schneep, who looked similarly intrigued. “It is probably a ghost, yes?” Schneep asked.

“Yeah, probably.” Jackie closed out of the texts and went back to his browser. A minute passed in silence. “Oh hey, apparently a group of bats is called a colony.”

Schneep burst into laughter.

The next few hours passed with idle chatter and more drinks. The Harvest Moon gradually filled up with people, and some more workers arrived to help with the nighttime rush. But true to his word, Jackie left before midnight... mostly because Schneep dragged him out, insisting that he had enough drinks for the night.

The two of them walked down the street towards the nearest bus stop. In most cities, the buses didn’t run this late at night. But Scuabyrg was different, with such a high population of... those who were awake in the darkness. There were enough everydays who knew about them to keep things running normally.

“No no no, III’m good t’walk, I can do it on m’own!” Jackie said, leaning heavily on Schneep. 

“Alright. Go on and do it, then.” Schneep stopped walking, pushing him off a bit.

Jackie took a few stumbling steps forward... and then stopped. “I think... I was wrong.”

Schneep grinned. “At least you’re sober enough to be aware of it.”

Jackie snorted and rolled his eyes. “You an’ yourrrr... vamp tolerance. Why don’ you guys get... get it easily? Y’know.”

“It can’t pass the blood barrier,” Schneep said, his face totally straight.

Jackie laughed. “Blood barrier, that’s funny.”

“No, I am being serious. Well, partly. We cannot digest or absorb most things easily, and that includes alcohol and other drugs...”

Jackie tuned out the scientific explanation that Schneep went on. Not intentionally. He just got distracted, thinking about how different Schneep looked after some drinks. His skin was more flushed, its gray tint basically gone. And his personal scent was overwhelmed by the smell of blood. Jackie inhaled, trying to smell that oceany scent...

And picked up on something else instead.

Jackie stiffened, trying to concentrate through the drinks clouding his thoughts. Where was that smell coming from? And what was it? It was... a being, of some kind. He could tell that much. Whoever it was, they smelled almost overwhelmingly of some chemical scent—like formaldehyde. That stuff that was used to preserve dead bodies. Jackie wrinkled his nose in disgust, looking around for the source of the scent... 

And then he looked up. And saw a figure crouched on the top of a lamp post. They tensed the moment he noticed them, and then lunged.

“Schneep!” Jackie shoved him to the side, just in time to avoid the figure. Schneep yelped in surprise, and Jackie whirled on the figure, who was moving so fast. He jumped at them and halfway through the jump, he shifted. In between one blink and the next, Jackie was no longer a human, but instead a giant wolf, his thick fur colored varying shades of brown. His teeth snapped at the figure, and probably would have bitten them—but the drinks still affected him in wolf form, and his sharp reactions were a bit too slow.

The figure tackled Schneep to the ground. He cried out, and reacted instinctively, biting onto the figure’s arm. The figure pulled back, leaving the light from the lamp post behind, and—and disappeared.

Jackie stared at the spot where they’d been in shock. Then he turned to Schneep. He whined, nudging him with his snout.

“I am alright, Jackie,” Schneep said, sitting up. Some blood coated his lips, and his fangs were now visible, elongated canines on the top and bottom row of his teeth.

Jackie tilted his head, ears twitching.

“I promise I am fine.” Schneep got to his feet, patting himself down... then froze. “Son of a bitch! That motherfucker stole my wallet!”

Jackie let out a series of barks that sounded similar to laughter.

“Hey, I had about fifty pounds in there, this is not funny!” Schneep said.

Jackie rolled his eyes, a human expression that looked so strange on his wolf form’s face. Who carried cash these days?

“Oh shut up,” Schneep said. He sighed. “At least we know something.” He wiped his mouth on his black coat sleeve. “That was probably another vampire who attacked me. One with a distinct bloodtaste. So, that means I will have to report petty theft to the Night Council. Great.”

Well. That was surprising. But it was getting closer and closer to midnight. Jackie continued walking to the bus stop.

“Change back, Jackie, even the night buses will balk at a giant wolf,” Schneep said.

Jackie shook his head. It was easier to walk on four legs when drunk than two.

“Jackie,” Schneep said in a warning voice.

Jackie broke into a loping run.

“Get back here!” Schneep shouted, running after him. “I am not going down as the man who got on the bus with a giant wolf!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was a slow night at the shop so far, just like most nights. Which was good. Marvin owned and ran Magnificent Magics by himself, if things got too busy here he’d have to hire more people, and that wasn’t in his nature. He knew where all his wares were, and had an exact way of organizing things that an employee might not follow. Though he did sometimes consider hiring someone to take care of the cats that showed up...

“Higgins, no.” Marvin picked up one of the cats in question, who was staring at a second cat with his tail flicking wildly. “Leave Fluffington alone.” Even though there were about five to eight cats in the shop at any point in time, he only actually owned two of them. Higgins was one, a round white cat with gray patches on his coat. The other was Sam, a black-and-orange tortoiseshell with big green eyes. She was upstairs right now, and not bothering the other cats. Marvin was not sure why so many cats showed up here. But he was happy to take care of them whenever they stopped by.

Sometimes he thought his shop was more like a cat cafe than an actual shop. But in reality, the only cat decorations were the trees in the corner of the rooms. The rest of the shop was a combination of a bookstore and a witch’s hut. Bookcases lined the walls, filled with all sorts of books. Paper cover, hard cover, leather cover. Various trinkets also sat on the shelves. Candles and crystals and bottles and incense and more. More things hung from the ceiling, mostly bundles of plants. There was a counter at the back of the room with more of these trinkets, and a cash register for purchases. Two doors sat in the wall behind the counter, one leading upstairs to Marvin’s apartment, the other leading to a bathroom/cat caretaking room. The main body of the shop was filled with small round tables, all covered with silky tablecloths in various jewel tones. Some of them had more books or trinkets, but some were empty, meant for the customers to sit at.

“Here you go.” Marvin sat Higgins down on the nearest chair, bending down to drop him on the cushion. Higgins started batting at Marvin’s hair that dangled around his face, and Marvin jerked backwards. “Come on, Higgins.” He pushed his hair back. “It’s not even that long.” The cats were the reason he kept his hair shorter than usual, and done in a half-up style. To minimize cats messing with it while still looking stylish.

As Marvin dealt with Higgins, another cat, Draco, hopped onto a table, climbed onto a stack of books, and used it as a springboard to jump to a bookshelf. The book stack toppled under the force of the jump.

“Hey!” Marvin whirled around, taking Draco off the shelves. “I know you like to be tall, but you have to be careful getting up there.” He put him on the floor, then gathered up the books that Draco knocked over.

As he restacked the books, he heard the shop door open behind him. “One moment!” he called, finishing up the stack before he turned around. He grinned. “How can I help you?”

The man who walked in was unfamiliar to Marvin. A new customer, how fun. He wore a fancier outfit: a white button-up shirt with frilly cuffs, over which was a blue vest with faint, darker blue patterns. There was a neat bow-tie around his neck, holding up a high collar. His dark brown hair was neat and straight, and he had a dark mustache that curled at the end. Blue eyes looked around the shop with curiosity. As Marvin observed this man, he noticed the gray tint to his skin. A vamp, for sure. Maybe one of the older ones, judging by the style he dressed in. 

After a moment of awkward silence, the man walked up to Marvin. He reached into his pocket and took out a small spiral notebook with a pattern of stars on the cover, as well as a pen. He wrote something down and showed it to Marvin. Hello. My apologies, but I am unable to speak. Can you tell me more about this shop?

“Oh! Alright.” Marvin nodded. He raised his hands and started to gesture: speaking in British Sign Language. Can you understand this? Do you want to speak this way?

The man looked surprised, then laughed silently. He set the notebook and pen down on the nearest table, and began to sign with a bit more flourish than Marvin did. I can hear you fine, you do not need to sign as well. But thank you for asking.

“No problem.” Marvin flashed a smile. “Ayway, uh, yeah, I can tell you about the shop. This is my place. We sell all sorts of magical supplies. Mostly stuff that’s useful for witches, I’m not sure if there’s much a vampire would find of use. Oh! But I do sell blood remover and potions.”

The man nodded. He wandered around the edge of the shop. Some of the cats walked up to sniff at him. He looked down at them and smiled a friendly, closed-lip smile. Most of them hissed and ran off, but Higgins kept sniffing him.

“Sorry, most of them aren’t vamp-trained,” Marvin said. “And, uh, Higgins isn’t for sale.”

They’re for sale? the man asked, interested.

“Only as pets,” Marvin said firmly. “I don’t do blood here.”

The man looked horrified at the implication.

“Oh, you’re offended! Good.” Marvin laughed. Vampires were tricky to deal with, morally, given their diet. “So you’re a blood bank person? Not an animal person?”

The man nodded. When possible. You know how it is.

“Hmm. I probably don’t. I haven’t lived like you have.”

I see. Well, sometimes there is... desperation, the man said. But I try to avoid that.

Marvin nodded slowly. 

May I have your name, sir? The man asked.

