#hard to hide. but i also have an appointment coming up to get an IUD so the doctors would notice and then im fucking toast.

[genekies]

tag vent: sh, ed

[chiarrara]

'can't do anything' disorder log, day 11,101:

can't focus on watching figure skating competition. keep pausing to scroll aimlessly on my phone, or compulsively respond to strangers comments on a youtube video

ate once hours ago. teeth have really been acting up the last few days, hurt all the time. I have headaches every day. maybe someday I will go to a dentist.

noticed growth in the potential set of tumors on my breast. don't know if they're actually tumors. last time I went to a doctor he made me cry because he wouldn't examine my broken knee because it happened almost two years ago but I didn't make my follow up appointment back then because I fell into a fugue state after my psych randomly retired so i lost access to medication for 'can't do anything' disorder which caused my entire life to blow up in a really messy public way, which caused me to lose my job and my insurance, and put me in serious legal trouble! which I'm still currently in.

he said the "insurance wouldn't pay for an mri" anymore since i broke it so long ago. i still don't exactly know what broke. he also wouldn't refill my adhd medication because I said I smoked weed occasionally. I stopped smoking for 6 weeks but my appointment got cancelled when i went back because 'cant do anything' disorder made me 10 minutes late. I didn't go to any of the referrals he made because the emotional trauma kept me from motivating myself over the barriers in the way of me ever leaving the house. also, I never got the referral for the growths on my skin. that are growing.

started spotting again because I'm 5 months overdue on getting my iud removed and replaced. the memory of the unmedicated pain i was in getting it put in 7 years ago is the barrier keeping me from overcoming all the other barriers this time. If I start having my period again, I'm afraid I'm gonna start experiencing serious dysphoria. also my cramps used to be pretty debilitating.

i barely shower. my hair is unmanageable due to a few really bad improvised haircuts and the fact that I'm laying down nearly 100% of the time. i can't do basic chores. the house is a mess like always, and has a million expensive problems going unresolved. my dad has just as many problems as me so they're not getting fixed very quickly. but he did get the roof repaired finally, after two years of it leaking water into my room, causing allergenic mold to grow in the walls. I can't sleep in there anymore, and everywhere else is full of junk. I sleep on the couch. It's not doing good things for my hips and back.

Living here instead of sleeping on the floor in the living room of my sister's one bedroom apartment and hiding from maintenance everytime they come in because that building's roof is also leaking and keeps spilling buckets of water all over her stuff everytime it rains means I get to be with my cat though, and that makes me really happy. my relationship with my sister is very much on the rocks now though.

my personality sucks, I'm angry all the time, I'm realizing my lack of control over myself and constantly being in a reactive state (that's gotten much worse over the years) has ruined almost every single relationship I have, and like actually traumatized people who loved me. I don't know how to stop. therapy scares me, I used to do it a lot but it's so fucking flawed and last time I went to try a new person it put me in such a panic I didn't go back. I don't know how to get better. Every path seems too hard and I have gotten to a point where I don't believe in myself enough to try literally anything, so I'm rotting away on my dad's couch, doing nothing but being a drain on finances and making everyone's lives around me worse.

I know (finally) that if I actually manage to kill myself (this time) it wouldn't actually make anyone's lives better, they would all be traumatized instead and like even if it did provide relief to some extent it wouldn't outweigh the pain. but being alive and useless and mean and spiteful also isn't like a postive force, so. I guess I have to figure out how to stop sucking and figure out how to do something. to be a positive force in the lives of the people I love? that's way more challenging than fantasizing about killing myself though. probably way more rewarding too.

i hope i figure it out.

[samwrights]

Two Little Lines

Let’s just keep playing around with the pregnancy/baby theme, shall we? 😂😈 it’s going to be on the fluffier side, however, we are gonna sprinkle in some very mild NSFW. And we got real angsty with Kenma and we’re just gonna make em all real long. Sorry this took me a few days to do!

Kenma;

Let’s be honest, Kenma would be the cautious one that would more so plan for pregnancy.

Life’s going great for Kenma—great job, cushy life, hot wife??? How did he get so lucky?

Cause he’s cute af that’s how

He was finally ready to add another player to the party.

However, life can’t always be perfect and apparently neither can the two of you trying for a baby.

For the last year and a half now, Friday nights were your thing. No streaming, no work, no phone calls. You and Kenma—that’s it. And while he definitely had become very explorative in that time, every negative pregnancy test was wearing his drive down.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that Kenma isn’t a fan of going to the doctor, even to check on how his little swimmers are doing. “If it’s not meant to be, we’ll find another way.” But you could tell it was breaking his heart a little bit.

Frisky Friday’s became fragile Friday’s, in which the two of you really just cuddled in bed together, fireplace lit, and talked about hopeful dreams of finally having a child together, until one of you hopefully got in the mood.

Shit, this whole ordeal was even making your marriage rough. Kenma had been so hard on himself lately that he could barely look at you, which caused you to start to feel insecure, causing the both of you to fight.

It’s Friday night. No streaming, no work, and no phone calls. That was how it was supposed to be. But instead, Kenma is naked in bed atop the comforter, playing with his switch.

It’s pissing you off.

“I don’t know what you wanna do anymore, Kenma. Do you even want a family? Do you even want to be with me anymore?”

“Why would you even say that?” It’s Friday night. The two of you are supposed to be hanging out in bed, naked and just being together, not picking fights with each other. But since that seems to be the case, you see Kenma flush with anger.

“Maybe because you’re playing Animal Crossing instead of looking at me??” Your husband sighs before putting his switch on the night stand before taking down the loose knot that his hair typically resides in. He’s anxious. “You’re acting like I’m not upset about this too.”

As you’re talking to him, you cautiously clamber over him, your face filled with raw emotion. And, after being married for the better half of a decade, you can see what he’s feeling. Failure, distress, and pain were only the start of it. “Please, Kenma. One more time, and we’ll start looking at other options.”

Apparently one more time was all it took, according to the three pregnancy tests you’d taken a month later. Seeing those two little lines on one of the tests that your husband had bought in bulk sent your heart into palpitations. You were going to be a mom.

Kenma comes home from work that Friday—you decided to surprise him. “What do you want to do tonight Kenma?”

??? “Honey, it’s Friday. Don’t we usually...” he stops. Either you were giving up on trying, which you two would have discussed, or... “wait, you don’t mean...”

Holding up the positive pregnancy test, you begin to cry. Kenma does too.

“Baby Kozume has joined the party.”

Kuroo;

Only the two of you would get pregnant while having an IUD implant. Literally, that was just your luck. But it was still possible.

Which you had yet to tell Kuroo—at the moment you were thankful the two of you weren’t cohabitating yet because you were able to hide your unbearable morning sickness.

