#housing and money are so unstable that one bad month at my job could put me out on the street

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Rx Queen

Pairing: criminal!Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: obsession, stalking, non-con, breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 2567. 

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes was the most difficult patient you had ever treated as a criminal psychiatrist. His release from prison doesn’t make things easier for you. 

_____________________________________ 

You turned off the phone and threw it on a chair, clenching your teeth. Whatever Dr. Strange wanted you to do, you wouldn’t stay another day in this goddamn place, waiting to be abducted or even murdered. It was too much. Today you found the new bottle of your favourite perfume on your nightstand. It wasn’t there before you went to bed last night. In fact, you could hardly remember the last time you bought yourself a perfume.

It all started two months ago when James Buchanan Barnes, the patient you had been working with during those seven long years, was finally released from State prison after serving 15 years of life sentence. The Soldier, as prisoners called him, once gone mad and murdered his commander. Bucky – that’s how he asked you to call him during your first seance – had PTSD, antisocial personality disorder, and severe depression. You could say he became better after all those years of treatment, including insane doses of antidepressants and mood stabilizers, but it was not enough to set him free. He was dangerous, psychotic even, yet devilishly clever: he knew how to portray a man who had reconsidered his life choices and deeply regretted taking someone’s life. 

You knew he had never truly cared. Patients like him did not have capacity for remorse.

You started treating him once you became a criminal psychiatrist; Bucky was among your very first patients. Now when you thought of it, you could hardly believe Dr. Strange just transferred a patient like him to you, a young girl with too little experience to handle an unpredictable psychopath hiding behind a façade of a victim. Of course, you made many mistakes, starting from telling Bucky about your own past and some mental issues. That time you believed you can gain trust of your patients by being more open about yourself. You were a complete idiot.

Now there was not much to do once his time in prison was up. You didn’t have true evidence to make him stay. A part of you wasn’t even sure you wanted it – when a riot had started in the prison three years ago, it was Bucky who shielded you with his own body from Brock Rumlow, a serial killer and your second most dangerous patient. Bucky was the only reason you were still alive.

But he was also the reason why you were leaving in haste, packing only necessities. 

It all started quite innocently with him sending you flowers and thanking for everything you had done for him. It didn’t alert you that he knew what your favourite flowers were. You thought it was just a coincidence since bouquets like these were sold in any flower shop in the city.

Then you stumbled upon him in a café where you often had your breakfast on weekends. It could alert you, but Bucky was sitting with a charming red-haired woman, her manicured hand resting on his thigh. She didn’t quite strike you as his sister, especially since you knew he had no relatives left after his violent father died in a car accident. Seeing such a beautiful woman with him just two weeks after Bucky was released from a prison was surprising, but you knew how seductively charming Barnes could be. Besides, he looked really good in his biker jacket, his tight black jeans showing his strong muscular legs.

In the end, you just talked to both of them a little and gave your advice on which dishes to choose. You walked away, praying you were wrong about Bucky and hoping he could settle peacefully like some of your former patients. Actually, even though many of them were imprisoned again, others were able to return to normal life. Some even had families now – from time to time you received thank-you notes with nice photos and many heartwarming words. It was probably one of the few things that made you keep your job.

It was over now. You were not going to stay in a place Bucky break into multiple times. Maybe you were not sure before, but the bottle of perfume was an obvious sign. It also meant that when a week ago you woke up and smell a man’s scent on your sheets you were not delirious. Bucky was there. He was laying beside you on your fucking bed.

How did it happen? Why didn’t you see his obsession growing with each day? You were his psychiatrist; you knew him better than anyone. How could he hide his infatuation with you for so long? Of course, you knew he had some feelings for you, but it was never that bad. You thought he would forget about you once he would be released. In the end, now you were not the only woman he saw around.

You kept stumbling upon his beefy figure more and more often. You realized Bucky was stalking you when after a month of his release you saw him watching your house from the forest. He was hiding behind the trees and bushes. It was a miracle you managed to see him at all – after 15 years he was still the Soldier, his skills remaining keen.

You tried talking to Dr. Strange. It wasn’t your first time being followed by your former patient, and police had always assisted you. But Barnes wasn’t like any of those stupid psychos who left tons of evidence behind them. Police had nothing to work with.

Well, you weren’t going to sit there and wait for Barnes to come and get you. You had no idea what was going on in his unstable mind, and you weren’t ready to take risks. You had already booked a flight to Austria tonight.

It was scary, thinking about wandering around a city you had never been, in a foreign country where you had neither relatives nor friends. But Barnes would have a hard time following you there, and that’s what mattered.

You threw a pack of salted cashew in the bag and returned to the bedroom to grab your phone from the chair. It wasn’t there. Although you dropped it just five minutes ago, your phone simply wasn’t there.

You were so fucked.

Next minute you were in the kitchen grabbing a knife, but a strong muscular arm knocked it out of your hand, and you felt Bucky’s musky scent. He stood behind your back, caging you with his bulky arms. You froze and held your breath. You knew you better obeyed the man instead of provoking him to become violent.

“And where were you going, honey?” His husky voice was enough to make you tremble. “It’s not nice to leave without saying goodbye, is it?”

“Please, Bucky.” You did your best to hide how frightened you were. “Stop.”

“No, honey.”

He leaned closer to you and buried his nose in your hair, inhaling its smell. His rough hands were already caressing your body through the clothes.

“You’re free to start a new life. You can find a good woman, have a family if you’d like.” Panic was rising in your chest. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“No, Bucky, it’s not.” You said in a calm voice. “It will only get you back behind the bars. Don’t throw away your life, please.”

“What life?” He growled, turning you around harshly, and you almost fell on his chest, his arms holding you still. “I have no life. I should have never left my cell, you know this better than anyone else. I’m rotten. Damaged goods. I will never have the life I’ve always wanted. Do you know I have nightmares every fucking night again?”

“It’s because you don’t take your pills.” You carefully put your hands against Bucky’s chest. He tried manipulating you, you knew that. “When was the last time you had thioridazine?”

“Stay with me, and I’ll take whatever pills you want me to.” He grinned suddenly, cupping your face. 

Bucky’s strong athletic body emanated heat, and you were already sweating from both his closeness to you and an extreme agitation. Why did it take you so long to leave? You should have done it the first thing in the morning, just grab your documents and money and run to the car. Maybe then you had a chance. Unless Bucky had already been hiding inside your house…

“Why do you want to make a wrong choice again?” You felt his heart beating loudly with your palm against his chest. “You are given a chance to start over. If you want me to consult you still, I can figure something out. I can continue helping you, but you need to find your way. Don’t you think it’s good to meet new people, have friends, find a job, date a girl?”