“I’m Marvin. Marvin Fletcher. I’m the owner.” Marvin gestured to himself. He was wearing one of his favorite outfits today. An open button-up short-sleeved shirt with an art nouveau flower design on it. Underneath was a sleeveless black turtleneck. He hoped that this was making a good impression on the new customer. “And you?”

The man picked up the notebook and pen again, writing down his name and showing it to Marvin. Jameson Jackson. Some people call me JJ.

“Alliteration! Nice.” Marvin grinned. “Let me know if you need anything, Mr. Jameson Jackson.”

Jameson nodded. He continued to look around the shop, taking an interest in some of the books. Marvin took care to have a lot of variety for purchase. A lot of them were spellbooks for witches, but there were also studies on magical creatures, histories of the shadow world, and some popular fictional stories set in the shadow world, just for fun. Jameson flipped through some of the books, reading the first couple pages or the blurb on the cover before putting them back.

The shop door soon opened again. “Marvin!” A man walked into the shop, wearing a black T-shirt and jacket. “I have something I—”

Jameson suddenly dropped the book he was looking at, staring at the newcomer in... what can only be described as surprise and fear.

“Hey, Jack,” Marvin said, then looked at Jameson. “Don’t worry about him. This is Jack, he’s a meddie, and a friend of mine.”

“Uh... hi,” Jack said slowly, looking at Jameson. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Jameson shook his head. He bent down and picked up the book he dropped, returning it to its place on the shelf. It’s alright, he said.

“Oh, BSL, huh? I’m not as fluent as Marv is, sorry.”

“He just said it’s alright,” Marvin translated.

“Yeah, I got that.”

“Well, anyway.” Marvin decided to move on. “What brings you to my shop now? I know this is regular hours for me, but it’s starting to get late for you.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “It’s only nine o’clock. I would’ve been here sooner, but I took some wrong turns.”

“Wait... did you drive here?” Marvin blinked. “I thought you still only had a permit.”

“Nope! I got my license on Tuesday, remember?” Jack beamed proudly.

“Ah. A whole three days ago. Good. Good good good.” Marvin nodded slowly. “Well, uh... what’s so important that you had to drive here?”

Jack walked over to a table at the back, talking as he went. “I had work today. Apparently there was a death down on Gold Sky Street, so you know, of course, I have to check it out.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Kind of a sad scene. The guy who lived there had probably been gone for a while, Jenkins estimates at least twelve hours, and nobody had realized he was gone until a solicitor came trying to sell stuff and saw the body through the window.”

“God,” Marvin muttered. He noticed Jameson listening in with curiosity, though Jameson was clearly trying to hide it. “So was his ghost there?”

“Yep.” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a cloudy glass sphere about the size of a golf ball. “And he was a pretty strong ghost. Full-body apparition without even trying. Knew right away he was gone and, uh, freaked out about it. Generally acted really alive.” He set the sphere on the table. “I did the touch test with him, too, and he got it right away.”

“Really?” Marvin tilted his head, curious. Jack had talked with him about the ghosts he sometimes encountered on his job before. Enough for Marvin to know that this was a very rare occurrence.

“Yeah, and something else weird. The guy didn’t remember his death.”

“And that’s... Why is that weird?”

“Even weaker ghosts know their death,” Jack said. “Even if they die in their sleep or die when somehow drugged. They instinctively know the details. This guy—oh, his name is Chase, by the way—didn’t know who killed him. Most murdered ghosts know that.”

Jameson started in surprise. You were at a murder scene?!

Marvin laughed. “Yeah, Jameson. Jack works for the forensics, he gets called out to murder scenes all the time.”

“Well, uh, the detectives don’t think this was a murder scene,” Jack said slowly. “They think that Chase got super drunk and uh...” He made a finger gun and pointed it at the side of his head.

“Oh god,” Marvin whispered.

“But Chase is insisting he didn’t do that,” Jack said. “And if he really did get blackout drunk and do that, he would know that’s what happened. But he doesn’t know anything else, either. So maybe he did and something is fucking with his memory? I don’t know.” He tapped the glass sphere. “But that’s where I wanted your help, Marvin.”

“You got some of his essence in the sensor?” Marvin asked.

“Mm-hmm. Can you tell me if there was... anything magical about his death?”

“On it.” Marvin walked around the counter at the back of the shop, picking up something he’d left behind there. A white mask shaped like a cat’s face, with some markings on it. The four card suits—heart, club, diamond, spade—were drawn on the forehead in black, while the ears of the mask were filled in with green and there was a black nose and six curvy green whiskers. When he tilted it in the light, it seemed to shimmer with more green markings, but they were hard to read. He walked back over to where Jack was sitting and sat down at a chair across from him.

Should I leave for this? Jameson asked, looking a bit nervous.

“No, don’t worry, it’s not like this is a secret spell or anything,” Marvin laughed. He put the mask on his face, adjusting it so it was comfortable. “You could watch, even—if you’re okay with that, Jack.”

“Yeah, why not?” Jack shrugged.

“Great! That’s be fifty pounds to observe, then.”

Jameson made a choking sound. Are you serious?!

“Absolutely not.” Marvin grinned.

Jameson stared—and then laughed. It was a strange, wheezing sound, clearly genuine but with no voice behind it. You’re a right funny man, aren’t you?

“I can be.” Marvin stretched his arms, wiggling his fingers and loosening up for magic. His short sleeves left his forearms and hands bare, showing off the tattoos he had. Celtic knot-like designs wrapped around his arms, like he was wearing four bracelets on each arm, from elbow to wrist. On the back of each hand was a unique design: a spell circle on his left, and an eye design surrounded by swirls on his right. Green light flickered over all the visible tattoos, like oil on water, and then the eye design on his right hand began to glow a solid green. He concentrated, passing his right hand over the sensor.

Can I ask what this is? Jameson asked, not bothering to hide his curiosity.

“This glass ball? It’s a sensor,” Jack said. “If there’s a ghost in an area, you feel it get unnaturally cold. And if a ghost directly touches it, it absorbs some of their essence. Not enough to cause any trouble for the ghost, of course.”

While he talked, Marvin muttered the appropriate spell words under his voice. His eyes flared green as well, bright as the glow coming from his tattoo. His vision blurred for a moment, and then cleared up. He could see lights in the cloudy glass of the sensor now. Most of them were faint, barely there, really. Leftover essence from other ghosts that Jack has used the sensor on. But most of the sensor was taken up by a bright yellow-green light. “Whoa.” Marvin blinked, leaning backwards.

“What is it?” Jack asked.

“There’s definitely some magic involved with this,” Marvin said. “This ghost’s essence is strong, alright. And there’s something different about it... What did you say his name was? Chase?”

“Yep. Chase Brody.”

“Was he an everyday or something else?”

“Uhhh... far as I could tell. I mean, if you’re not an everyday, you’re less likely to be surprised when you die and become a ghost,” Jack figured.

“You wouldn’t be surprised,” Marvin pointed out.

“Well I’m special. Can you tell what’s different about his essence?”

“Hmm...” Marvin frowned. “Judging by the color... maybe there’s some necromancy, of some kind? The shade is a bit off. You don’t normally get an in-between color like this. It kind of looks sickly, which is why it might be death magic...”

Jameson looked at Marvin. So... you’re a death witch? he asked.

“Huh? Oh, nope.” Marvin looked up at him and grinned. “You don’t need to be a death witch to do this spell, to look at ghost essence. You don’t even need to be a death witch to do necromancy, but it makes it much easier.” He turned his attention back to the sensor. “Hmm... I... don’t know the specifics of this magic, though. There’s not enough of a sample for me to figure it out.”

“Well that makes sense,” Jack said. “It was only in contact with him for like, three seconds total at most.”

“Really? And it left such a strong imprint?” Marvin looked at the sensor again in a new light. “You weren’t kidding about him being a strong ghost. Hmm...” He bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. “I don’t know what’s going on with this guy, but I’m sure that some sort of magic has fucked with him in some way.”

Jack nodded. “Weird. Do you... think we’ll need to report it to the Night Council?”

“I dunno. Depends on what spell it is, and if it was done with consent.”

Jack frowned. “Well Chase doesn’t remember what happened, so I doubt he wanted this to happen. Otherwise he would’ve made sure he remembered after he fucking died. But that’s not exactly proof, is it?” He went quiet for a moment. “I think... I need to help him.”

“You help a lot of ghosts, Jack,” Marvin pointed out.

“No, I mean... more than I usually do. The guy’s lost. He says he really cares about his family, but he lived alone, and his house, uh... wasn’t in the best condition. Not to mention this weird magic you just found.” Jack paused. “I want to see what I can do.”

Marvin nodded. “Alright. Well, let me know if there’s anything else I can do. Be happy to help.” He pushed his mask back onto his forehead.

A cat jumped up onto the table and sniffed the sensor for a moment before slowly reaching out with a paw—

“Luna, no.” Marvin grabbed her, pulling her back into his lap.

Jack laughed. “That’s a new one.”

“Want her?” Marvin held up the black cat. “I’m calling her Luna Void but you can change that if you want.”