You were at least waiting to see your doctor to have your IUD removed before telling him, mostly out of fear but also because, if he did notice your morning sickness, you could pawn it off as symptoms of the removal.

You hoped that this wouldn’t take too long or as be as painful as it was going in, but then again you were going to be pushing a human out in nearly 8 months.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon; Kuroo has already finished classes for the day while you’re still out at your appointment. He did have a key to your appointment, but it was strange that you weren’t home considering you didn’t have classes.

He wasn’t gonna call you out on it though—Kuroo trusted you. Instead, he opted to just rummaging around your apartment, cleaning up dishes that were left standing in the sink and making lunch for the two of you.

The minute you walked through your door, the smell of his cooking wafted through the air and absolutely did not agree with you or the baby’s sense of smell. “Fuck,” you grit out before bolting to the bathroom to hurl.

??? = Kuroo.

“Babe? You okay?” Your response was more vomiting, which was apparent both by sound and by visual—you hadn’t even closed the door to the bathroom and Kuroo got to witness the scene clear as day.

In comfort, Kuroo rubs your lower back in an attempt to coax the remaining bile from your body. Disturbing, was the only way Kuroo could describe it, considering you rarely ever puked. In the last six years of dating, he’s only seen it once while you drunk.

When the nausea finally passed, Kuroo cleaned your face up with a warm rag before sitting you on his knee while he sat at the edge of the tub. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“That, actually.”

“What?” Kuroo’s a smart guy, however it took him a few minutes to decipher your two word puzzle. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I was gonna tell you today, actually. I just had to go get my IUD removed.” For a moment he’s stunned—the IUD was supposed to be nearly foolproof. But nearly is the key word.

“Babe, you’re pregnant! Holy shit, I gotta call Kenma and Bo and tell them they’re gonna be uncles!” 💀💀💀

“Sooo, you’re okay with it...?” After all, there was a reason you had chosen to go with an IUD after your guys’ last pregnancy scare two years ago.

After all, being a freshman in college wasn’t necessarily an ideal time to start a family.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He balks.

“Because we’re college students that still have another year to graduate?” You deadpan as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“And? Now we’re gonna be married college graduates with little baby Kuroo.” M a r r i e d?

“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, Tetsu.”

“What, you don’t wanna marry me?” For a minute, his face contorts with...confusion? Sadness? Anger? A myriad of all the above? “I’ve wanted to marry you since high school.”

“Is this a proposal?”

“The rings been in my gym bag since senior year.”

Akaashi;

Akaashi Keiji, contrary to popular opinion, was a real romantic.

Even as college students, while your focus should be on your studies, Akaashi never slacked on making you feel special and loved. He knew it, you knew it, and your poor neighbors that shared the wall between your bedrooms knew it.

Kinda made it awkward when the two of you would leave for class and you’d meet your neighbors’ eyes in the apartment hallway. But ya know, it is what it is.

Honestly, it’s too challenging not to go at it every day when your boyfriend is the sweetest, most endearing human to walk the planet.

But enough gushing about Akaashi. Four years into your relationship, you had never felt so off in your life. The last three weeks, all you wanted to do was sleep and eat, you couldn’t focus on anything at all. You couldn’t even have sex with Akaashi.

You know, your wonderful partner that you literally boned everyday? Yeah.

It felt like a permanent, three week PMS for a period that never came. Not that that was entirely abnormal for you—intense amounts of stress can throw off your menstrual cycle and stress was certainly no stranger to you.

But no. You knew your body and you knew it well. Something was wrong.

Just in case things went awry, you scheduled a doctor’s appointment with Keiji’s knowledge. After all, it could very well be nothing and there was no point in causing your man to worry.

“Miss, were you aware that you’re nearly six weeks pregnant?” 💀💀💀 obviously not, doc.

Not entirely convinced, whether because you’re a tad dense or because you really just don’t want to believe the doctor, you swing by a local drug store to grab a test. Just in case, like somehow the doctor would be wrong.

Thankfully, you get home before Akaashi is back from work for the evening, giving you the privacy of seeing your results with your own eyes. Even though you literally could go look at the results and notes from your doctors visit, but ya know.

You don’t even know how long you sat on the floor of your shared bathroom, just staring at the two little lines. You didn’t even realize Akaashi came home.

He calls your name, at first not necessarily concerned that the only light in the apartment was peeking from under the bathroom door. But with no answer, he calls out your name again. No answer. “Honey, is it okay if I come in?”

“Y-yeah?” You aren’t really sure how to answer. How the hell was Akaashi going to react? You guys didn’t have time for a kid?? You’re completely zoned out, staring blankly at the bathtub in front of you. Lowkey, you’re freaking out Akaashi.

Even more so when he sees your hand loosely cradling the pregnancy test—judging by your reaction, he knows what the result is. But he can’t think of anything to say, what is there even to say?

He’s not upset, no. Shocked? Obviously. Mad, not at all considering he’s just as much responsible. The “R” word is what triggers him.

Responsible, in the sense that in less than a year, the two of you were going to be parents. It swelled joy within him. While the two of still had yet to speak, Akaashi comes to your side, sliding down the wall to sit beside you before wrapping his arms around you.

“So, are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

[chilling-in-the-dark]

The Batboys Growing Up as Yanderes Part 2: Dick Grayson

This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, passiveness, death, murder, attempted rape (Not by Dick but still Its there. I will Italicize this scene so that you can read around it if you need to.), birth control tampering, forced pregnancy(?), kidnapping, and physical abuse. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.

As always, feedback is welcomed.

P.S I’m giving into temptation and posting this early, so enjoy this a day before it was scheduled.

Mrs. Wayne had been asking about having a child for over half a year, but Bruce was understandably nervous about the idea of fatherhood. Still, he’d also promised his wife that so long as she was good, she could have anything she’d ever want, and now she wanted a baby.

Once Bruce warmed up to the idea of having a kid, he and his wife found something out; Bruce wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse, but his wife was infertile.

Bruce had taken Mrs. Wayne out to Haley’s circus, the same one they’d gone to every year growing up, to try and help her forget about her condition even if it was just for the night. Bruce sometimes wondered if the trapeze being sabotaged that night was fate because his wife had gotten the child she wanted after all.

Dick had thought he was normal for most of his life, that he didn’t have any of Bruce’s tendencies, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Growing up in the circus, he’d never stayed in one place long enough to grow too attached to anyone outside of his family.

After coming to live with Bruce and his wife, Dick hadn’t met anyone he truly clicked with, sure he’d had friends in the superhero community, but none of them were people he could genuinely fall for, they were all too strong-willed.