“Who wants to deal with a psychopath like me?” He let out a chuckle, his expression darkening. “No one can handle me, doc. No one but you. Do you know I wanted to commit suicide before you showed up seven years ago? If not you, they’d already buried me.”

Before you opened your mouth to protest, he turned you around again and gently nudged you towards your bedroom. You broke out in cold sweat. If Bucky was able to outpower Rumlow, that beast of a man, he would have no problems forcing you to do whatever he pleased. It took three strong prison guards to bring someone like Bucky down. You were helpless.

“No one out there is good enough.” His breath was tickling your ear. “You’re the only one, can’t you see? Maybe I’m rotten to the core, but you still helped me. You made me better.”

You stopped in front of your bed, the white cotton sheets and blue blanket crumpled. You stormed off early in the morning once you saw a bottle of perfume on the nightstand and didn’t care to make your bed.

You needed to keep calm. As far as you could see, Bucky didn’t plan to murder you, not when you would accept him, that is. He obviously had a nice plan how to make you stay with him without police knowing, but as long as he kept you alive you still had a chance. You needed to play along.

“On the bed.” He let out a low growl, and you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass.

Shivering, you took off your slippers and sat on the bed facing him. His erection was obvious; Bucky was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated. The next second he was pulling his black t-shirt over his head, and you saw his shredded body littered with scars. You saw one particularly long one on the side close to his waistline: this was the one Rumlow gave him when Bucky was protecting you during the riot. The man let out a quiet laugh when he saw your eyes focused on a nasty pink line.

“Why are you frightened, honey? I know you want a family too. You good-for-nothing ex wasn’t able to give it to you, but I can.” His hands landed on your bared shoulders, and you flinched a little. “Let’s get married, and I swear I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“Bucky, relationships don’t work like this.” You whispered, withholding a cry when his hand pushed you down on the bed. 

“Don’t they?” The man smiled and cocked his head to the side, removing his black leather belt. “You do something for me, I do something for you. That’s what I learnt in prison.”

You dragged yourself back as quickly as you could, but your back was pressed into the wall once Bucky put his knee on your bed. There was nowhere to run.

“Don’t be scared, honey.” His sweet voice broke the silence, and he crawled to you, slowly caging you with his bodyweight. “Let’s make a deal. You marry me, you bear my child, and I will return to prison. I don’t care if they’ll give me twice more pills or make me a lethal injection as far as you take care of my kid. You’ll love my kid, won’t you? You’ll take care of them. You’ll make them a better person than I am.”

The more he spoke, the more feverishly he touched you, his left hand pinning your palms above your head. He traced his arm along your breast, ripping your shirt with so much force that its green buttons ended on the floor. You realized your cheeks were wet with tears when Bucky kissed you on the forehead and wiped your face with his other hand.

He wanted to have kids with you. Why? Why you? Why did he consider you a perfect mother? Why did he consider returning to prison? Why was he ready to trade his goddamn life for a chance of having a child? Why couldn’t he have a child with someone else and just keep living?

Oh, of course he couldn’t. Bucky loathed himself. It wasn’t uncommon for the patients with Cluster B personality disorders, and it was probably true he wanted to end his life since you saw his self-destructing behavior. In the end, even his effort to save your life back than in the prison might be some kind of a suicide attempt. 

And the reason he wanted you and no one else… Well, you were the one who had been taking care of him all these years. The only one to navigate him through his nightmares when everyone else gave up on him. He saw good in you. He wanted it for himself. He wanted to make sure his child would never be treated the way he was.

You cried out when Bucky suddenly forced his cock into you. It felt like he was ripping you apart – he was huge. Your eyes flooded with tears again, and he cooed at you softly, pressing his chapped lips to your burning face. You couldn’t even remember when was the last time you had sex since you broke up with your ex a year ago. Thankfully, Bucky gave you time to adjust. He kept whispering filth into your ears and stroking your naked thighs. When did he take off your jeans?..

He kissed the top of your head, playing with your hair, and moved his hips slightly. You hissed in pain, but then realized it was a bit better – the pleasure started building up slowly, and you squeezed your eyes shut. No, no, you were not disgusting, your body tried to cope the best way it could, nothing else, it was a perfectly normal reaction, you knew that. Then you felt Bucky licking up the shell of your ear and whined desperately.

“It’ll be ok.” He whispered and kissed your temple. “I’ll take you to a nice place, and we’ll be there all alone. Once I make sure you’re pregnant I’ll return to prison, I give you my word.”

You bit down on your lip to muffle the noise coming out of your mouth.

“If they keep me alive, I might become your patient again.” He sounded almost ecstatic, rutting deep into you. “I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll stuff my mouth with your pills. Please, just stay with me.”

Staring at the white ceiling, you bit your tongue so hard your mouth filled with blood. You’d survive this. You’d get him behind the bars again. 

You wouldn’t stay.

[kingofthewilderwest]

Are you really happy without the conventional work? How do you deal with feeling like a failure compared to your peers? How the fuck do i adult i'm so tierd and stressed and don't know what i'm doing

I'm really sorry about how tired, stressed, and uncertain you may be feeling. <3 That's really hard stuff to feel. And I mean that with every ounce of sympathy I wish I could express better beyond this stiff text. Sending you all the love.

I am happier without doing conventional work. It might be less stable because my jobs are short-term, and the instability does make me nervous, but I feel like it has more pros than cons for my personal happiness. It will not be for everyone, though, and I would not recommend it for everyone.

I'm assuming when you ask about feeling like a failure, it's both in concern to how I feel with it, and how you might feel yourself. <3 <3 I hope that this answer ends up helping. It's the best I can try. <3

As for myself, I don't for a second believe I am a failure. I've always been a cocky bitch, and here the cockiness reigns supreme: I'm pretty awesome whether I do anything or not. When I'm exhausted and unhappy and Depression takes over (and hooboy Depression can take over like demon possession), my mind might stray to unbearable self-hate and self-deprecation, but I argue against those voices rather than let them enter my everyday language about myself. (It's a dangerous habit to ever repeatedly insult yourself; it ingrains those thoughts in you worse, it really does.)

There's nothing that makes me a failure compared to my old peers. They're pursuing jobs that society traditional deems "successful." So what? They're irrelevant to me and my life, and my life is irrelevant to them. Society's ideas of what is and isn't good has always been complete bullshit anyway... why should I care if I amount anything to what broader society feels? Broader society is stupid and I don't give a damn about it. I'm not saying this out of bitterness or rejection or something; I honestly don't care because it's irrelevant to me.