“Nah, my apartment doesn’t allow pets.” Jack paused. “Though I was wondering about getting a new place.”

“Hmm. Fair.” Marvin looked over at Jameson, who was standing idly nearby. “Want a cat? I know I said they weren’t vamp-trained earlier, but I could put in the effort.”

Jameson smiled softly. No thanks. My roommate probably won’t take kindly to an animal.

Marvin raised an eyebrow. A roommate, huh? “Well good to know.” He put Luna Void down on the floor again. “A question for you, by the way, Jameson Jackson. Are you new in town or what?”

I’m fairly new, yes, Jameson said. Only been here for about a week. I’m getting to know the layout of the city. How did you know that?

“Between me and Jack we know a lot of those who walk in the shadows in Scuabyrg. So you were either really reclusive, or you just arrived.”

Jameson laughed silently. Clever.

Jack stood up. “Well, uh, I’m gonna head home now, Marvin. Nice to meet you, Jameson. If you ever need help with stuff, you can reach out to me. Uh, hang on. I have cards for this.” He tapped his pockets, then pulled out a card and passed it over. “My phone number’s on that. Do you have a phone?”

Jameson reached into his pocket and pulled out... a phone that looked like it was from the early 2000s. The kind that slid open to form a keyboard. Marvin held back a laugh.

“Yeah, that will work,” Jack said. “Anyway, I can help with a lot of different stuff. Other everydays tend to listen to me, and I can help with ghost stuff of course, and anything else you might need my meddie powers for.”

Thank you, Jameson said, and gave another close-lipped smile.

“You can stop by here anytime, too,” Marvin said. “As long as you’re not a dick about stuff, but you seem chill enough. I can do spells and card readings for a price, but I don’t do the French or Thoth arcana, only traditional cards and crystaleye.”

I’ll keep that in mind. Lovely to meet you. Jameson tilted his head. I think I’ll leave for the night but maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.

“See you!” Marvin waved, and Jameson headed out. “Bye, Jack!”

“Goodbye!” Jack also waved as he left.

The shop was empty again. Well... except for the cats. Marvin had barely a quiet moment before he saw two of them bolt across the floor, the smaller one jumping on the bigger one. “Bee, Ragamuffin, no!” he shouted, getting up. “Not by those shelves, you’ll break stuff!”

A few more customers dropped in as the night wore on, but there wasn’t much notable. Marvin closed the shop at one am, as he always did, then headed upstairs to relax a little before going to bed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Scuabyrg seemed like a lovely city so far. Its name was a bit peculiar—he didn’t realize it was pronounced ‘skya-berg’ until tonight—but Jameson had heard stranger names in his long life. He’d spent the past couple nights exploring the area, getting to know the shadowy haunts before returning to the place they were staying in the early hours of the morning.

Tonight, it was about four thirty when he made his way back. Their “home” was one of many identical townhouses on Steward Street, an area in the northwest of the city that was very old. They dated back before the days when England had a window tax: the more windows a building had, the more property tax the owners had to pay. So many people bricked up their windows to avoid paying what they couldn’t afford. It wasn’t a pleasant place to live for most people, but Jameson wasn’t ‘most people.’

JJ walked up to a three-story brown brick house with two metal letters on the side designating it number 77. The window frames persisted, but they were filled not with glass, but with identical brown bricks. Jameson reached into his pockets and pulled out a set of brass keys, unlocking the door and heading inside.

It was dark, but JJ was used to seeing in the dark. Even so, he turned on the lights for comfort. The furniture in the living room was old, with peeling upholstery and worn wood. In the corner was a small kitchenette with stained appliances. The stove was covered with dust, but the fridge was good as new. He made a detour to grab something from it, then headed up the stairs.

As he passed by the second story landing—

“Think fast, bitch!”

There was a blur of motion in the corner of his vision. Only the warning shout kept him from being smacked in the head, as even his supernaturally fast reflexes barely gave him time to duck. The small item hit the wall then fell to the ground. A voice laughed. “Oh shit, JJ, you did it! Wasn’t expecting that!”

JJ looked over at the laughter. Standing in an open doorway was a man with wild brown hair and grayish skin, his wide eyes blue with a ring of green around the middle of the pupil. He was wearing one of his favorite outfits: an overly large black leather jacket, a black tank top with the words “Bite Me” written on it in red, black jeans held up by a belt with a silvery buckle, and tall black boots with inch-thick soles. He leaned against the doorframe, grinning wildly to show off his fangs. JJ froze for a moment, then forced himself to relax. Hello, Anti, he said in sign language.

“Aw, you seem so sad to see me!” Anti’s grin widened. “Were you worried I would leave you?”

No. No, he definitely wasn’t worried about that. Where have you been? JJ asked calmly. For the past three nights, Anti hadn’t come back to the townhouse at sunrise. He would think that Anti had been caught in the sunlight, but he knew better to think that Anti would be so foolish. He was probably getting to know the city his own way. And honestly, Jameson had enjoyed the nights without him.

“None of your fucking business, JJ!” Anti laughed. “Hey, look at that.” He pointed at the thing that he threw at JJ’s head. 

Jameson looked down at it, then slowly bent over to pick it up again without fully turning away from Anti. It was a dark brown leather wallet.

“Got that from some vamp fucker earlier tonight. He had fifty pounds in there!” Anti was suddenly holding a handful of bills, pinching them between two fingers. Then, just as quickly, he put them back in his pocket. “Fucking moron. We should go out to eat soon.”

JJ raised an eyebrow. Then he looked down at the wallet, examining it for anything else. There was a debit card in there—Anti didn’t like those, said they were too traceable—and some other card. He took that out. This was some sort of work ID, for a place called St. Damian’s Hospital. The blurry picture on the ID showed a man with brown hair and glasses, and the name identified the person as Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, of the Haematology Department. So that’s who the wallet belonged to.

“What? Wanna keep it?” Anti asked. “Go for it. Fucking useless things, anyway.” He shrugged. “Anyway. What’ve you been up to?”

Exploring the city, JJ said.

“Find anything fun?”

Not your type of fun.

Anti narrowed his eyes. “Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

JJ looked at him. You know we don’t enjoy the same activities.

“And what’re you implying?” When JJ didn’t say anything, Anti growled. “Fine. Shut up, then.” His eyes momentarily shifted color, his irises becoming bright red. “It’s getting early, go to bed. See if I fucking care.”

Jameson felt his muscles tense. Without another world, he turned and continued up the stairs to the third floor.

Even though this was the nicest story out of all of the floors in the run-down old townhouse, Anti had elected to claim the second floor instead—the story with a hole in the wooden floor, a smaller bedroom, and water-damaged walls. Jameson hadn’t said anything about it, just in case that would prompt Anti to say something like “hmm, that’s a good point, I do deserve the best floor!” and kick him out.

The third floor had a central living area, with soft sofas and sheer white curtains framing the bricked-up windows. There was no central lighting, but Anti had ‘acquired’ some lamps when Jameson commented on how they should have them, if just for show if nothing else. There was a nice desk tucked away in the corner, with tall dark wood bookshelves on either side. Jameson hadn’t yet been able to fill them with any trinkets or books, but maybe he could pick up some from that shop he found earlier in the night. Maybe he’d be able to actually hang onto the books this time, instead of being forced to leave them behind when they moved.

The one room on the third floor was the bedroom. He headed straight there, despite not being all that tired, opening up the door and ducking inside. There wasn’t much in here, just an old claw-footed dresser, a four-poster bed in the center, and a standing mirror. A mirror that must have had a silver backing, because Jameson wasn’t able to see his reflection in it.

He changed out of his outfit and into a set of matching pajamas—one of the few things he’d been able to grab when Anti suddenly decided to move them from their last city. Then he climbed into bed. The blue comforter had not been taken with them from the last city. It had also been ‘acquired’ by Anti, along with some pillows. Jameson had no idea why Anti listened to his requests for things to put in their house. Not when he didn’t listen to anything else Jameson asked. But he was going to take what he could get, and not question it.

Jameson stared up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the pattern of stains on the old plaster. He wasn’t tired yet. But the sun would be rising soon. So he might as well try.

He could hear Anti walking around on the floor below, doing who-knows-what. But he tried to put him out of his mind. He tried to think about other things. Like... like that little shop he’d stumbled across. Magnificent Magics. He hadn’t been in a witch’s shop in a couple decades, they had changed so much. Maybe... maybe he would be able to visit again some other time. Maybe he could finally have someone else to talk to.

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Writing Pattern Tag Game

@bootlegfrank tagged me and @septiccoffeefreak - who shares this post w me because we're writing partners >:3 (frank tagged us indirectly. and then directly because i responded saying i was gonna do it. so in-indirect-diretly(??))

Rules: list the first lines(s) of your last 10 fics and see if there's a pattern. I also said where each one is from in case u don't wanna scroll through our ao3 and do the math urself!!!

all these fics except one r RPF, sooo BE WARNED. i'm putting everything under da cut, and i'm also putting my reblog banner since fanfiction!!! is!!! art!!!