When he was fourteen, Dick’s tendencies finely woke from their long slumber, because he’d at last seen someone who brought out the darkness in him.

When you transferred to Gotham Academy, you were one of the scholarship students. At first, you’d wanted to turn down the offer, because you’d been nervous about going to a school full of snobby rich kids. You Had heard the horror stories from other kids in your neighborhood who attended with the same scholarship, but you realized that this was your only opportunity to claw your way out of this godforsaken city.

You should have turned it down because you were going to meet a fate worse than the streets of Gotham, no, Dick Grayson was going to become obsessed with you, and there was no going back from that.

Dick thought you looked like a cute little mouse the way you shuffled about the school, trying your best to be invisible as you made your way through the halls, but that just made you more conspicuous.

The kids here walked with their chins held high and posture so stiff it looked like someone had replaced their spine with a steel pipe. They didn’t tuck their chins down and clutch their textbooks to their chests like a shield.

It started out slowly with dick watching you shuffle around the school, you were so painfully shy, he would have felt bad if it weren’t so cute. None of the other kids would mess with you, though, or really even talk to you because the glares Dick sent them could rival Batman’s.

At least that’s what Dick thought until he heard you scream,  he ran to the sound, and when he rounded the corner in the boy’s locker room, Dick found the worst slimeball in school trying to stuff his hand down your pants while his buddies pinned you to the ground. They’d stuffed a dirty gym sock in your mouth to prevent any more screams from leaving your throat.

As Dick watched tears well in your eyes he realized that for the first time in his life, he truly and completely wanted to kill someone, you were his, even if they didn’t know it yet, heck you didn’t know it yet, but you were, and no one was allowed to touch you. These boys were about to learn that the hard way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dick’s voice echoed menacingly around the locker room. You’d seen him around but had never had a conversation with him, then again, you could have said the same of the boys who held you down now.

“Only having some fun with the little scholarship bitch who doesn’t realize the only way she’ll be able to leave the gutter is by laying on her back. If you keep your mouth shut, I might even let you have a turn.” Dick punched him in the jaw, not even thinking about how he was going to cover this up, but you were his damn it, he wasn’t going to let anyone else touch you.

It was all he could do not to kill them then and there, but no, that would have to wait until nightfall when he could put all of the skills he learned from Batman to use. The next day three bodies would be found, with one of them missing a hand, but all of them nearly torn to shreds making identification impossible. Dick had been careful in making sure no one could track it back to him.

As much as Dick hated the idea of other guys touching you, at least one good thing had come out of it, in his opinion. You started clinging to him and following him around like your life depended on it. Also, you jumping whenever another guy came within five feet of you was a perk.

Determined to make the most of this, he started acting like your guardian angel, and of course, you fell for him, how could you not. Dick was sweet and charming, always respectful of your boundaries, or so you thought anyway. It wasn’t long before you started dating, and Dick couldn’t have been any happier, he’d even gone all old school and given you his class ring. Was mine the only school that had freshmen buy class rings? Sure, it was more of a way to mark you as his, but still, if someone didn’t know about Dick’s tendencies, it would’ve been sweet.

The next few years of your life passed quickly, and Dick kept up the act of the sweet boyfriend you thought he was. That is until the two of you were seventeen, and you’d let it slip that you wanted to go-to metropolis for college.

It had taken everything in him to bite back his temper. No, if he wanted you to stay around, he needed to play this smart; he couldn’t just take you, unlike with Mrs. Wayne, someone would notice if you went missing. So, Dick came up with a plan, one that would likely get you disowned by your family, and if he was lucky, keep you by his side forever.

All he had to do was tamper with your birth control, and if you think being on some kind of IUD or implant is going to keep you safe your wrong, Dick isn’t against drugging you to remove it and replace it with a fake. If you insist on him using condoms, well, it’s not too hard to poke holes in them.

It isn’t long before you come to Dick with tears in your eyes and tell him the words he’d anxiously been waiting to hear. “I’m pregnant,” Dick shoves down the sick surge of satisfaction that wells up in him when your voice cracks. Now wasn’t the time to let his cover slip, he had to play this right.

It was time to put all of those acting skills Bruce had him learn to use. He did his best to look nervous, he bit down on his lip for a second as if thinking what to say when really, he’s had this planned from the moment, he decided to get you pregnant. “It’s all going to be ok, sure we're a bit young, but Bruce was already married by the time he was our age, I’m sure we can figure this out.” Dick wrapped his arms around you before continuing. “I mean a baby isn’t the worst thing in the world, is it?”

“But what about college Dick, this could ruin our futures.” Dick brought you into a hug to conceal the satisfied gleam in his eyes, ruining your future had been a part of his plan.

He made gentle cooing noises as you sobbed into his shoulder, clutching him like your world depended on it. It had taken a bit of convincing, but you, being his submissive little mouse, had agreed to keep the baby.

Sometimes during the first trimester, when you were trying your best to hide the symptoms of early pregnancy and come up with excuses to cover for your frequent Doctors’ appointments, Dick felt the slightest tinge of guilt. He’d done this to you, you didn’t want it, he knew that, but he’d done it anyway.

That feeling was quickly replaced by the surge of possessive pride he felt when he remembered that it meant the baby was always going to tie the two of you together, your DNA and his intertwined for generations to come.

The oh my god, what have I done feeling stayed around a little longer the first time he heard the baby’s heartbeat, but then there was also amazement because there was really a little human growing inside of you. He was going to be a dad. He wanted a little boy with his hair and your eyes.

Before Dick knew it, you were twelve weeks along and starting to get a baby bump. You were freaking out while trying to figure out how to tell your folks. Dick knew that he’d have to stage telling Bruce to keep you from getting suspicious, but his mentor already knew, because A he’d helped Dick with his initial plan to get you pregnant and B, he was Batman.

When you’d finally gotten to the point where you couldn’t hide your pregnancy anymore, the two of you arranged a sit-down dinner in a popular restaurant with your parents and The Wayne’s both being in attendance. You’d been hoping they wouldn’t make a scene in public, boy had you been wrong.

Dick pulled you into his arms as your parents screamed at you about how you were destroying your life over a guy, one who’d probably leave you before the baby was even born. Then they gave you an ultimatum, get rid of it, or don’t come home. It was only a stern glare from Bruce that kept Dick from flying across the table.

Yes, this was all going according to plan, but that didn’t mean he wanted you to cry, only he was allowed to upset you, and even he drew the line at doing so while you were pregnant. When your parent’s shrieks turned toward Dick, how they’d never liked him, that they knew something was off with him and how they wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten you pregnant on purpose.

After that night, you had come to live at Wayne Manor with Dick, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic then the first morning he’d woke with you by his side where you belonged. At least that’s what he thought until he was holding his newborn daughter in his arms.