I'm here to pursue myself, pursue what I personally like. If I feel happier, if I make a milestone that's relevant to me and myself and I, then that's awesome. In many ways, if I'm different than my old peers and not following into their notion of success, then I know I'm doing right by myself. ;) It's proof of my own growth, isn't it?

The truth of the matter is, nobody is a failure for being different than someone else. Every person has a different life path. I know for many people, they are more self-conscious about how the world around them operates, how the world sees them. If the world doesn't find them successful, beautiful, etc., they feel like shit. Maybe you feel self-conscious about not meshing with society or being "as good as" other people around you. And I'm here to say: your life is your life. <3 <3 I know it can be hard to stop comparing yourself with others, but in the end, I do believe we have to understand our own innate value is permanent. Our value is there no matter what. You are beautiful. Period. There's no ifs, ands, buts, accomplishments, actions, or choices that will change the fact you are innately incredible. <3

The people whose heart meshes with yours, the people who lift you up, those are the people that matter, and those people will never believe you're a failure. Those people will see you as the diamond you are. If people judge you and are cruel to you for that, then their voices are the irrelevant ones to be discarded, because they aren't valuing you, and so they don't have good life advice or good values. There's no value listening to idiots, fools, and castigators. Now, that's not to say that good friends and acquaintances won't tell you you're doing something wrong or struggling or making a bad choice... a good friend is someone who protects you by speaking honestly and warning you if they think you're stumbling... but they aren't going to put you down as some failure, either. They're there to help you move forward with your life's journey for yourself.

We all struggle. We all stumble. We all fall. We all fuck up. We all get tired. We all don't know what we're doing. We all flail around aimlessly. We all make the wrong choice. We all look "better" to outside viewers than we see of ourselves. We see the sloppiest parts of ourselves whereas most others don't, so that's why it's easy to be the most critical with yourself and start bashing on yourself. But I guarantee that my peers, shiny as their PhDs might look, have probably had nights where they've cried into their pillows, or been frazzled, or been at bad low points, or wished they were anyone else. And I wish them the best and emotional security, but what it means is: we're all some level of fucked up anyway. Some people have worse struggles than others, and that needs to be respectfully recognized, but at the end of the day, we're all human and we all struggle and our pains are all real things we experience. The pain is real and it's valid to feel bad over it. The best we can do is give ourselves a break, stop tormenting ourselves internally over our natural inability to be perfect, and when we have the strength, to give love and support to others so they don't stumble as bad as we did.

I want to relate to you by saying... I think I was constantly clueless, confused, anxious, and apprehensive in the first half of my twenties. It sucked and I'm sorry if things suck for you.

Somehow....... I think a switch was flipped somewhere when I got more years of "adulthood" under way. The switch flipped from "I hate that I don't know what I'm doing" to "ehhh, whatever, life is life." Now, it's not to say I'm more organized. I'm not. My refrigerator has more mold than food. There's a horrible smell coming from the kitchen sink where water's been resting in a dirty pot for several days. My laundry is scattered all over the floor and I've run out of pairs of clean underwear... ran out several days ago. Don't ask what I'm wearing. I don't know the last time I've vacuumed and my place looks like a tornado zone. It took me several months to have the mental energy to schedule my first COVID shot, and I often have to cancel my banjo lessons like an unreliable buttfart because something Came Up In Life Just Now. In many ways, my life is still a chaos zone. I think I'm getting better (I've earned a ton of money in my savings account the last two years, victory!!! I'm no longer living month-to-month!!!). But I just want to say in all this.... it's okay. It's not preferable that my house is disorganized piles of crap on the floor, but I can continue to live. If we manage to wake up, get ourselves food, do hours of work, then we have achieved adulthood, and everything else is icing on the cake.

In the end, I think "stability" in adulthood is being semi-comfortable with instability. Adulthood just means handling unstable shit, and if we're novices with it, so be it. Maybe as your life goes forward, things will be less tiring and less confusing. Maybe things will be more stable. Or maybe not. Maybe the same problems will keep coming around. But I think adulthood is the ability to accept that these problems come around, and handle them, even if you aren't 100% a master at the novel circumstances.

And over time, I do believe it gets easier. <3 It takes more to rock the boat. It takes more to daunt you. The things that were initially anxiety-causing become a part of everyday affairs, and when a new novel circumstance comes up, you're more mentally prepared to try on something new. I encourage you to keep at it, my friend. I hope things feel better over time. It's okay that you aren't sure what you're doing right now. Maybe someone can help you in the present day. Maybe in the future you'll know what you're doing with tasks that previously confused you. Maybe in the future, the new weird tasks won't feel as daunting. Adulthood is weird and we don't know what we're doing, but that doesn't mean that life is going to fuck us through that.

In the end, you will still have beauty in your life. No matter what, beauty will exist in its simplest forms, and the simplest forms are the best. You don't need to achieve anything to get there. You don't need to be put together (although being put together is nice and something I want to help my friends feel <3 ). You don't need to look impressive in society. If you see a beautiful sunset, if you see a cluster of cute mushrooms, if you pet a cat or dog or animal of your choice, if you spend twenty minutes talking with your friend on voice call, if you read a good book for half an hour in the morning, if you buy yourself a tasty $4 drink to treat yourself, then your adult life is worth it, and your adult life is enough. <3

[popculturebuffet]

Purpose (Comission for WeirdKev27

Philli and Zan's Place: Recently Repaired from the Moonvasoin a few weeks back

Philli: I brought your Pizza!

Papa Swans: For When You Need a Pick Me Up

Owlson: Just.. drop it into my mouth

Philli: Okay that was fun the first.. dozen times .. and still is. But you haven't worked since you finished training that nice young moonlander to take your place.

Got them a dog too from one of my rescues. Their a very good boy... it's also their name.

Owlson: (Just takes the bots and eats somberly)

Philli: Okay hun I know it's bad because you didn't even go into a mild rant over two people naming their Dog Good Boy.

Owlson: I don't have it in me. I've lost all purpose. I can't find another corporate sector job. I don't WANT to work for some idiot again, but after a YEAR of my life wasted babysitting that toddler driving a grown man's body that's all people think of me, all they want me to do. I don't have other options.