Seán’s about ready to burn his entire calendar.

from "Scheduling Conflicts and How To Cope - A Guide For The Busy Homosexual"

Tommy hates LA with every fiber of his being.

from "City Of Angels"

it's cold, and it hurts.

from "The Part Where it Gets Better (Lads rescue AU)", and also THIS SOUNDS SO WEIRD OUT OF CONTEXT LIKE WHAT'S COLD??? it's water. the water is cold. this is the character based one btw. WE FOUND IT, THE NON-RPF!!!

Tommy inspects Seán’s behelit tattoo carefully, running his thumb over it a little, then kisses it.

I fucking would. kissing all his tattoos right now. mwah. this goddamn MOOD is from "There's No Place Like Home"

Ethan N3st0r was not expecting Seán to still be awake at three AM, even though with jet lag considered, he really fuckin should have.

I censored the name for search but it's not like that in the fic, that's just for tumblr. anyway, from "Three Drabbles In Which Tommy and Seán are bad at Keeping Secrets"

Ethan's the one to bring it up first, on Brain Leak, of all things.

OPENING WITH ETHAN AGAIN LMAOO. this is from "And Suddenly, It Makes Sense."

"So, who would have thought, huh? T0mmy1nn1t and Jacks3pt1c3y3, famous YouTubers, passed away in their sleep on the same night."

censored for tumblr again. from "Count your Soulmates- There's only one."

Seán and Tommy have sleepovers sometimes.

from "kissing practice". very original opening line /sar /lh (also tbh i feel awful about em being evil in this one :( I know its fanfic and i can do whatever I want but like. idk. i'm not accusing em of being mean IRL okay??? OKAY))

Seán spends about fifteen minutes pacing and staring at himself in the mirror, doing breathing exercises his therapist taught him and trying not to rub or scratch his wrists too much.

from "Puppy Love", the closest we've ever gotten to full misce posting on main

They were gluing ducks to a jeep the first time it happened.

FROM "PETNAMES" AND ALSO THE BEST OPENING LINE EVER

INTERPRETATION TIME!!!!

soooo yeah!!! we like to jump right into action as well but I think it's safe to say our autistic ass habits of giving exposition for everything lead to the specific outcome of starting in the middle of a scene, WITH an explanation of the scene. like we're already in the middle of something going on but also sometimes it's exposition at the same time somehow?? or like right after these first lines. idk maybe that's just me????

the way it's usually less (character does this) and more (character does this BECAUSE ____ // character is doing this and FEELING ____) feels like it's trying to give context, to me. but again idk maybe just me

TIME FOR SEÁN'S READING:

@septiccoffeefreak - "What I'm noticing here is more along the lines of just, how we almost always seem to open with a person. Usually by their actual name(s) too and not just a pronoun. I understand what you mean, Tommy, but I don't personally get that vibe? You could totally be right, of course, I just don't pick up on that. I defenitely notice, though, just how many of these are sentences where the literal first word is a name. the two exceptions to that are the pronoun "they" (which is still a person- or two people actually), and then water.

I guess the dialogue could also be considered an exception, but I don't think it counts since it also directly references us as characters.

and that's not something you necessarily have to do. You could open describing scenery or objects, or with dialogue that DOESN'T have the names of the characters in it- you could open with wind through a blade of grass or a character cursing under their breath or someone's cellphone crashing to the pavement or something. So it's definitely an "us" thing, it's a quirk of our writing style and not just normal writing. I don't know if like, we ALWAYS do this, but I do know that in these ten fics you pulled we do. I wouldn't be surprised if we did it like literally all the time as well, but I'm not going to pretend to know every first line we've ever penned to paper. or...print?? I don't fucking know, here, I'm just analyzing sentences on the internet for a tagging project.

Sorry if this ramble is kind of long, I hope it's at least interesting though??? sort of interesting? kind of interesting, in it's own way, hopefully. at least mildly, like a video you didn't turn on but aren't really reaching for the mouse/remote on to change it. You know?? Yeah. Like that. Or more interesting then that, hopefully. Thanks for uh, reading or, whatever, listening if you have a screen reader i guess, I'm getting nervous and it's very obvious because i'm rambling so I'm gonna hand things back off to the birthday boy, Toms. wish Tommo a happy birthday or I swear to fucking god your liver will be missing in the morning and you'll find it at the bottom of your morning cup of coffee."

back to me:

LMAO

wow omg i love my babygirl,,,, that made me laugh >:p

ANYWAYS. i didn't notice that!! oh em gee,,,,, name moment.

YOU SHOULD DO THIS TOO AND SEE IF YOUUUU SEE ANYTHING!!!!!

I'M TAGGING @kalcifers-blog AND.... no one else because all my other mutuals who i know for a fact write have paused as far as i'm aware, bc they're into mcyt RPF like I am and the w1lbvr situation put them on hiatus. and i don't know if any of them are back to feeling up to writing stuff.

I don't write about w1bvr ever and didn't watch him so I wasn't that affected but a lot of people were even if they just watched so like... Kalcie ur alone on here i'm SO SORRIE. ALSO this is /nf so u don't have to if u dont want to :p :3 >:D :000 >:PPPP :000 >:00

[jeniffercheck]

kyleeeeeee #3 from the three sentence prompt list for. maybe twiniverse? maybe? <3

3. "I don't care."

thank u nia<33 under the cut bc this got long (of course it did) :)

Karolina wakes up to an empty bed. It shouldn’t surprise her; if she were Shiv, she thinks she might’ve left as well, recalling the anger and the vitriol in the night before.

I can’t keep doing things with the nannies and the assistants, Shiv. I need you. I need you, and you’re not fucking here. I swear, you wouldn’t even read my messages if they came to you in a court summons.

She considers staying in bed, sulking the rest of the day and drowning herself in fucking RHONY and mind-numbing emails, but Audrey’s still home, which means there’s going to be a horde of hungry teenagers flooding her staff-less kitchen in a matter of hours. She pulls herself out of bed and stalks to the kitchen, planning out the string of expletives she’s going to text Shiv that’ll be no doubt intercepted by Sarah before she even has to read them, nearly missing the scent of coffee already spreading throughout the downstairs.

She briefly wonders if she did schedule the kitchen staff for the day and didn’t realize, but they’re not on her calendar. She’s not positive Audrey even knows how to use the coffee machine, which leaves one option. She hates that she’s surprised when she finds her wife in their kitchen.

“You know how to use that?” she asks as she enters, Shiv’s head shooting up from her phone where she’s stood, leaning against the counter.

“It’s mine,” Shiv says. “Why would I not?”

Karolina sits down at the island across from Shiv, shrugging her shoulders. “I just thought you’d have forgotten by now.”

Shiv scoffs and sets her mug down on the counter. She pulls a second one out, Karolina’s, and fills it. “Good morning, honey,” Shiv says to herself, adding cream and sugar to the mug. “How’d you sleep?”

Shiv slides the mug across the counter to Karolina, and Karolina sips it. It’s perfect. “Good morning, honey,” Karolina says. “It needs more sugar.”

Shiv grabs a couple of packets, tossing them across the counter. Karolina grabs them, but leaves them unopened. Shiv rolls her eyes when she notices.

“You’re such an ass.”

It’s almost so normal of an interaction that Karolina would feel comforted by it if it weren’t for the events of the night prior playing on a loop in her head. She knows Shiv feels it too—try as she might, the woman isn’t a robot—but neither of them is going to bring it up. Stalemate, per usual.

Karolina thinks about ripping off the band-aid and bringing it back up, but the apartment is too quiet and too many of Audrey’s friends are over. She’s already dreading the thought of any of them having heard last night. Then she sees it. She notices it before Shiv does, her phone ringing, silently on the counter.

“Your phone’s ringing,” Karolina says. Shiv looks down at it, her fingers twitch and her lips purse, but she doesn’t budge. Shiv has a point to prove.

“I don’t care.”

Karolina can’t help the laugh that escapes her. Shiv, if anything, is not a good liar.

“You do,” Karolina says. Time’s running out on the call, and they both know it. Karolina doesn’t want to be cruel. She doesn’t want to be the thing keeping Shiv from her life. She doesn’t want to be resentment in a body, the thing that suppresses Shiv until Shiv has no choice but to suppress her back. She doesn’t want that for them. She sighs. “Answer it, Shiv.”

Shiv still doesn’t pick it up, though. Instead, she grabs the phone and silences the call, flipping it over to hide the screen.

“They can survive for an hour without me,” Shiv says. “While we figure out what the fuck I’m doing here.”

You’ve been in between home and DC for months. I wouldn’t even call this your home anymore.

Karolina looks down into her coffee. She’ll admit, part of her had wanted to make Shiv feel bad. To make her see what she was missing, to see what her absence had caused, and she knows she succeeded, that much is clear. What she didn’t want was to drive Shiv away. To make her feel like this isn’t where she belongs.

“Shiv,” Karolina says, looking back up. “This is your home. I shouldn’t have…when I said that—I was just mad.”