When the nurse handed her to him, all thoughts of wanting a son evacuated themselves from his mind because she was absolutely perfect. She had a full head of black hair, along with your mouth, Dick's nose, and his mother’s eyes, which had made him want to cry the first time she looked up at him. You’d named her Mary in honor of Dick's late mother.

You’d tried to leave Dick after you’d heard him talking to her about how he’d been so glad everything had gone as planned. Your mouth had gone dry when you realized your parents were right about him, he wasn’t a good man, no he was insane. Dick Grayson was no better than the Villains he fought.

So, one night when he’d gone out on patrol, you’d slipped and tried to pack for both yourself and your six-month-old because there was no way you were leaving Mary in the custody of this maniac. Just as you were about to pick her up and make a break for it, Dick came up behind you.

You felt his anger as it permeated the air, sending a chill up your spine, slowly you scooped Mary up and turned around to see your boyfriend standing there in his vigilante gear while looking at you like he was contemplating all of the horrible things he wanted to do to you. This was the first time you’d been truly afraid Dick might hurt you. You couldn’t believe you’d ever let him within five-hundred feet of you.

“Where do you think you’re going,” Dick's voice was colder than you’d ever heard it before, then again, you’d never tried to leave before either.

“I thought you were supposed to be on patrol?” You asked, trying and failing to divert the subject.

“I was,” Dick growled, “but Alfred called and said he saw you packing, so I rushed right home.” Dick ripped his mask off, throwing it across the room. You shouldn’t have been surprised Alfred was in on this. “I’m only going to ask you this nicely one more time, where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m leaving Dick,” Your voice was strained as you fought to keep from trembling.

“No,” Dick barked moving to stand closer to you

“I heard you talking to Mary the other day, and I’m not letting my daughter grow up with a father who thinks that it’s ok to impregnate his teenage girlfriend, because she wants to make a better life for herself.” Mary sensing your fear started letting out tiny whimpers, this brought her father’s attention to her for the first time since he’d entered the room.

“Put Mary down,” Dick ordered, not wanting his daughter to get hurt in the crossfire.

You’d tried to refuse, but Dick wasn’t having it, he’d forced your daughter from your arms, and while he’d been gentle with her, he didn’t offer you the same courtesy. He lay Mary in her crib, making soothing noises as he did so.

As soon as she was no longer in his arms, Dick’s rage returned to him as he grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you out of the room and down the halls, not caring one bit if he hurt you.

It wasn’t long before you were thrown into a room, you’d never seen before. Your upper body collided with the bed in a way that you were sure would leave bruises for weeks.

“Maybe some time by yourself will give you an opportunity to think about how good you’ve had it up until now.” With that last statement, Dick slammed and locked the door.

Tags

@yanderepeterparker​​​

@idkmanicantenglish​​​

@prettyafghan

Grow up as only

@neon-phosphorecsent​​

[hannahswanviscom]

A facebook account of infertility

https://www.herfamily.ie/pregnancy/couples-heartbreaking-infertility-story-made-us-cry-243738

“Do you have a minute? I’ve got kind of a long story.

Leah and I have been trying to get pregnant for over 3 years. I’m not sure when, exactly, we stopped the birth control. Like all our plans, we didn’t start with a plan, but instead decided that if we got pregnant, that would be great.

And then we didn’t get pregnant.

I mean, look, when you’re in your twenties, it feels like you can’t look at someone else without getting pregnant. We’ve all heard about someone who got pregnant through 2 condoms, spermicidal lubricant, and an IUD. Right? But we didn’t get pregnant. No big deal.

We’re in our 30s. Things are probably a little bit dusty, and a little bit rusty. So, three years ago, we started using apps and calendars to track this and that. Ovulation test sticks. Old wives’ tales of positions and timing. We got some late periods. And some periods that never came!

But we didn’t get pregnant.”

So, off to the doctor we went. His and hers appointments for collections of blood and semen and measuring parts and such. Medical science being what it is, we got the answer to all our problems: ‘You’re fine, and there shouldn’t be a problem.’

Do doctors ever tell anybody, ‘This is what is wrong, and this is how to fix it,’ and then give them pills, and they’re fine? This is not my experience.

We didn’t get pregnant.

So then came the hormones for Leah. Along with those hormones came the realization that little-to-none of this would be covered by insurance, and that the coverage rate would go down as we went deeper into the process. See, insurance companies look at getting pregnant a lot like getting sick. Why, they can’t imagine, would you try to get sick? Well, f**k you, insurance companies. That’s why.

But we didn’t get pregnant.

So maybe we’re bad at timing, or something, or god knows. Usually that’s fine, but we are in our late 30s, and clocks are ticking. The doctor told us that certain hormone levels were low, lower than they should have been, and that meant our egg supply was dwindling.”

Let me tell you something. There is nothing you can tell a woman that will make her feel more young, beautiful and vibrant than, ‘You have a dwindling egg supply, and it is time to pick up the pace.’  You should try it. Maybe at a bar.

And that was when we began IUI, intrauterine insemination. IUI is – colloquially – the turkey baster method. When they told us about it, I tried to really hear what the doctor was saying, but all I could hear echoing around the room, off of the oyster-y pearlescent floors and the alien-vagina wallpaper, was ‘dwindling.’

For Leah, we eventually figured out, this meant a regimen of hormone boosters to facilitate egg production. Are you aware of what happens to people when their hormones go out of the norm? They are not happy. Unless they are happy, in which case, they are very happy. There is no mild. There is no average day. Her job was to feel like her brain and soul were on fire.

My job was to try and not say anything dumb, because she also needed to be calm. I tried to avoid triggering phrases like ‘Hey,’ or ‘Good morning,’ or ‘I love you,’ but I kept f**king up, and opening my mouth, or allowing Leah to see TV programs, or commercials, to read books, and interact with the world in any way.”

“The best was when someone would ask her when we were going to have kids. That was just the best.

Then, after one or two ultrasounds to make sure eggs were there, and in their right places on their little follicles, I would give my needle-phobic wife a shot in her thigh to set ovulation in process. She says she’s not so much afraid of needles as she is afraid of being stuck by me with a needle, but same difference, right?

Over time, I developed a method where she would look away, close her eyes and cry, while crushing all the bones in my left hand, and I would count to three, and inject her with my right. I wouldn’t inject her on three. I tried to pick a random time. She usually didn’t even feel it.

After all that romance, you would think that abstaining from sex for a few days would be hard, but you would be wrong. You might also think we should be having massive amounts of sex, but it turns out that you have to let your seminal stash build up for a few days before collection.”