Philli: Sure you do. Your Zan Owlson. You just need to get out of your rut, get a shower, get out of this house

Owlson: Penthouse

Philli: And get some time to yourself. Well with me because i'm not letting you go.. and not just because I glued my hand to your back.

Owlson: (Casually takes off jacket

Philli: Whelp now I got a jacket hand again. Point is You need a break. Get recentered, and find something NEW to do. Your brilliant baby, you just need some time to recharge.. which I know is hard for you and your work flow had me convinced you were a robot for the first few months we were dating.

Owlson: What

Philli: But you just need to take at least ONE day off to rest instead of going all in or wallowing that that's not working kay? I have some.. business to do in St. Carnard. JUst come with me

Owlson: Isn't that the place from that "Darkwing" show you like that recently has had an unstable lunatic running around like he's the lead character?

Philli: He's not unstable, he just beat me to it. Just go with me okay?

Owlson: Fine

ONE TRIP ACROSS THE BRIDGE LATER:

Owlson: Well the infastructure is .. terrible but your right, I needed the break

Philli: I called it didn't I... (is looking around antisly at the rooftoop)

Owlson:... your "reasons" were wanting to see this weirdo in a mask weren't they.

Philli(wearing her own superhero outfit, The Phiting Philantrophist) : Mayyybe

Darkwing: (From a nearbye alleway) I'm not weird. I am the terror that... hey this is my turp

Philli: Oh i'm just visiting

Darkwing: Then can we team up I haven't gotten to do one of those.

Philli: Didn't you team up with Gizmoduck during the moonvasion?

Darkwing: (Eye twitching) Are you coming or not?

Owlson: Just go darling i'll be fine.

Philli: (smooches her cheek) you da best (Both heroes run off into the night)

Owlson: Okay what to do... (sees a crowd and a pig man at a podium) ohhhh political speech! Don't mind if I do.

Mayor Trumpcard: If elected I will keep things great like my hair,the giant statue of myself, that bridge I never finished, that literal road to nowhere, the zombie graveyard exibit I imported real zombies for that only killed three people last month, a new record low, and my...

Citzen: but what about the levy's? Their bound to break just like birdtowns!

Some Lady: And the schools. Billy brought home a billy club. That's not why I named him billy!

Old Man T-Rex: And what about that mad scientest turning people into dinosaurs!

Dr. Fossil: Yes what about him whose totally not me.. totally...

Yogi Bear: And er what about the hospitals.. the cafteria is attortious! And I don't even live here! I was just transportin a kidney that mysteriously vanished when I dropped it off a building.

Guy Bleeding Out: And I got shot yesterday.. by me but still the fact no one noticed say something about the city

Mayor Trumpcard: Those are excellent questions.. and i'm going to think about them while relaxing in the pool of money i've embezzled from this office. Good day (Runs)

Owlson: That's rediculous, a politician should be about the people. You fix levy's by putting pressure on the city's elitie to donate, I've put pressure on rich people my whole career. You just gotta work at it no matter how much gold or sharks or explosives or ottomans they throw at you!

You fix the schools, and the hosptail and this dinosaur transformatoin informatoin the same way! You work hard, you work deep and you work for your people's best intrests at heart!

Crowd: (Starts chanting) OWL LADY OWL LADY

Owlson: Uh .. it's Owlson.. Zan Owlson.

Crowd: Owlson for mayor owlson for mayor owlson for mayor!

Owlson: But I don't even live here.. but .. Philli HAS wanted to move here.. and ther'es so much I could do. What other problems do you fine people have?

Person: We've got a clown infestation in the road to nowhere... FERAL clowns

Owlson: Simply open up a new circuis, you have the staff you just need someone to run it.

???: Someone poisoned the water suply!

Owlson: Then try and filter fresh water from the ocean.

Can Can: The Ring came off my pudding can

Owlson: Then take my pen knife my good man

Crowd: Owlson owlson owlson

Philli: (Watching from the roofs) I'm proud of you baby (texts her)

Owlson: (reads)

Philli: WE CAN MOVE HERE. YOUR DOING AMAZING SWEETIE TALK TO YOU LATER

Cement Head: You know i'ts rude to text during a battle

Philli: It's rude to steal a bank

Cement Head: (Holding a bank) Touche

Owlson: (Beams proudly purpose found) I'm now announcing my offical canadacy as mayor of st canard

Trumpcard: (Puts mayor sash on her) I concede.. there's no possble way to win as that would require effort but if you want my money back you'll HAVE TO CATCH ME FIRST (books it only to trip and be mobbed by the citzenry)

Owlson and Philli: (Beam at one another, a bright future ahead.

THE BEGINING: .....

[anotheronechicagobog]

Enemies to Lovers Noah Sexton x dawson!reader

requested by: @bitweird1​

written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

Warnings: swearing, mature themes, child neglect, slightly Dawson bashing but they really just didn’t know, canon compliant threats

You had spent your entire life struggling and working your ass off. No social life, extracurriculars for the sole purpose of applying to universities, and spending the majority of your life studying because according to your dad at least one Dawson had to become a doctor and your older siblings had decided that it wouldn’t be them, leaving you to do nothing but prepare for the future that had been hand-picked by the man you felt abandoned you. And then Noah fucking Sexton just waltzes in having put in half the effort and riding the coattails of his much more intelligent sister who gave up a career as a doctor because of sexism. He spent far too much of his time flirting with everything that had boobs and a pulse. You didn’t like him because he took nothing seriously and didn’t have a responsible bone in his body, and he hated you because you were incredibly uptight and didn’t have a sense of humour.

“Maybe you’d have more friends here if you didn’t have a stick shoved up your ass.”

“I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to become a doctor.”

Everyone was getting really sick of your fighting, so they banded together and made things worse. They had badgered you until Doris had enough and dragged you to Molly’s. You refused to drink or eat anything, resulting in more snide remarks between you and Noah. Just when everyone was developing a migraine before they were anywhere even close to drunk your parents burst through the door and marched over to you. And suddenly, everyone in the bar, including your siblings, were subjected to and twenty-minute rant from your parents about how you should be grateful they pushed you towards medical school and all the activities that got you scholarships, that they didn’t abandon you, and that they clothed and fed you because a third child cost so much money, how you never took anything seriously and were always joking around, and how you were a disgrace to the family. Once they finished, your dad dragged you out by your arm, your mom followed muttering about why couldn’t you be more like Gabby and Antonio.