Shiv grips her mug, and her eyebrows betray her a bit as they twitch downward ever so slightly. “Are you still mad?” Shiv asks, and she somehow sounds hopeful, even though they’re both well aware it’s wishful thinking.

Karolina wants to say yes, wants to lay into Shiv all over again and tell her all the ways Shiv’s failing them, Karolina, their kids, but it’s hard to do it now that Shiv’s here. Now that Karolina’s not running on sheer spite and loneliness, and she actually remembers what it’s like to sleep with Shiv’s arms around her. Now that she can look into Shiv’s eyes and see that they’re just as tired as her own. Just as worried. It gives Karolina pause that she doesn’t want, an aching absolution for Shiv that always comes over her, no matter what she does, no matter how Karolina feels.

“Of course, I’m mad,” Karolina says, because she has to. “But I don’t want to be, Shiv. I miss you.”

Maybe it’s the way she says it—without the gruffness of a hoarse throat or drawer to slam shut in cadence with her words—or maybe it’s because it’s the truth and there’s nothing else left to say, that makes Shiv come to her side of the counter and cup her cheeks, lips lightly hitting her forehead.

“I’m right here,” Shiv says quietly.

“For how long?”

Karolina’s glad she can’t see Shiv’s face when she asks, glad Shiv can’t see the preemptive disappointment on her own.

“Audrey found me this morning,” Shiv says. “I promised I’d make her and the girls pancakes.”

So, long enough to make breakfast. After that, it’s fair game. Shiv could be out the door within the hour, which means Karolina doesn’t want to waste what little time she has left being upset. Not when it’s inevitable anyway.

She leans away from Shiv, letting a smirk take over her features. “She wants your pancakes?”

“Well, duh,” Shiv says, welcoming the switch up in energy. “You know mine are better.”

“If you like them burnt,” Karolina says, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Shiv says, laughing. Karolina’s surprised when she finds herself laughing as well, and her lips settle into a small smile, Shiv’s own to match. They sit in the silence for a moment, letting the feeling of genuine joy flow between them, and then Shiv holds out a hand.

“Fine. Show me how it’s done, Novotney,” Shiv says. Karolina knows it won’t mean everything’s fixed, knows they’ll probably be arguing again by the time they have the house all to themselves and Shiv’s due back in DC, but she lets herself have this moment. Lets herself have Shiv.

“Fine, Roy,” Karolina says. “But you’re cracking all of the eggs.”

Shiv frowns as Karolina grabs her extended hand. “You know I hate that.”

“Oh,” Karolina says. “Do you? I must’ve forgotten.”

“Fuck you,” Shiv says, and she smiles as she says it, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like she and Shiv might be just fine.

[msmargaretmurry]

otp ask meme!! for matthew/leon, any variation of them you wanna think about, whichever of these sparks joy: 9, 16, 20, 30, 38, 44, 48

they all spark joy is the problem!! but it's late so i practiced some restraint. these are mostly from the HAW perspective because, like tnno, those are the versions that live in my head 😂

9 - What are their thoughts on having children?

in HAW specifically, matthew wants a family so badly. he has to spend some time untangling that from his complicated feelings about what he's ~supposed~ to do (marry a pretty girl who will have his kids, etc etc) but even after all that, man, he wants to be a dad. leon's a little more ambivalent going into it, in a "yeah maybe kids someday!" kind of way, but after they've been together for a few years he not only wants matthew to be able to be a dad because matthew wants it so bad, but he really wants to have a family with matthew. they were already planning on getting themselves onto the same team somewhere for the last stretch of their careers, and so incorporating the having kids into that plan is pretty easy.

(the weekend after i posted HAW, i went on a long daytrip with a friend and we spent the whole car ride planning their futures and potenial sequels to the story, there is SO much of this mushy crap in my head)

16 - Can they stay up all night just talking?

they fuck up their sleep schedules multiple times doing this on the phone, actually. in the summer, matthew sometimes forgets about the time difference until leon says something about the sunrise. they don't do it in person so much because… the like sleeping next to each other. gross. (tbh this can apply to the land between our bodies versions of them, too)

30 - Your OTP gets to pick out each other’s outfits; what is each wearing?

for leon, matthew would pick out a suit for leon in a pattern that leon would never pick out for himself, but that matthew thinks looks really good and stylish. perhaps even a little flashy. it is not actually flashy and is only kind of stylish because his tailor has decent taste, but matthew picked out a blue to compliment leon's eyes and he thinks he looks so good. leon does look good, but more because he's a good-looking guy than due to any heavy lifting by the suit, but he lets matthew be proud because he thinks it's cute. turns out the suit looks best on the bedroom floor anyway.

for matthew, leon would pick out a bright orange oilers jersey that says DRAISAITL 29 on the back.

38 - Who is more sexually experimental? Who’s more vanilla?

okay honestly i think one of the main reasons they work so well for me as a pairing in general is to me they're on the same level here! one of them pushes the boundaries and the other just goes with it. does this sometimes backfire and make everything worse? absolutely, but that's what makes it fun (for me, not necessarily for them).

48 - Who’s the better driver?

LEON. leon 1000000%. we all know matthew is a terrible driver. that's why his teammates drive him everywhere. i can't believe they even trust him with that golf cart.

[kwangyanese]

literally screaming and throwing up when i read this last night (tweet trans ((+added context from other tweets)): taro seemed very tired in m countdown's BBB recording, looked like he was in pain, started hyperventilating after the 3rd recording and could barely stand by himself). i already imagined taro was getting sick bc they've been going ballistic traveling everywhere nonstop to promote and shotaro's dance breaks would probably come back to bite him in the ass at some point... and it's really sad bc u can tell he tries his best to keep it together for the team, he probably feels burdened being the oldest one and the honorary leader, and even though it's his 4th year as an idol he's still extremely young at this and even tho he has a billion hyungs to talk to in nct and in sm generally, it's not like he has the time to. milkteas started asking for sm to let him rest even if it meant missing promo week, and to be honest i think we should extend that to all 6 of them. they all look very tired. shotaro looks so skinny and sunken like omg.....

and then riize official made them post those notes on twitter, and shotaro was like yeah i'm tired but it's fine hehe i can handle it hehe ☺️ BRO IF YOU DONT LAY DOWN RIGHT NOW....... literally what the fuck is wrong with sm. they made winter promote after she had a surgery and was supposed to rest for weeks and then they stopped promoting so they could preparing for the tour (and winter also posted a hehe don't worry about me i know my limits ☺️ NO YOU DONT ur literally disobeying your doctor)!!!! ningning got so sick she had to miss a stage!!!!! aespa got way less schedules than riize and they still show signs of burning out bc sm does not now how to do things right. they barely get time to eat and sleep. maybe it's just me but i much rather my fav miss a few schedules now to rest than have then overwork themselves and then never be able to give their 100% in the future cos they severely fucked their health.

anyway, i waited all morning to see the BBB stage live to check if shotaro was in fact as bad as ppl said he was, and what shocked me is that he did look more tired than usual, but still gave it 1000% even if he looked like he was in pain. fancam below. there were so many nice comments, i do hope he reads it ...

[certifiedbitch777]

New Year, New Me?

Entry Date: 2/2/2024

I am currently 23 years old. The age I always hear carries the most tribulations for our early 20s, which has pretty much been my pain point as I have no idea what I'm doing in life.

Shocking, I know, right?

Before I got my current corporate job, I had so much passion. I want to try out everything in life. I wanted to be a writer, dancer, singer, actor, psychologist - Shit, I even tried to do IT because why the fuck not? I had so much energy and drive I felt like I could conquer the world. And yet, here I am now, and I have no passion, interest, or drive. I'm literally just floating in life right now, not knowing what the fuck to do next.

I'm in survival mode, to be honest. The only thing that is hardwired into my brain is the goal of getting this shmoney.

Despite all this, I still feel lazy since I have no ambition for anything outside of money. My mind is plagued by what I should and shouldn't do and all I can land on is 'I don't fucking know :|'. 

Regardless of this unclarity and lack of ambition, I only want a clear sense of direction. I want to get going already, but I don't know what steps to take. Again, I understand I'm only 23 years old, but still. I need that clarity to take action on a path I know I will be satisfied with, but once again IDFK.

There's no way around this phase at this point; It's inevitable. The only thing I guess I can implement is going on a deep assessment of my life (once again) and reviewing what is and isn't working for me. I've just been avoiding doing this because it is tiring and tedious.

Fuck, maybe I'm just being lazy.

I mean, tbh, it isn't fun; It just sounds like a load of work.

Damn, I think I'm lazy...

I mean, they say it takes 30 to 60 days to break a habit. I'll start looking into my bad habits and see what I can get out of that. 

Here's a list of my current shitty habits that I'll be challenging:

Sleeping before or at midnight: My sleep schedule is terrible for a variety of reasons, but I want to start sleeping before midnight to practice better sleeping habits. For reference, I typically stay up until 3am despite working in the morning.

Waking up before 8am: Okay, so this is mainly to be able to study for my permit (Yes, I'm 23 and don't know how to drive. Who's gonna check me??) and work out. This will also allow me downtime after work (5pm).