“Over the last couple years, I became pretty professional about my sperm deposits. My first one was a few paragraphs up, for testing. Man, is it ever weird. You can do it at home if you want, but then you are under a clock to get your sample to the lab on time. I don’t need that kind of stress.

I don’t talk about it much, but I like to think I’m pretty good at taking care of business in the art of sperm production, but I had never entered a room designed specifically for masturbation, while people waited outside, hoping my masturbation went okay. Perhaps that is what Eddie Murphy’s life was like in Coming to America, but I was less familiar with it.

The room was like a combination of a hotel room and an office. It had a big picture of The Ohio State University football stadium, filled with fans, on the wall over a small vinyl sofa. There was a neatly folded sheet, fresh and crisp, hanging on the far armrest. A clock radio on the side table, tuned to local political talk radio, sputtering away beneath a low-lit lamp, was paired with a little wooden cube that had one tiny drawer, specifically made for storing your collection cup.

Under the table were four or five magazines that I didn’t really want to touch. Usually two Playboys, a Penthouse, and a Swimsuit Issue. Across from the couch was a TV/DVD combo with a DVD preloaded. I didn’t want to touch the remote either, really. It sat on a wicker chest.

Wicker struck me as the worst possible material for a room designed for male masturbation. Everybody’s aiming for the cup, I know, but I also know there have been enough accidents in that office that it required a laminated sign about what to do in case of an accident.”

“The first step, in case of an accident, is to not try to hide it by scraping your mess into the cup. Big no-no. This makes your sample corrupt, which may mean that your partner could end up being impregnated by carpet fibers if I understand correctly, but it is also unsanitary.

The second step is to tell the front desk staff that you had an accident, which seems horrific. The people who work at the lab are people who, by my calculations, deal with upwards of 80 men per day who have just masturbated, or are about to, and their sperm. Sure. They are professional.

But, still, everyone is a little bit tittery, a little bit anxious. We all know that this is all very silly, and that I just touched my penis, and you are someone’s grandmother, and that even though you have a pin in the shape of a little sperm fella to help break the tension, we all – if we really had the choice – would probably prefer to burst into flames than discuss any part of this, let alone the fact that someone missed. Whoops!

The DVD would change over time, but still be of the same variety. Usually some kind of early 90s Eurotrash boat fantasies, or oily faux-lesbian scissorhands scenes, starring fingernails that made me very nervous. I would check every time I went in, and it was always awful. Everybody’s got their thing, I guess. My thing is that I am thankful for the Internet.

Oh. And you are supposed to go in dry if you can help it. Lubrication, as it turns out, can mess with the quality of the semen, which seems like a pretty big jerk move on the part of lubrication.

But, yeah, I’ve got my routine down.

When your sample has been washed and spun, or whatever it is they do with it, they put it in a paper bag that you carry over to the doctor’s office for the procedure. We long-timers can always tell the new couples. Their discomfort and optimism is cute. They smile and look around on their walk, hoping no one notices the bag they have pinched in their fingertips.

Me, I carry my paper bag like a sack lunch. The same turkey sandwich I’ve had every day for years. With hope, yes, but the skepticism of routine. The IUI itself is pretty quick, and from what I understand, painless, if not the normal amount of demeaning of going to an OB/GYN. You get one more ultrasound to make sure everything is in place, and then they pour the gravy all over the giblets.

Sorry. I know. I’m hung up on turkey metaphors.

And then we wait.”

“You’re warned against taking pregnancy tests because they measure hormone levels, and after taking all sorts of weird shit all month, you can trigger a false positive. So you wait. And there will be spotting. Is it spotting, or is her period starting? You don’t know. So you wait. And you wait. And you wait.

And sometimes her period comes, and you start over. Step one. And sometimes it doesn’t come. But the second line doesn’t appear, or the plus, or the whatever these tests do. So you wait. And it’s negative, but you hope, and you see your friends getting pregnant, and you get a little sad. But you get mad at yourself because you want to feel happy for other people, and that’s not fair to them. And then the 17-year-old across the street gets pregnant, and you get a little sadder. And your cousins get pregnant, and you get a little sadder.

And you see people scream at their kids, and beat them in Kroger, and you just want to die because you would give anything to have a child throwing a tantrum in the cereal aisle.

You don’t want to hate people. You don’t. I think babies are beautiful. I think kids are awesome, but you can’t help the jealousy. The envy. The resentment. It really creeps up on you. And you search for positive things. And you talk on end about your capital-O Options.”

“And then you see people on the internet post screeds about how dare anyone assume that they would want to have kids because not having kids is the best – which is fine, have at it or don’t have at it, I really don’t care – but we want to be procreating, and we want what you could have, but are choosing not to use.

And we want to tell you, but people don’t talk about it. Because you don’t want to talk about it.

Because you spend all day thinking about it, managing it. Trying not to cry. Trying to not turn into HI and Ed from Raising Arizona, stealing babies in the night.

And the doctors start talking about Next Steps, and the Next Steps are very expensive, so you try it one more time. And then, while you’re in Kansas on a road trip with a friend, your wife does the IUI with a frozen deposit you left behind.

And you get pregnant.”

“You go in for a blood test, two weeks later, and they tell you that you’re pregnant. And you cry. Big fat tears of relief. And then you freak out because, to be honest, you talked yourself out of real hope months and months ago, but now you have to get ready for a baby.

Some weeks later, you go in for an ultrasound, and there it is. I mean, yeah, it’s a tadpole with a giant head. There’s its brain, and there’s its heart fluttering away, and it’s so real.

And you relax.”

“We’re in our late thirties, which means that the chances are higher than average that a pregnancy won’t be viable, or there will be a chromosomal abnormality, or something along those lines. We spent a lot of time tiptoeing around that idea, but we talked about it. And about not getting too excited. You know, the higher you let your hopes up, the further they have to fall. But they told us to relax. Everything looked great and we were on track, so when we went in for one final scan before being released to our obstetrician a couple weeks later, we were all smiles and jokes.

‘I’m so sorry. I can’t find the heartbeat.’ …

And then you’re not pregnant.”

“I’ve felt time stop before. Car accidents, falling off a fence, a mountain bike jump gone wrong. I have not felt the vertigo of infinity like when we were told our baby was dead. I’m logical. I understand science and biology. I know it was a fetus, not a baby. But it was my baby. In my head, in my heart, I could already imagine being old as it grew into an adult and had its own children, and – woosh – it was all gone.

As I write this, the due date is a little over a week away, like a car accident on the road ahead that you’re trying not to look at, that you have to drive by. The world isn’t going to stop. We all get up and go to work. Because it happens. People lose babies all the time.

Miscarriage.

But no one talks about it. No one gets on Facebook and tells their friends. It’s specifically why you wait to tell anyone.