You walked into the ED the next day as robotic as ever. The pitiful and awkward stares were ignored with ease, it was something you were quite used to if you were honest. Your parents were always scrutinized by your teachers and DCFS. At the end of the day, though, they weren’t abusive enough for any charges or housing changes to be set. They weren’t like that with Gabby and Antonio, who had mostly moved out by the time you were in kindergarden, you were their last chance to help them prove to their family that they didn’t fail as parents. And they made sure you knew it.

“Dr. Dawson, you’ve got a patient in treatment one. Also, uh, are you okay? I feel pretty bad about last night.”

“Oh, don’t worry about anything. I’m fine, and my parents were right I should’ve been studying. It was a poor decision on my part not to. I’m gonna get to this patient, but you really don’t need to feel bad, okay?”

She nodded absently as you turned your back to her. ”Hi, I'm Dr. Dawson, can you tell me what brought you in today?”

---------------------------------

Your patient had just gone up to the OR to have a blood clot removed and you made your way to the doctor’s lounge, followed by Noah Sexton. ”Hey, Y/N, are you-”

”Yes, Noah, I am okay. Yes, I'm sure. I am fine, I am always fine.”

”From my experience when people say they're fine they're usually not.”

”Noah, I am okay.”

“I don’t believe you.”

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The next few weeks were a maze of pitiful stares, hushed concerned words, and a silent Noah. All of it was completely unnerving. It all came to a head when Dr. Charles approached in the ED you about starting therapy with him, talking continuously about all the points ‘brought to his attention’, not even giving you the time to tell him the majority were false. “Excuse me?” 

Your stomach coiled in anger at his words. Not only were you more than capable of doing your job, but you already had a therapist. With basket case parents like yours, it was blatantly obvious that therapy was required. But the audacity of your co-workers to gossip so much that it came to the point over half the points Charles brought up were complete BS was astounding. Not only that, but he’d apparently spent the last few days internet stalking you to try and find some of your demons. “Dr. Charles, do you consider me a danger or liability to any of the patients or doctors at this hospital because of my relationship with my parents?”

“No, you actually seem to be well balanced mentally.”

“Then what, on earth, made you think it was appropriate to go around behind my back asking everyone at the hospital their opinion about me and what happened at Molly’s, or stalk me online to try and get a read on me, and then ask me blatantly at work, in the middle of the shift, in front of all my co-workers and superiors? What made you think it was okay to loudly bombard me with rumours and hearsay while I’m working?”

“Well, I thought that since it’s my job to check on all the ED docs, I’d check on you.”

“... You’re joking, right? I am the only person in this department who goes to therapy. Don’t kid yourself, you don’t check on anyone here. You judge them and make sure they know it. And quite honestly, you don’t have the best reputation for looking out for the mental and emotional state of your colleagues. This confrontation was not only completely inappropriate, but rude, obnoxious, presumptuous, riddled with unchecked errors, and unprofessional.”

“That’s not how I would word it.”

“It’s how I see it, and how I’ll word it with HR.”

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No one was pitying you anymore, not since the tongue lashing you gave Dr. Charles, who was on very thin ice with the hospital. While bringing up Robin and Sarah may have been a bit of a low blow, it exposed some issues with Dr. Charles that needed to be addressed. The only person who acted as if you were made of glass was Noah Sexton. While he had been a bit of a pain in the ass, this was worse. He was being sickeningly nice to you and it was getting on your last nerve. Yes, your parents were abusive. Yes, you had a messed up and traumatic childhood. But did that limit your abilities? No. Did that make you mentally unstable requiring therapy and fragility from your coworkers? Absolutely not.

He came in with coffee exactly the way you liked it, again. With a muffin, again. “You have to stop.”

“Stop what, Y/N?”

“Stop acting weird. You don’t like me, you hate me, actually. The only reason you’re being nice to me is because my parents resent my existence. I do not need or want your pity. So stop treating me like a china doll, and start treating me like your coworker.”

“Okay, okay, I uh... I’m sorry. I just, I feel guilty, okay? I gave you such a hard time for being so frigid and then when your parents showed up at Molly’s and started screaming at you for existing and having a life of your own, it just all made sense. And I gave you shit and trouble for coping with your crazy-ass parents. And then Dr. Charles came by to talk to you and I just felt even worse because even though I didn’t tell him anything, it was our fighting that put the spotlight on you in the first place. You shouldn’t have had your dirty laundry aired to the entire hospital, that’s happened to me a few times and it’s horrible, and I feel bad because I know that I was a contributing factor to all the shit you’ve had to deal with at work.”

“I get where you’re coming from, but let’s be real, everything would’ve turned out exactly the same way if you weren’t involved. The gossip mill runs strong at Gaffney.”

“Yeah, it does. I still feel bad.”

“Well, you’re forgiven then. So you can stop treading delicately, buying me coffee, and being creepily nice to me.”

“I am not being ‘creepily nice’! And how can being nice be creepy anyway?”

“Yesterday you followed me around offering to help me take my gloves on and off constantly, to the point where a patient who came in for falling out of the ceiling above the women’s changeroom said ‘that’s just weird’.”

“... Okay. I’ll stop. But I gotta be honest, I don’t think I can go back to arguing with you all the time.”

“That’s fine, just stop acting so weird that a couple I caught having kinky sex after an STD swab said ‘that made us really uncomfortable’.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. Seriously, you didn’t have to tell me twice.”

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SIX MONTHS LATER

You and Noah had actually managed to become good friends and roommates. Shortly after he started acting like a normal person around you, not an instigator or a psycho, you found yourself enjoying his company. And yesterday, when you’d come home to find your room completely torn apart by your mother because your father had tried to frame you for using weed, you were done. Most of what you owned had been destroyed in your mother’s search, which sucked, but it made packing up all your stuff into your car much easier.

So far you’d ignored 43 texts, 12 calls, two visits from Gabby when she brought in a patient, and one visit from Antonio who didn’t even bother trying to lie to you. He also threatened to impound your car, you threatened to tell Voight about the time he and Lindsay got drunk and hooked up. It didn’t even matter that she was in New York now, Voight wouldn’t even blink before bludgeoning him down. He swore at you, “how could you break mami’s heart like this?”, and “can’t you just behave and do what you’re told for once?”

You looked him dead in the eyes, heart beating erratically at you older brother supporting your parents belittling and abusing you, “You sound like dad Antonio.”, watched his face fall, and left. Noah stopped him when he went to follow you. “You good?”

“Uh, not really. I don’t have a place to go tonight.”

“Did your mom kick you out?”