Consistent Oral Hygiene: Okay, before y'all supposedly clean freaks call me gross, I'm not saying I don't brush my teeth. I do, and twice a day at that, along with using my Therabreath mouthwash. I just need to be consistent with flossing, specifically at night. I've been getting better at it, but I want to implement it into my daily routine.

Taking Daily Medications: I suck at consistently taking my mood stabilizers, as it just makes me feel dreary and sleepy throughout the day. Since I stopped taking it consistently, my mood hasn't been the best. Needless to say, I'm not gonna do that anymore.

Working Out: I've been athletic for as long as I can remember. However, in recent years, I've been on and off and want to get back to having a snatched waist with a phat dumpy. I'm already comfortable with my current size, but to be back in shape wouldn't hurt. I think I'll be sharing my journey with pictures every so often so that you guys can have a realistic peek into my journey.

Eating Habits: I need to eat healthier, PERIOD. I don't have the worst eating, but it's terrible for me because I'm very impulsive with food and suffer from an eating disorder. I have toggled between binging and starving myself many times in the past, so I want to try to find that sweet spot where I can eat healthily and not feel deprived to the point where I binge.

Prioritize Health: Both physical and mental. I suck at this and, at times, can let work take a toll on my everything. Last year almost broke me, and I don't want this year to be the same. I need to be happy and healthy. No comprising at all.

So yeah, that's my list. Once again, I'm just going to point out I am a lazy girl and I have terrible habits, however, I do want to make a change because I'm really tired of this loop.

I want to reach all of my financial, personal, and career goals this year so badly. The good thing is I have some steps to outline what I need to change. The challenge is pushing through to get the end result :\

Anyway, I will most likely post my initial progress for my journey for working out and do bi-weekly check-ins to track my progress.

This may sound corny, but New Year, New Me?

[disdaidal]

I can't remember the last time I've cried this hard, but I guess it was time.

So my new school is pretty much now pressuring me to find a place to train at, which is not stressful at all, because the workplace I went for an interview last week hasn't returned my calls or my email, despite the principal initially seemed genuinely interested in my application.

Thing is, I wouldn't be this stressed out at all but my new teacher made it pretty clear today that next week is gotta be the deadline for that contract - otherwise my studies really aren't going anywhere.

I also missed my doctor's appointment yesterday because I missed the train. I had to wait for that appointment for 3 fucking months, and because it's related to my financial situation (I'm really trying not to get more student debt, especially with the way how I've been and how I barely managed to keep my shit together during pandemic). Luckily I was able to talk on the phone with her and the social worker, but my new appointment was rescheduled at the end of the month. I also talked to my nurse on the phone a little after that; a nurse who I haven't seen in the last six months because all our appointments have been cancelled at the last minute. So I got a new one in September.

My sleeping schedule has been pretty much fucked up all July-August, and for the last two days that I've been going to the city and attending these classes, I've slept like 6 hours in total these two days. Both days I've come home feeling extremely drained (besides those 6 hrs in total, I napped all evening yesterday). And last night I slept something like 2 hours before school and when I finally got back by train a couple of hours ago, I tried to sleep on the train but I felt so nauseated that I thought I was gonna hurl. Needless to say, my car ride back home was all but fun.

When I finally got home and laid down in my bed for a while, I started crying. Like I know it's probably because I've literally slept like 2hrs last night and it wasn't even a deep sleep, so, think I've just had it. My body and brain couldn't take it anymore.

But when I was on the train, I was going to call the school's office (the one I went to that interview for), but naturally their calling hours had already ended at 2pm. I also thought about sending another email but like I said, I felt extremely tired and anxious; making more phone calls and sending more emails when I'm feeling this way really isn't the way I want to go again. Especially since I already tried both on Monday when they were supposed to inform me last Friday, and I haven't got any response since. Which is not very nice to be honest (my new teacher did comment it's kind of unprofessional of them, and I gotta agree a little bit there).

But seriously, the only thing that's even made my last two school days tolerable, were the other students in my class. I kind of took up smoking again (bad habit I know) because of all this stress and shit that's been going on with me lately, so at least it was an easy way to get to know some of our other students, and got to spend some time with them, so at least I didn't have deal with my worries all alone. Our Moroccoan student (whom I've talked a lot with; I got along with him already on our entrance examination on May) tried to encourage me today when we were smoking, and even said I could try and apply to the same place he works at - which is working with immigrants mostly. Since I did choose international studies as one of my optional subjects, that could also work, because sooner or late I'm gonna have to work/train at a place like that anyway.

But obviously my first and foremost goal right now is try to find a place near where I live because obviously traveling isn't cheap, and I might indeed have a couple of places around here in mind that I could ask for training opportunities.

In any case, if I don't get an answer by tomorrow (we'll have another long school day so I probably won't have any time to be making extra phone calls anywhere), I think I'm just gonna ditch this thing and start calling other places on Monday.

If this is how it's gonna be and I'm on a strict deadline here, I don't suppose there's any other choice. I'm not willing to give up just yet - though I admittedly thought of that for a moment, too. Since I've become somewhat depressed lately again, clearly, and that must have something to do with my bpd. Which is fucking *nice* because right now I'm supposed to be active and efficient so I can actually get shit done and get my studies properly started - and yet right now, I'm feeling all but that.

So I guess I'll go to another class tomorrow - we have a special day anyway as we're visiting a local museum at the end of the day, so. Maybe I can try to forgive myself for being the way I am and give this whole thing a rest until weekend. And if the teacher asks about it tomorrow as she might, I'm just gonna say I'm going try again on Monday.

Cause I really don't see any other choice right now. But again, I'm really not lying about this. I'm not feeling my best right now, and this kind of pressure and stress is not doing me any favors.

[winterswhite]

Personal rant, CW for talks of blood and medical stuff

The past 5 days have really been so much for me and it... seriously doesn't feel like only 5 days at all with how much has gone on

On Wednesday evening I got home from work feeling extremely weak after telling my QPP repeatedly that I don't feel good, and after I was no longer able to hold my head up or open my eyes without extreme effort my roommate took me to the emergency room where we waited 9ish hours for me to even be taken to a bed and then one or two more to be seen

When they did get there, they said they needed to take blood, give me an IV, do chest x-rays, and a few other tests (I think they tested me for a stroke too) because clearly a lot was wrong

The nurse tried to put the IV in my left arm and then my hand, failing both times because she couldn't find a vein. She then called over a second nurse, who said since I had already been poked twice, she wasn't going to poke me unless she was sure she had one

She left without poking me.

She called over a doctor to come with a whole ass ultrasound setup to use that to find a vein, and they only found a suitable one in my upper right arm, meaning I had to hold it up at an uncomfortable angle the entire time and because of where it was, it also hurt the entire time (only a little, but still)

They also interrupted it in the middle to take more blood ("well that can't be good")

Also, while they were putting the IV in, I remember them struggling to reach the vein, and the pain from them wiggling it around trying to reach my difficult ass vein, and then hearing "how attached are you to this sweatshirt?"

I had... bled all over it (fortunately they stopped the bleeding pretty fast, very different from my last experience with an IV where I nearly bled out on the hospital floor)

Anyway, after wanting to cry from how uncomfortable the whole experience was but eventually managing to sleep through the last half hour of it, they told me about my bloodwork, and a lot is wrong! Some of the things that have always been wrong with me, and some new things, like low thyroid and low potassium, low sodium etc

They scheduled me for a follow-up appointment in a week and I leave, it is now Thursday morning

I picked up the meds they prescribed me and got home around noon, exhausted from not having slept all night, and napped

Only to wake up to a terrible toothache out nowhere, that at its worst was so bad I couldn't lift a finger

I ran to the dentist but they were closing by the time I got there and told me to come back the next morning

I did, and they said I need an emergency root canal, but that it would be hard to find any endodontists who take my insurance, which... yeah, it proved to be impossible

So now, today, I'm scheduled for the root canal, and I have to pay for the whole $1500 out of pocket

Which I haven't reached, but... I'll have to see what I can manage now

Also, through all of this, my workplace is telling me it's "unacceptable" not to show up to work because they're short-staffed. As if I wasn't stuck in the fucking hospital. I worried about getting fired, because I need that money to pay for the fucking root canal and I hadn't even received my first paycheck, so I went in to work yesterday, but wasn't able to finish a full day of work because I felt like Shit

They still told me they need a doctor's note specifically stating that I can't work for x number of days (even though I gave them my emergency room discharge papers to prove I was unwell) before they could believe that I was actually not feeling well enough to work

So I guess I'm going to ask the fucking endodontist for one

And this cuts into my funds for my trip to take the JLPT and some other things in June, which I also really need so I can get a better job. It is absolutely necessary that I take this trip, but I'll no longer have the money for it yet, and travel costs only go up as you get closer to the date of, so lol.

Anyway. It has not even been 5 full days since I first went to the ER. I need a fucking break.