But then you have no one to tell. When a family member dies, you can share your grief. With a miscarriage, you would have to tell people that someone who will never be born, who they had never heard of and will never meet, but who meant the world to you, is gone. And you don’t have the strength to get into it. You tell your parents, maybe a close friend, maybe your boss. I was so stunned when it happened that I texted my boss that I wouldn’t be back that day, but that I’d be back the next, which really cracks me up now. I didn’t even get how I was about to be affected.

Leah was scheduled for a D&C, dilation and curettage, under general anesthesia at Christ Hospital right away, so she wouldn’t have to go through the trauma of slowly passing the fetal tissue over the course of a week. It wasn’t until they took her back that I let myself break down. Alone with my worst thoughts and the sour coffee of the waiting room for several hours. God, I have no idea how long. One more forever.

The people at the hospital were excellent. We got a lot of information about support groups that we never went to, but we should have. We just wanted to hide. I’m thankful for our families and our friends, who came to sit with us. Who brought Lea the things she needed, and let me get out of the house to walk around the neighborhood. I must have looked like a zombie.”

“It’s very difficult to think about, even now. I don’t think I’m doing a good job of describing it. I don’t want to dwell on it. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t think it was until around the New Year that I went a day without crying about it.

But, you know, you pass the car accident and it’s in the rear view, getting further away, and sometimes you don’t even see it anymore. Maybe you’ve told yourself enough times that “at least we know we can get pregnant” and “this just means that something was wrong and it’s a good thing.” Maybe you even believe it.

Just to let you know how strong Leah is, she still made the Dean’s List that semester, and she was carrying 18 credit hours. I dropped out of college for the dumbest reasons in my time – once because I got mugged – but she persevered. Like Britney, bitch.

We started back at the fertility process too soon, in a dumb burst of optimism and courage, and the desire to move forward. The hormone treatments were too much for Leah. And the lack of success was too much for the both of us. So we stopped. Our doctor told me, privately, that we need to take care of ourselves, but that, if we want to have a baby, we either need to move forward now, or start discussing Next Steps.

Remember: Dwindling.”

“We tried a couple more times, one of which felt good – we thought we had it – and were told that if this one doesn’t take, that we would need to increase hormone treatments substantially and begin planning for options outside of IUI. In Vitro, surrogacy, or something else.

The doctor also told us, during one IUI, that while Donald Trump scares him, his wife loves Trump because of the Mexican wall thing. They are both immigrants. His problem with the wall was that it would be impossible to pay for it. I don’t know. Doctors tell you some crazy shit while they’re inseminating your wife.

Through this process, and through both of our lives, neither of us have ever had a home pregnancy test come out positive. Even when we were pregnant before, it was the doctor who did a test. This last one, Leah couldn’t bear to look at it herself, so I looked at it while she was in the shower, and told her no, that it was negative.

While she stood there, crying, I googled ‘pregnancy test faint line.’ As it turns out, even the faintest f**king line in the whole f**king world means you’re pregnant. So we’re pregnant.

We’re pregnant.”

“Not that we believed it at first, but we are. Three scans later, I’ve even heard the heartbeat, like a hummingbird, and it’s beautiful.

As I write this, tomorrow is our first obstetrician appointment, and we’re so nervous. So, so nervous. I wouldn’t dare to post this until we’re in the clear enough, and ready to tell people. Almost no one knows right now. We’re worried to jinx it, us, we, who don’t believe in jinxes. Mostly, we’re afraid of going back through the pain. To have to retract it, publicly, is too much to think about.

I know plenty of people have gone through more than us. We are comparatively very lucky. Some people have never gotten pregnant. Some people could not go as far as us. Some people have taken many Next Steps beyond where we were. Some have been successful, but many haven’t. I hesitate to share this because I don’t want anyone to read this and feel what we felt, watching others’ dreams come true. Some people have found out, or have guessed, and have been very kind to share their own stories with us, and it has helped tremendously to not feel alone. Many thanks to all of them. I hope that maybe this helps someone else feel less alone.

And I hope that everything goes well, and I can inundate you with pictures, starting in November. …

Everything went well. Arms and legs and moving around. We’re very excited, but I’ll be holding my breath for 26ish weeks. And it’s a girl. Not that gender matters! But we’re going to have a little girl! And I am stoked. We are stoked.

We are pregnant.”

[bobateatree]

I haven’t written here in a long time. This is long and sad. I’ve definitely been called “Eeyore” before, so read with caution. Also, triggers and such.

It’s almost midnight on a Saturday and I’ve been tired for at least four hours. I don’t want to go to sleep. I’m too young to be tired on a night like this.

After I grabbed drive-thru breakfast with Tim this morning, I went home and showered before my OB/GYN appointment. My IUD looks normal. It’s such a relief. When I got home, I watched a block of Will & Grace on TV before mowing the lawn. I broke something in our backyard but my mom fixed it with duct tape (bless). I took another shower and now I’m here on my computer, where I’ve been the past few hours.

Tim is going to a kegger with his friends tonight where they’ve requested he play Voodoo Child by Jimi Hendrix on the guitar (”just like old times, they said”). After giving me an outline of all the possible scenarios (who will be there, how long he’ll be staying there, if he’ll stay the night, the possible fist fight that someone will start, etc.), I’ve opted to just wait for a text that will tell me if it’s worth coming. I’m already so sleepy, so even if I get a green light, I think I’ll have passed out at that point.

The irony is so thick. I have such bad FOMO for things like these (i.e., not partying enough at this time in my life), that when an opportunity finally comes, I’m just too tired.

I’ve felt lots of lows before: the stressed from school lows, the stressed from my dad leaving lows, the stressed from finishing college and becoming an adult lows. But this is unlike anything I’ve ever really felt before. It’s so...real? Not that the other ones haven’t been real, but this one is so close and tight and it just follows me constantly. The other lows I’ve been able to successfully hide, block, and/or numb. Not this time around. Oh, no.

So a lot of things have happened within the past calendar year. It’s been almost a full seven months since things have blown up, but have I recovered in those seven months? Absolutely not. Strap in!

Let’s start with my brother (this will be all about him, by the way; if he ever finds this blog, hi!). He started dating this girl, and then he moved her in without directly asking my mother if it was okay that some person he just began to date lived in her own house without ever really leaving. As soon as I noticed what was happening, I became extremely resentful and angry. I hope you can tell where this will be going. This began toward the end of 2015.

After a few months of this girl not leaving to ever go to her parent’s home (which is a long and harrowing 15 minutes away), only going there to move more of her things into my home, I became even more angry. Every time I tried to bring this up in conversation with my brother, he would talk over me, denounce me, belittle me--things older brothers love to do to their little sisters, at least that’s what mine does. It was a losing battle for me. My mother said she didn’t care, but I knew she did.