“No, I left. I can’t do it anymore. I break out in hives whenever I even think about my mother now. I just can’t go back.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I have been looking for a roommate, we can move you into my place after shift.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Now come on, it’s prank week. Stohl pissed off Manning last week and she’s been planning revenge ever since, you do not want to miss this.”

And you didn’t. You entered the ED to find one of the most hated doctors in med spitting out Gatorade. “WHaT thE heLL?! That was sooo-ughghghg-” he couldn’t even finish his sentence before running to the doctor’s lounge to throw up in the bathroom. To Natalie’s credit, she didn’t crack a smile or react at all as she gracefully stepped over the spilled orange Gatorade. She briefly reminded you of a fae, graceful, beautiful, and cunning as all hell. You made a mental note never to cross her. Later at lunch, Natalie opened her sushi container, slightly deconstructed each piece, loaded all the pieces up with wasabi, reconstructed them, and popped one in her mouth. Everyone sitting near her had their eyes flash in recognition. Stohl had a habit of stealing other people’s food, and no matter how many times anyone told him to stop, they were just bullied into compliance. As a result, everyone had to dictate their food choices around his palette. Which meant no spicy food. Something that sucked for nearly everyone because hot food was a favourite for most people in the ED. But Manning wasn’t taking his shit. Not today. Something that worried everyone sitting around her because she would get in trouble for eating her own food how she liked it. It wasn’t until one of the HR workers, Holly, sat down beside Natalie and engaged in conversation that everyone realized the full scope of her plans. Stohl plopped down beside you and stole half of your sandwich right out of your hand. Ranting and raving, insulting everyone, stealing food, he made his way all around the circular cafeteria table until he got to Nat. He scooped up to pieces and threw them in his mouth just after he finished the words ‘insolent underlings’. Everyone held their breath as they watched his pale face redden exponentially. His eyes widened. And then he screamed. 

He yelled, he swore. “I’m going to report you to HR! You tried to poison me!”

“You stole food from everyone, something inappropriate, unethical, and unprofessional. You stole her food. That she made spicy to her tastes. She didn’t try to poison you.”

“And just who the fuck do you think you are?!”

“Holly Scott, from HR.”

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You and Noah were doing great, as roommates and as friends. “Hey, do you have any plans for dinner tonight? My parents invited me over for dinner and they asked me to extend an invite to you. It’s nothing major, they wanted to meet my previous roommates, too. Make sure you’re not a hooligan.”

“Okay, sounds fun. What should I bring?”

“Yourself...?”

“It’s rude to show up at someone else’s home without a gift.”

“You don’t need to bring my parents a gift.”

“Oh, I’m bringing a gift. I’m just asking you for some input.”

“Okay, well they really like wheelie shoes-”

“Ha, oh my god, I meant for what your parents would like, not you. And want wheelie shoes? Those have been out for a while, Noah.”

“Hey, do not laugh at me! They are just a very effective and fun way to get around.”

“Would you like them to light up too?”

“... Is that an option?”

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You knocked on the door while Noah rolled his eyes at you. “I grew up here!”

“Well you don’t live here anymore and it’s rude to just barge into someone’s home and act like you own the place.”

“Oh, you must be Y/N! I wasn’t expecting anyone to knock, usually, Noah just barges in and acts like he owns the place. Come in, come in. It’s freezing outside.” You gave Noah a side-eyed smirk as you took off your coat, while he looked bashfully embarrassed. “Uh, here Ms. Sexton, I brought some homemade empanadas, they can be put in the fridge or kept in the freezer, and it’s best to reheat them in the oven. 350 F, ten minutes from the fridge and about 20 if they were put in the freezer.”

“Oh, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“I was raised that when you go over to someone’s house for dinner or an event, you bring a gift. And it was either this or a house plant.”

“Ha, good idea going with the food, it’s a Sexton family trait that will kill all the plants we touch. Thank you very much.”

“Hello, you must be Y/N. It;s wonderful to meet you- and what smells so good?”

“Y/N brought empanadas, and they are going away so that you and I can enjoy them later. Now everyone, to the dining room, dinner is just about done.”

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Things started to change a bit a few months later when Choi had to physically restrain Noah from attacking a drunk bar fight patient who called you a slut in the middle of the ED. You’d been confused but Maggie just kept saying that it was a matter of time.

When you’d been hanging around at Molly’s with Noah, Sarah, and Darren, Noah had his arm casually wrapped around your shoulders, something your sister gave you the eyebrow for from her place at the bar.

After you’d been mugged and beaten, you’d run to the 21st, where your brother promptly unleashed the most fearsome demon hell has ever cowered from, AKA Hank Voight, he also called Noah. And when your brother finally made an arrest and got Voight to calm down a little, he’d entered the breakroom to find you fast asleep, curled up against Noah. Who sat in an incredibly uncomfortable position, holding you and stroking your back. You missed the dark look that crossed his face, or the one of fear that had crossed Noah’s but something of an understanding had fallen to Noah. The two of you needed to talk.

So you did, and it went well, so well that you planned a date. Then another one. And another one, until you two had been dating for six months and figured it was time to tell your families. You were shaking in your boots, the Sexton’s were all incredibly close and incredibly doting on Noah, so even though they liked you, you had absolutely no clue as to what the reaction would be. To your relief, it was happiness, they loved you as much as Noah apparently, and they relished in the changed you’d caused in Noah.

Your family, on the other hand, did not react well. Which was why you’d made sure that you told them in a very public place, and had only ordered waters before you told them. There was yelling, screaming, your father waving his arms around so much Antonio had to use his cop voice on him. In the end, you and Noah had been there for around five minutes before throwing some cash at the waitress as a tip for leaving her with your family, and hauling ass out of there. The two of you had ended up just eating pizza on the boardwalk in your fancy clothes and heading back to the apartment late.You both had work the next day, but while you were an intern, Noah was not. And while you were off giving a patient a sponge bath, your siblings cornered Noah at the nurses desk. “Sexton, is there a place the three of us can talk?”

“Uh, sure, this conference room is free...”

“Perfect.”

“So, I take it this is about-”

“Nuh-uh. You do not talk. We do.”

“You are dating our baby sister.”

“We may not be as close to her as you are with your sister, but she still means a lot to us.”

“We love her. We are two people with some pretty dangerous skills. It is for these two reasons that you will not hurt her. Ever.”

“And if you do, don’t forget who I work with.”

“No one will ever find your body.”

“Are we clear?”

“Uh, hmmh... Clear. Crystal clear.”

“Good. Now do you know where Y/N is? We’d like to take the both of you out to lunch or something, just the four of us, to make up for the dinner of many disasters.”