[vicsdeangelis]

Maneskin don't even seem to like Rush at this point. I was at the concert tonight and was very let down. The only songs they performed from Rush were the singles + don't wanna sleep, kool kids, gasoline and timezone, infy acoustic. Literally none of my favorites from the album. Also no vent'anni or torna a casa. But we got a random cover of Girls & Boys and another new song (at least it sounded good). And a setlist 4 songs shorter than the lkot one for a much more expensive ticket. Disappointed.

i have some time before i clock in and i have Feelings lmao

so you're telling me they didn't play ANY songs in italian???? 😭😭😭😭 i wanted to listen to la fine and mark chapman live so bad, and even tho i knew the chances were low i'm still disappointed. maybe the setlist will change until november, but i'm not hopeful

i heard a snippet of the new song and i liked it too, i wonder when they'll release it. but at the same time i don't want it to be soon because each new song they release it means another song i like is gonna get taken off the setlist, cuz between don't wanna sleep and supermodel/kool kids/gasoline, which ones do we all think they're most likely to stop playing 🙄

here's the thing. rush came out THIS YEAR! why are they already releasing new material? forget what i said about dropping new stuff during tour, which i already don't like, but like. let your current work stay with people for longer??? like, c'mon.... their release schedule is all messed up imo

the way things are going i don't think i'll want to see them live again. their concert last year was legitimately the best night of my life, and i'm sure i'll have fun this year too. but if i'm gonna have to spend the months leading up to the concert wondering if they're gonna release new stuff that i might not like and if they'll take stuff that i do like off their setlist then what's the fucking point?

[werewolf-femboy-maid]

me after another episode (multiple meanings)

yes, another "keep reading" this is gonna be fun

guys :"0 I got cooked by my own stupidity (malnutrition, dehydration, inconsistent sleep schedule, adhd, bpd, lack of self awareness, lack of discipline, not doing breathing exercises when upset, trauma, broken phone I didn't have money to pick up today, stupid university applications I still need to do, red40 from last night and undiagnosed autism) again, look it me the fried.

dude I was not having it man. Idk if it was the red40 again or im just a genuinely horrible person. I must hate people, I must not give a single shit about anyones feelings, im super selfish and I only care about my own useless opinions and feelings.

I literally do property damage. I littered today. I am just the worst person. and yet I am not "that guy". how can I be this shitty of a person and not be "that guy" but noOoOo if I even TRY to be violent he threatens me with the police. (I unbuckled and opened the passenger side door to see if I could just die while he was driving and slapped him multiple times at a later point not while he was driving)

I screamed so much guys it hurts I don't want to be alive. this next story was from a month or two ago already but yeah basically one day I decided to steal my potential mother's in law alcohol and now she's hiding it from me :}}}}

I am so happy with myself! look at what a trustworthy and safe and loving person I am with her son! wow what a great way to introduce myself to this new family that welcomed me wow (she even took me to a pride parade when my bf couldn't because of work. they've both taken me at least once by now)

wow and I told his catholic grandma that I hope god sends me to hell (she wouldn't stop talking) (yes im a bad person for that, that's the whole point of this post, to talk about what a shitty and fake and ungrateful piece of shit I am) (im looking for excuses to throw myself away because I cant take it anymore) (its either live a life of isolation or live a life of constantly making mistakes and "learning" and disappointing everyone in my life and constantly hearing shit from other people about how I don't clean up enough or how violent I am) (id rather die alone) (but im too much of a coward to break up) (wow I cant believe my selfish incompetent ass could ever want kids) (how sadistic could you possibly have to be to look at my miserable useless genetics and think I should have offspring) (its so delusional to even think for a second I was ever capable of a happy and normal marriage or life) (I will never be a good mother) (I will never be anything to anyone except another mouth to feed and a danger) (if my only two options is complete isolation or learning by listening to other people criticize my actions (which I inevitably think is my character) without getting violent, then I would rather be in complete isolation) (well I want to choose complete isolation) (but im a fucking coward and im addicted to substances so I don't want to leave yet) (im such a horrible piece of shit) (yes im making my mindset as shitty as possible just like he says I always do on purpose) (idk either, I don't know why I do that but I think its a subconscious coping mechanism that worked at some point in my life (I think I realized early on that if I just overwhelm myself to a crazy amount, I won't be physically be able to think anymore, and then I don't have to process the yelling) (I think that might be what happened and why I always instantly try to make my problems as bad as possible so I don't have to think about them because ive already lived out the worst possible scenario by the time im too tired to process anything else)

e

the world is evolving too fast for primitive humans like me. I can barely start researching EVEN TOPICS I AM INTERESTED IN and I cant stick on the screen for more than 30 seconds before I have to close the laptop and there's too many things

I don't even answer my messages, not here, not on snap, not text, not email, not anything, not reddit or anything I just don't interact. I don't even go to Omegle because I cant find the "right time"

its such a stupid fucking lie the "right time"

I don't even talk to many people on pony town. im so fucking sad, like talking to people was my thing

and I always say I am gonna shut up and I never actually shut up because I forget, I hate my voice so much rn I cannot just shut up, im sure everyone that knows me wants me to just kill myself so (I was distracted by a conversation irl here)

I mean yeah idk

its just survival of the fittest at this point, it is just faulty systems dying out and making way for stronger organisms. (this isn't about poverty or classism, fuck all that)

I don't think realistically anyone is cool enough to picture my head on a platter, and I don't think even more realistically that anyone actually wants me to straight up die. I could be wrong tho. maybe some day I'll pull someone's last little straw, and my food will finally be poisoned and I can just die! :)

he almost finally broke up, but he took it back like a fucking retard. I hate love so much, it's all a lie. "love" is really just a retarded coping mechanism where these people cant live without each other, but trying to understand each other is fucking hell, and either way, both parties are fucking miserable.

I have so much privilege and im wasting it all

my life is so nice and I am ruining and wasting every second. I could be so happy right now and I am throwing it all away because the world and myself make me believe I am a useless piece of shit, and the sooner I throw myself away, the sooner these people can heal and move on with their lives.

JUST SAY IT SAY IM SELFISH

SAY IM A FUCKING SELFISH PUSSY

IM A SELFISH PIECE OF SHIT

I WILL NEVER SCREAM LOUD ENOUGH

have some fun gifs

11 year old me doing my 30 math questions and daydreaming about being a Pokemon character for 7 hours after another screaming match while my younger brother finishes his homework faster and plays video games all day (oooooh that's what happened...)

:))))))) help me help me im about to die but not really because I was never brave enough to finally go

I need to go

I ne hhhhhh what's the point of this. im just talking to myself again like I always have. I didn't even drink water today. really? just the red40 and more discipline IS THIS WHY IM SO SHITTY

I have so much privilege and things to be thankful for and people in my life who should've thrown me away a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time ago, but they still sticking around anyway because they're all FUCKING RETARDED

this kind of mindset is why grape culture is still a problem (for those confused, im afraid im not referring to actual grapes. I wish from the bottom of my heart I was), because it's always the victim's fault for staying with the abuser. but now no one cares except the boy's family because he's a boy and is less likely to get [hysically hurt. I've already lost his trust tho. I guess that's what makes me even more not want to try, ive already ruined it. im still here in denial I guess. I lie to myself, "oh maybe sensory overload wont be that big of an issue if we have kids" "ill become more mature by then" "I can just discipline myself"

I had three fucking years. to just do my fucking breathing exercise any time im upset. and I cant even do that. I don't think I should be a part of society because no one will benefit from me. does this mindset also endanger other disabled people? yes it does. does this make me a bad person that doesn't care about other people? yes it does. I realized nature is so perfect because disabled individuals DIE.

I wasn't potty trained until 4, and I read somewhere that people who have anger issues tended to be potty trained later in life. so I guess im a shithead. I also had pneumonia when I was 3. I should've been dead.

don't worry about me I am very unlikely to die. im really just writing out my negative thoughts so I can stop thinking about them because I know I can just go back and look at this later.

I was tripping so many balls and I screamed so so loud out the CAR WINDOW....

there is no career for me besides the circus. except im not even funny, im just weird and annoying and violent. he's going to lose his job because of me. they're gonna pay more money to the apartment complex because I keep slamming the doors and breaking shit. I break so much shit I need to die. fbi please assassinate me at this point, I am literally only going to cause damage if I am kept alive. I should not have children. passing my genes down would be a crime. no human should live with such a poor miserable mind. im not doing that to my kids. I couldnt hope to ever apologize enough if I have a kid and they suffer the same way I did.

I have every blessing in the world and I somehow manage to be the most miserable scumbag piece of shit abusive person

he says he hates himself and he could not possibly hate himself more than I hate myself

idk what im even saying. I think my episode is almost done, but man the red40 is weird. im kinda at the point where im too tired to be angry and now im just kinda really tired and lightheaded and I cant pay attention anymore. my arms are weaker fingers cold.