Oh, did I mention that my brother’s girlfriend never bothered paying rent when she lived in my home for a full year? Now’s a good time to mention that.

Throughout 2016, I was out of the house as much as I could possibly be. I did a lot of cool things, the majority of them away from home. I went to beer fests, concerts, musicals, and overall spent a lot of time in the city. I even took all four of us downtown one day when it was my brother’s birthday. It was a great time. I even got kicked out of a bar celebrating my own birthday, which was amazing and something I never want to do again.

Anyway. I was a 23 year old doing 23 year old things. Not really doing any harm, right?

Well, here’s the thing. My brother smoked weed 24/7, and eventually quit his job to do just that. All him and his girlfriend did was smoke weed and watch cartoons all day while my mom and I went to our full time jobs. At this point, toward the end of 2016, neither my brother nor his girlfriend were working (for reference, my brother is in his mid-30′s while his girlfriend is in her late 30′s). As a 23 year old, this angered me even more. But when I’m angry, I sit quietly and boil.

This is where shit hit the fan. My brother became manic around the 2016 holidays and would never, ever stop talking, rarely sleep, and had all these crazy get rich quick schemes because hard work is for people who don’t want to stop smoking weed and watch cartoons all day. And on Christmas Day, I said I wanted to kill myself because he pointed out that nothing I could do would make our mom happy (she’s been struggling in every way--mentally, emotionally, financially--ever since my dad left).

He proceeded to viciously scream at me and threaten to call the cops. I ran to the bathroom crying. He was going to his girlfriend’s family’s get together that day while I was bringing Tim to my family’s. He ignored me the rest of the day. When I had left for the evening, I slammed the door in his face.

Cue beginning of 2017. The manic episode continues for my brother. I would be followed around, relentlessly bullied, screamed at, etc. His lack of filter was piercing. In his mind, by obsessively bullying me to spend time with him, he thought he was helping me. I was actively avoiding him and his girlfriend because I didn’t want to be around 30-something potheads. He took notice and became even angrier with me. I later realized he was trying to control me, and responded badly when he couldn’t do that.

Also--by this time, I loaned him a lot of money so he could buy a car. I also loaned his girlfriend money for her bills. Surprise, surprise: my brother did not end up buying a car; he told me all the money went to fixing his girlfriend’s piece of shit car (he told me a lot of things he did with money I loaned him up to this point; looking back, I know he was clever in saying the money I let him borrow always went to helping someone else, instead of drugs, where it actually went).

Did I make a mistake loaning two shameless potheads lots of cash? Absolutely. Did I do my best to give them the benefit of the doubt because I tried to see the best in people? Yes. Because of this, will I ever loan people money again? Probably not, and that sucks.

So by early 2017, I was out a thousand dollars by two people living in my home who were essentially being irresponsible teenagers masquerading as 30-somethings with a purpose in life. Things were getting so bad at home that I looked forward to going to work every day because no one would be following me around, screaming at me, and/or asking me for money with a new creative excuse every time.

My brother would also make sure to relentlessly scream at my mother for hours at a time, for no reason at all. My mom once kicked him and his girlfriend out one evening for one of these instances, and his girlfriend started crying in her car because she was so hungry. I mean, all she wanted to do was eat dinner while her boyfriend was obsessively screaming in his own mother’s face. What was the problem? (I unfortunately was not home this evening, my mom called me and told me about it after those two were finally out of the house).

When my brother finally picked up that I didn’t want to be around him at all, he once aggressively wondered why I didn’t want to do drugs with him and why I didn’t like him anymore. This was on our way to a family party. I did not want to talk about it. (Also, while being super aggressive, he asked me why I acted like he was always attacking me. Well, JEEZ, I don’t know! I said I didn’t like being forced into conversation which was his favorite fucking thing to do to everyone around him).

And then, the inevitable happened. After all the screaming, the yelling, the aggression, the drug use, the disrespect, the lack of filter--my mom had enough. She finally kicked out my brother and his girlfriend. The day they were moving out, they tormented my mother the entire day while I was at work. They made her life hell for a full eleven hours.

After my mom could access a phone, she told me what was happening in real time. I have never been more angry in my entire life. My inner pot of hot boiling water exploded. I came home and screamed in my brother’s and his girlfriend’s faces. He responded by shoving me to the ground.

Drug addicts hate when you treat them the same way they’ve been treating you.

I think it’s only fair to point out that I wasn’t an angel; I was definitely mean at times. When my brother’s girlfriend would walk into the kitchen, I would glare at her when I thought she couldn’t see me (apparently she could?). When she tried talking to me, I wouldn’t look her in the eye. When I asked her to stop touching my things when she would be sitting inside my home when I was at work (she would share pictures on Facebook of my living room, for example, with items rearranged because aesthetic? I don’t, know, it was stupid just like she is), I could tell she didn’t like that.  But I didn’t like that some stranger was living in my home, not paying rent, while I was working extra hard specifically to not be in this space she got to enjoy as a luxury. She even coaxed a 23 year old into loaning her money for her bills, as previously mentioned. She was living the dream!

There’s a lot that happened after the initial move out. It was a hot mess of them couch surfing at friend’s homes (who I brought up to speed as fast as I could; needless to say, the kindness from their friends dried up quickly) and eventually ending up in a motel (and coming back to my home, multiple times, unannounced, begging for money to stay a couple more nights there), and that’s where the begging ended. At one point they returned my mom’s stolen cell phone, which was the last “nice” thing they did.

It’s finally ended with my brother and his girlfriend blocking both me and my mom on Facebook. After this, my brother’s friends told me that he wrote a super long status about how awful me and my mom are. I wish I could’ve seen some screenshots.

Drug addicts love to rationalize in opposites.

I haven’t seen or heard from either of these people in...going on seven months. I honestly don’t know where they are or what they’re up to. I also haven’t seen my dad in four years. I hate how life has shown me that family can be so awful. Family is supposed to be the group of people in your life that’s not supposed to treat you this way.

At this point, I began to think of how my future wedding will look. Family is supposed to love you, right? But how can your family love you if...

I still need to make an appointment for a therapist because I still want to kill myself sometimes. Just when I thought I couldn’t handle more negativity, harassment, and abuse--bam! More shows up.

I just needed to get this all out, at least through this medium. Maybe if it’s all down, I’ll stop constantly thinking about these things in my mind when I should be focusing on the present. Because on the bright side, I’m no longer being lied to or screamed at by drug addicts who’ve said they love me, but didn’t actually mean it. And that’s something to be thankful for.