[enithinggoes]

Wanderer’s Refuge, chapter 1: departure

Chapter 1: Departure

This is a story about a family, not a bloodline, not a union officiated by the state, but just a group of people sharing their lives and experiences in such a way that their presence and company gave each other a powerful sense of safety and belonging.

The story may start at the door to a building called “St. Evans’  house for wayward children”, with a white haired, pale blue-eyed baby in a basket, on the basket was a note, “her name is Agatha Clarke, the doctor said she would never be able to walk, I am so sorry.”

The girl was taken in, and the orphanage took care of her, in a way that she wouldn’t have described as either good or bad, but certainly lonely and highly regulated. When a subtly glowing mark appeared on Agatha’s left temple, changing from time to time, the nuns told her everyone had those somewhere on their body, but it was “rude” and “uncouth” to have it showing, so she was instructed to keep her hair long to keep it discrete.

Agatha Clarke had a quiet and still childhood, she was carried everyday from the girls’ shared bedroom to the classroom. But during recess, unable to play with the other children who wanted to run around, she preferred to stay in the classroom, which also functioned as a library, both due to her interest in storybooks and wanting to cause as little trouble to her caretakers as possible.

The only break in that quiet was the regular noise and rattle from the adjacent train station, while most other youths in the dorm found it loud and annoying, seeing the trains from her window enraptured the young Agatha, she would often daydream about taking one of those and going anywhere she wished, or even places she could barely imagine from her dimly lit room, a fascination with the inner workings of those wonderful machines joined her love of fairytales and stories like that of Rapunzel and before she was 10, Agatha could draw a detailed diagram of a boiler room on her own.

On sundays, Agatha was left for a few minutes outside to “take in some sun rays”, one fateful day when she was thirteen, she met a person from the outside for the first time, someone her age, even.

“H-hi…” a stranger put her hand out towards Agatha, “I-I’m a girl!” she had an intense expression on her face, not aggressive, just very focused.

“Hello, erm… so am I.” answered the girl, a little confused about the greeting, did everyone outside the orphanage introduce themselves by stating their gender? Nevertheless, she was still excited by the prospect of meeting someone new, “my name’s Agatha Clarke, what’s yours?”

“Ursa Martin” the girl with wild black hair said, some tension leaving her body as she casually sat next to Agatha on the bench, still, she did stutter a bit when she said“I like your hair.”

The girls talked on the bench for as long as Agatha could stay. First, Agatha asked the outsider about her life, what she did for fun, what the world was like, Ursa thought the world was an angry place, where bad people would always try to hurt you and you had to be ready, but that just made finding people you could trust even more important, she said she liked exploring the town, going around alleys and rooftops and finding the most hidden places she could keep to herself. Next, it was the white-haired girl’s turn to speak about herself, but she mostly kept to what she knew about machinery and fantasy. Though Ursa left in a hurry when she saw the nun coming to pick her new friend up, she promised they’d meet again.

They met up again next week, and the week after that, it became a tradition of sorts, every Sunday they would sit down and talk about their lives, their tastes, their fears, Agatha found joy in the bravery and the wild stories of her new friend, and Ursa admired the gentle kindness and wonder in Agatha’s eyes. In about a month Agatha told her friend about having already read every book in the library that interested her, and the next week Ursa just “happened” to find a few books to bring to her as a gift, something she would do often in the years thereafter. In one of them, a book of legends, supposedly from centuries in the past, the white-haired girl found drawings similar to the mark on her temple, the stories talked about those markings being a reflection of the person’s soul, and they would change during childhood but become more fixed as development advanced.

In the stories, the mark could be used to determine what kind of sorcery was available to the person, a gift from the heavens. Agatha couldn’t help but try to use sorcery herself, but she didn’t know how, so she just put out her hands and close her eyes to try to concentrate on the things she liked, when she opened them, at first it seemed like nothing had happened. But she soon heard a ticking noise, originating from a small, metallic wind-up man, its stiff legs jolting forward and down to make it walk steadily forward.

Agatha let out a little squeal of happiness, and she examined the toy’s bolts and gears to find it was virtually indistinguishable from normal iron. She hid the toy in her cupboard, not wanting to show it to her caretakers if it was tied to the symbol she was told to hide.

As she slept that night, she had an idea, she’d seen designs of three-wheeled chairs that could be moved by hand-cranks in her books, but she knew she had no way of getting enough money to buy one for herself. However, what if she could build it just with her sorcery?

Agatha started practicing at night, building things of escalating size and complexity, from toys, to pocket watches, to model trains, slowly but surely, she started learning, she found out that she needed to picture all the intricacies of what she was creating in her mind, so higher complexity could exponentially increase difficulty, she also discovered that if she left more than a few creations out she’d quickly become exhausted, so she needed to work on her stamina.

On the night of her 14th birthday, she heard a knocking on her window; she opened it and saw Ursa, just floating about 10 feet off the ground!

“W-what are you doing!?” Agatha asked, alarmed.

“I came to see you!” came the answer, “you told me today was your birthday, right? I hope I didn’t get the date wrong…”

“No I mean how are you doing that?! Are you flying?” she asked in a sort of whisper-yell

“Oh, uhh, when I think hard about a place I want to go, I just sort of… float up there, it’s alright as long as no grown-ups see me do it,” said Ursa, worryingly casually.

“So you can do sorcery too?” Agatha was now more curious than startled

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure everyone can, we’re just not allowed to, apparently it’s a crime against the country because it’s too dangerous and unstable, but I think that’s kind of bull.”

“Oh… could you… Bring me outside? I’d like to see the city, please.” She felt embarrassed, but the chance of seeing more than the orphanage and the street in front of it just seemed too good not to try.

“Of course!” a sudden blush appeared on Ursa’s cheeks, “let me just, hold you up like this.” She grabbed Agatha in a princess carry, and together they floated up to the roof as Agatha was awestruck by the steam coming out of the taller girl’s body, especially her legs.

Once they were up Agatha could see the lights, both of the stars above and the streetlamps below, they were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, and they convinced her she had to find a way to live outside the orphanage someday.

She told her Ursa of her plans, her dreams of being able to move by herself, the time she was spending practicing every day while the other youths played at recess, and finally, with her eyes growing heavy, she leaned her head against Ursa’s shoulder and asked “could you bring me here again someday?”

“Of course,” Ursa smiled and put her arm around the white-haired girl, “of course I will.” Agatha felt safe under her friend’s arm, and the warmth from her body was comfortable enough for her to fall asleep without thinking of how she’d come back down.