I guess it was the red40 because I was doing alright but then I ate that last night. I also had another huge episode about a week ago (I broke up and also told his mom im breaking up) (yes and then I took it back after eating protein) (how am I still alive, you ask???) (please tell me idk either) ( my stress tolerance must be WILD) (im lowkey waiting for a random obsessive person to figure out the lore and say something mysterious or something idk I hate it when im in a rush and something is too mysterious and then I cant figure it out and it angers my poor fragile little ego) (yes im one of those people that give up on learning if im not good at it within 3 tries)

I suck at cleaning up after myself (I didn't clean the stove after cooking) and I forgot to mention I mopped the floors (there was grease on the floor and I didn't clean it when it was a puddle and it spread so I mopped the floor) but it's not useful to mop the floors apparently. just not as important as the stove because more stuff is on there. and the mop fuck I just feel so unappreciated but I also am aware that it makes sense that the stove is more urgent. I just keep putting my effort in the wrong places.

my movements are not steady I should drink water and eat something for the first time today

wait I had at least two dreams where I was screaming really loud but I couldnt hear myself what do those mean?

idk man I get torn between self pity and shame. its always one extreme or the other. its either "oh my god im so sad look at how sad it was omg why are people so insensitive when im obviously struggling?" or "omfg I cant stand

"you don't care enough to solve a problem, you only care enough to cause a problem" - my loving boyfriend whose family probably cant fucking stand me and is probably praying day and night for something to happen to me so I can finally be out of their lives

this is what I get for talking about my feelings. this is what I get. and he says im not paying attention to the context. maybe I am. maybe the devil is smiling as he separates us, a supposedly perfect couple.

I need to clone myself so I can fuck but also so I can kill myself and mutilate my dead body and wear my skin over my face and squeeze the blood from my heart into a basin of soju so I can take a bath in it and drink it all. i would also investigate the lungs if I remember to smoke with the clone before I kill it. dude smoking with my clone would be so cool but it would also make killing myself a little more sad

I think part of my problem is that one of my trauma responses is

Mind: oh man there's a lot of loud noise and hostile energy going around, and negotiating is not making it stop, what do we do? Mind: hmmmm how about we also get extremely loud and wear ourselves out so we physically can't process or do anything for the next 5 hours? Mind: wait excuse me what?

I wanna live in a little wood box alone in some forest for the rest of my life. I wouldn't be happy but id certainly be more comfortable. no person to please, no expectation from any human or animal, no task or thing I have to work on. just me, my delusions, and my little box. occasionally I will go and get food and water and that's it. I don't ever want to interact with anything again. I'll just die one day in the forest

which is what I would say if I wasn't a fucking pussy. im too scared to leave the people in my life and I love my mother too much. maybe I'll run away forever after my parents pass away. and I can be happy with my mom again. like I always wanted.

stay safe baby birds much love <3

and remember!

There's no such thing as the "right time".

[provoke-my-gaze]

It's been a while.

I'm coming back to this because I need to collect my thoughts. Seemingly, my old problems have finally faded away (that, or they've been replaced with newer, different negative feelings.)

A couple weeks ago he started acting really weird, and it got to me. Like, a lot. Normally I would just let this go, distance myself for a bit and let time run its course and heal my bad feelings, but because of the nature of this situation with the two of them that will be difficult. Maybe even impossible, unless fe goes all in on not telling me about what's been happening between the two of them. Besides, I also feel like I owe it both to ti and fe to make a concerted effort to continue trying to make this current situation worse. But something Does need to change. It's gotten to the point where I get distant or irritable at fe every time she comes home from spending time with ti. This is a huge problem, because she hasn't even been doing anything wrong. I am having a hard time actually quantifying *why* this is happening. Or maybe I can actually figure it out and I just don't because I'm afraid of what the answer might actually be.

For now, I'll try to stick to hashing out these issues I'm having with specifically ti and I's relationship, since I've already put my foot down that I don't want to mediate issues happening between the two of them, I don't want to expect either of them to do it for me. I need to focus on my own personal relationships instead- so I've gotta sit him down and have a talk with him.

I need to tell him that things are in fact weird for me right now, but not because of their relationship. His behavior of blowing up my phone and grilling me about pretty much everything about fe and I's relationship was overwhelming and severely overstepping on his part. I've already told him as much and afterwards he continued to do it to me a couple of times anyway so I also don't really feel like I can trust him now.

I need to tell him that because he is dating my wife, the nature of my relationship with him has to change. My therapist talked to me a lot about this and to put it plainly, we can't treat each other like normal friends anymore. I cannot listen to him vent about his problems with fe, nor can I do any sort of emotional labor on his behalf for their relationship, nor can I mediate or serve as a go-between for the both of them. These are all things that I would do for a friend under normal circumstances but I Cannot do it here. It's a conflict of interest at best, and at worst will completely fuck up my mental state.

Finally, I have one last point that I can think of for right now. I don't actually know if I want to bring this up in my talk with him or if it needs to happen during a formal sit-down between the three of us, because it Does in fact have to do with their relationship specifically, and how their relationship affects mine. Ideally, I would like fe to talk with him about it first since it directly has to do with the both of them but I'm not sure if she will do it to the degree that I need, so maybe I need to take matters into my own hands.

After observing their relationship for the past 8 weeks, I am pretty sure that ti actually wants to have a primary partner (and probably also be in a monogamous relationship). This on it's own would be fine- except that some of his behavior really makes me feel as if he is acting on the level of her being his primary. This is a problem, because I am fe's primary partner, and I am not willing to stand on equal ground as him in regards to her priority.

I think ultimately this comes down to a difference of perception, or lines. For example he likely sees that he only gets to see her twice a week, so of course he is not her primary. I get to sleep in bed with her six nights out of the week after all! But from the way I see it- keeping to a strict schedule like this, the fact that I will never get to see her on any Friday normally, and the simple fact that they DO see each other twice a week every single week is far too much for me. Since I last posted to this blog, I have begun seeing one of my friends- mag. I wouldn't ever ever expect her to make the time to see me every single week- especially because, she has her own primary partner and I Do Not want to take time away from them. Despite the fact that we are dating now I am not entitled to her, actually.

This will be a very tricky subject for me to approach with him however, because again, this is directly about their relationship and not mine so I feel as if it is not my place to sit here and make demands of them. It does heavily affect me, and also my own relationship with fe, so for my own benefit it would be very helpful if something were to change. Fe has even voiced to me that the level of commitment and emotional intimacy that ti expects from her is more than what she wants- she told me that she would prefer a much more casual relationship where all they do is hang out and have sex. As always though, I don't know what goes on in her head since I am not her. I really want to take her word for it, but I also know that she changes her mind A Lot. How she feels when she is apart from him is different from how she feels when she is with him/actively talking to him via text or on the phone. On top of that she has broken my trust many times in the past and unfortunately I feel as if I can never truly trust her when she says something to me.

So I feel stuck, and that's hard. Do I actually say something about this to him? Is it my place to do so? Do I instead just wait and give fe the space to broach this conversation with him one on one instead, since it's about their relationship anyway? But will she actually ever do that? Can I even trust her to? Also how much of this is my issues with their relationship dynamic, and how much of it is simply my issues with ti? There's a lot of gray area there- if it were someone who isn't him and hasn't acted like he has would I still be having these problems? Or would I still be having the personal problems I was having from weeks ago before ti started acting weird? At what point during all of this do I become a hypocrite? Because I have mag now, and we text often. The amount of time fe has spent messaging ti and talking with him on the phone has been and continues to be a point of contention for me, and yet I do the same with mag now. Does that make me a bad husband/friend/person? Should I even care about that, because my relationship with mag and fe's relationship wit ti are completely different anyway?

I have so so so many things I still need to figure out. I think I've decided that it's better that I don't touch on this third point and just speak with ti about specifically his relationship with me instead the next time I see him. I really hope this goes well- he's my friend and I don't actually like having things go down hill between the two of us but I've really just been getting pissed off and upset a lot lately, and I don't know what to do about it anymore other than just come forward to him with it all. How he chooses to react to it and what happens after that will be out of my hands, and we'll just have to wait and see how it goes.

[sapphirefox1995]

Isnt depression talk wild? For ref my depression is really bad like my doc has to check up to see if I'm alright once a week and is constantly recommending the crisis hotline to me (I heard good things but its fucking terrifying) and I'm not taking the best care of myself.

Well I was having the horrible no good thoughts last night when I was in so much pain I didnt see the point in being alive and after forcing myself through it I asked my mom how to help with my depression. She has it as well, so maybe she could give advice but she didn't at all.

Like I know the basics, you don't have to repeat it. Exercise, have a routine, get a sleep schedule, ect ect but I asked "How do you find the effort to do it? Because I don't have the effort to do it." And she basically goes "You need to just push yourself. You cant get help unless you want the help" but that wasnt what I asked?

I find it so weird that we say things like that to someone who's already not doing well. Motivation is near impossible to find when you are that depressed and finding it before you start doing those things is important or you just wont. The idea of "Just push yourself" feels just as impossible as if you were to just tell me to be happy. I cant. I'm not sure how. I feel stuck.

And I'm sure I'm not the only one. It didnt make me feel good to say "You just don't want help" I think that's such a bad thing to say to someone. I know its work but it's not an answer. I feel so out of control, how does one take that control back? Feel the energy to actually wake up and do things?