[niklii]

Another Round

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people.  (Thanks @augmentedampharos ! And yay for body positivity. Your “tmi” answer to that question made me smile haha.) 

LAST

Drink: milk with some concentrated coffee Mio. Also water cos I have a slight headache

Phone call: Trying! To! Make! A! Damn! Gynecologist! Appointment!!! I need a new health care clinic. :( For this one you can only make appts one day in advance and they always run out.. Gonna try again at 9:00. 

Text message: My friend at work texted me “Kanchan wants to know if you can get her some mustard”  lol

Song you listened to: Some random song on the radio. 

Time you cried: Watching “War for the Planet of the Apes” last Sunday! haha

HAVE YOU

Dated someone twice: um.. not sure how to answer this. I’ve only been in one relationship and there were no official breaks. 

Kissed someone and regretted it: yes! not my boyfriend though 

Been cheated on: ehm.. sorta? but no? some weird stuff happened in middle school and also last year but at the same time, we had agreed to some open relationship type stuff.. it just came out of nowhere and i didn’t find out about it til later. 

Lost someone special: Yes :( Johnny (DJ Nackt) in the Oakland fire last November, and my piano teacher from cancer last January. But no one in my family or anyone I have been extremely close with yet. 

Been depressed: Yes but never longer for a day. 

Gotten drunk and thrown up: nope!! this one I’m proud of. Never threw up from drugs or alcohol, only food poisoning and the flu... 

Made new friends: yes :) (s/o to @augmentedampharos for rekindling our friendship) 

Fallen out of love: from time to time but it never lasted. 

Laughed until you cried: yes!

Found out someone was talking about you: probably? i try not to remember ;) 

Met someone who changed you: hell yeah

Found out who your friends are: sure ? 

Kissed someone from your Facebook list: my boyfriend! also a few people from when we played Spin the Bottle during Vice haha. And a couple others.. 

Kissed a stranger: only if you count Vice, but even then, they weren’t a total stranger. I just didn’t know them that well. 

Drank hard liquor: sure ? 

Lost glasses/contact lenses: if i did, it was ages ago. 

Turned someone down: yeah but only a couple of times ? 

Sex on the first date: no!!! I was 12 on our first date. NOT READY

Broken someone’s heart: um I’m sure my bf has said this at one point. but he also broke my heart once or twice. we have since recovered (i think)

Had your heart broken: yep but I got over it

Been arrested: no lol

Cried when someone died: yes.. even with friends of friends. it’s too much. 

Fallen for a friend: yes! but i got over it (for now..)

Kissed on the first date: haha sure. It was the first time Andrew and I saw each other since we met! Not a date and my dad was there because I was 12 but it was a sweet little smooch when I came down from climbing a tree. 

GENERAL

List 3 favorite colors: blue, orange, pink ? (how did that happen??)

How many Facebook friends do you know in real life: probably 80% of them? Maybe 90%? No idea, I’ve never counted! 

Do you have any pets: no I don’t unless you count Andrew!! lmao 

Do you want to change your name: meh 

What time did you wake up: 7:00 but I was sooooo tired. not a good day to wake up at 7. :( 

What were you watching at midnight last night: my own dreams 

Name something you can’t wait for: swimming before the summer ends!! GO AWAY IUD SPOTTING

When was the last time you saw your mom: In June, when my cousin graduated high school 

What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: lose that belly of mine. But I wish I didn’t want it so much. :( I wish I could be happy with myself. 

What are you listening to right now: the sound of my own typing cos no one else is in the office yet... 

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Most Likely

Something that is getting on your nerves right now: This little headache I woke up with. probably was from the heat last night.

Most visited website: facebook T_T 

Mole/s: there’s a huge one right by my nether-regions.. i should get it looked at soon. 

Mark/s: tons of little dots on my arms and chest that aren’t qualified to be birthmarks or moles. also one on my head.. i should get it looked at. 

Childhood dream: being a rockstar B-) i’ve always wanted to sing 

Do you have a crush on someone: only my significant other right now! 

What do you like about yourself: I like the shape of my arms + hands + feet! although my boyfriend refused to call my feet sexy. I think they would be sexy feet if you were into that sort of thing. lmao 

if we’re talking non-physical stuff i also like my compassion and tendency to emote my feelings. I like feeling feelings. 

Piercings: only one ear for now, my other ear ate the piercing.. it was a weird day. I need to get it done again. THIS IS WHY I DIDNT BOTHER UNTIL I WAS 22. 

Blood type: I think when I donated I found out I was A+! like my high school grades ;) lmao 

Nickname: Nikki or H2O.. my bestie also called me Cole-Man.. I liked that one. 

Relationship status: practically married

Zodiac: taurus

Pronouns: she/her/hers

Favorite TV show: X-Files right now but also I am loving GLOW and Orange is the New Black. And Community. And Girls has a special place in my heart.. love that show to death.  You can’t make me choose!! 

Tattoos: i kind of want one but also.. i don’t like pain. 

Right or left hand: right

Surgery: only for a tooth implant

Hair dyed in different color: i used blue dye on part of my hair a couple times in college.. i want to do something like that again but also idk what my work would think. i guess i should ask. it’s not like we have the most formal environment 

Sport: tennis (rn). also Lindy Hop Dancing! I’m on a roll. 

Vacation: Iceland PLZ

Pair of trainers: I’m guessing they mean sneakers? So.. Vans for now. But also Docs and Converse 

Current and all-time best friend: Andrew and Woky are kind of tied. But Woky understands me more so sometimes she wins. But Andrew has my life devotion haha. 

Eye color: blue but sometimes they look grey

Favorite movie: blah Idk! I really love Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. and Amelie and some Wes Anderson movies.. 

WHICH IS BETTER?

Hugs or kisses: idk why but i love our hugs more! i feel like he MEANS IT. i guess i got worn down by kisses. 

Lips or eyes: eyes

Shorter or taller: I used to wish I was short so I could hide in more places when playing Hide-and-Seek. And also I wish my partner could pick me up all romantic-like.  But now I’m grateful I can reach things on shelves.

Nice arms or stomach: I’m a sucker for arms and hands

Sensitive or loud: sensitive

Hook up or relationship: relationship

Troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

Yourself: usually but I need to more.. I don’t went it comes to work (Mudd RUINED ME)

Miracles: maybe? 

Love at first sight: lust at first sight yes, love no. (stole that from Wendy)

Santa Claus: it’s a lie!! But I loved the idea growing up. yay presents

Thanks again Wendy for giving me something fun to do before I get real work done. xDD 

I tag.. @minikvelp @unfuckthereallife @ursaladarling @lumbercop @darkfire454 @brainshock-alpha @lightning-babe @eternal-flame-babby @mabonqueen And anyone else who likes these kinds of things!!