When she woke up, Agatha was back on her bed, like it was just another normal day, but her determination to build herself a wheelchair had been redoubled. She started to fill her cupboard with as many creations as she could when not actively practicing so she could improve her stamina. To reach towards higher levels of complexity, she started building individual pieces of the design she’d been studying and manually assembling them, conceptualizing how they fit together.

Over the months, she got better and better, from wheel to wheel and crank to crank, just two weeks before her next birthday, Agatha finally got her wheelchair to fully materialize. Just in time to realize she had another problem, what would she do, just say “hey this showed up in my room”? She’d done a surprisingly good job at concealing her practice until now, but this would definitely raise at least a few eyebrows.

When night fell and Ursa came to visit, and she’d often been for the last year, even being there to watch and support Agatha while she practiced, she had an idea. “How about I bring it to you? It’s your birthday this month right?”

“Don’t you think receiving an anonymous expensive birthday gift is still a tad suspicious?”

“No, no, no. Not anonymous. Listen, what if I delivered as if it was from your parents?”

Agatha put a finger to her chin, quizzical. “That… might be good actually.”

Two weeks later, a package arrived, wrapped up haphazardly in green gift paper, with a simple red bow and a note which read “from Mr. and Ms. Clarke”, Agatha feigned surprise and amazement when she saw the contraption she could really describe better than her own face, still, internally she thought “thanks mom and dad, at least you gave me a surname I could use for this.”

Her caretakers were amazed, but they tried to say as little as possible about it being marked as from her parents, maybe to keep her from going after them, or just from being upset at never having me them.

Either way, now Agatha was much more mobile, she still had trouble with inclines or the stairs of the orphanage, but it was an enormous improvement, she was even allowed to move around the block on sundays, during which she would have pleasant jaunts with Ursa, who showed her the train station up close. This was it, this was her next project, she would learn to make her own train.

“What the heck would you do with a train?” questioned Ursa, “what tracks could you put it on?”

“Well… I don’t know, I’ll make my own tracks.” Answered Agatha, and she knew it was silly, no train made its own tracks on the fly, but she still wanted to try and create one.

The girls were somewhat scared of being discovered, but for some reason they just couldn’t resist going out at night together sometimes, Ursa would pick her up and they’d go explore the town and just have fun together, one of these days, they went to the boarder of a nearby lake to stargaze and skip little pebbles across it, Ursa was behind Agatha, leaning over her with her hands on her shoulders.

“Have you ever seen the ocean?” said Agatha.

“Nah, never really been gone out of town. Do you want to?”

“Yes, I’ve seen pictures of the waves, but it seems like the kind of thing you’ll only appreciate in movement.” She heaved a little sigh. “I’m sure it won’t happen for a long time, though. To travel I need money, and I’m not planning on marrying a man anytime soon, so I’ll need to find a job, but most of those available to us don’t pay really well.”

Ursa hung her head in front of her friend, peering into her sky-blue eyes, an intense expression on her face “I’ll take you there… I promise, by the time you’re 18, I’ll get enough money and we’ll go together to the beach, ok?”

Agatha backed away, hiding a giggle “thanks but, why would you do that? I know you’re not doing great either. So why make that kind of promise to someone like me?”

Ursa walked around to her front, getting down on one knee so they could be on the same level, “well, of course I wanna do this for you, because I…” she got closer, holding onto Agatha’s shoulders, “I love you.”

They shared a tender kiss somewhere no one could see them, under just the watchful gaze of the night sky.

After that, they started dating, and became bolder with the visits, to the point where Ursa brought books directly to Agatha’s window. About a semester after, they did something that would change their lives forever.

“So, you’ve been having a hard time with you magic thing right?” asked Ursa from the window.

“Yeah… It’s just that I feel like my progress has been slowing since I have no records of the limits of sorcery, maybe what I’m trying isn’t even possible.” She said, looking up from a small model train that refused to move

“I think I might be able to help with that.”

“How? Have you brought me any new books?” Agatha’s face lit up a little.

“Not exactly, but I might have something better, you see, I’ve been scoping out a spot where we could get some really good info about magic, not just fiction and records of dubious authenticity, I’m talking real historical records baby, the kind of stuff they hid when sorcery was banned! I’ve found a way into the imperial archives and I know there’s nobody there from 11PM to 5AM BUT they check their storage every morning so I can’t bring it to you. My plan then, and I understand if you think this is too risky, but I could sneak you into there, then you could spend hours looking at whatever you’d like and we just sneak out at about 4AM!” Ursa sounded very excited as she spoke, it seemed like she’d been planning this for at least a few weeks, Agatha was hesitant, but very curious, and she didn’t want to have her girlfriend’s (she felt a tingle of joy thinking that) work go to waste.

“If you’re sure we can do this, I’ll trust you, should we head there today?”

They left at about 10PM, floating slowly between the roofs of houses, Ursa commented “I got inspired by you and I’ve been practicing this, wouldn’t wanna drop you am I right?” with a little smirk.

They stopped close to the central district police station, Agatha asked “so the archive is here?” some nervousness creeping into her voice.

“Yeah, I don’t like it either, but I’ve got it on good authority that they keep the archives on sorcery here, maybe the cops use it for something?”

They waited in silence for two hours, seeing all the staff leave around 11, but they wanted to be sure.

“Okay, see that open window?, we’re gonna squeeze through there and then I’ll take you to the archives okay?”

“Okay”, and with that, and a slight smile, the girls began their infiltration, it went surprisingly fine, Ursa had really done her homework in preparation for this, once they were in, they breathed a sigh of relief and Agatha was set down on an empty chair

“Alright.” Ursa whispered conspiratorially, a little excited by the adrenaline of sneaking into a place like this, “We’ve got all the time in the world, so I’ll read the titles and you tell me what you like.

Agatha just gave a thumbs up, still somewhat afraid of making noise

“Ok, “treaties on the legality of sorcery”, “magic in war throughout the ages”, “the fundamentals of magical warfare”…”

“I guess I should start with the fundamentals.”

“Okay! Then I’ll take magic in war.”

They were thick books, and both Agatha and Ursa spent the next few hours going over them, on hers, Agatha learned of the meaning of the symbols on people, there was a chart in it relating different kinds of symbols to different types of sorcery, all sorcery has an “essence” and a “shape”, the essence defining what your sorcery manipulates and the shape defining where it goes, each person had a symbol combining one essence and one shape.

There were too many essences to go over right now, but only three shapes, these were:

“Command”, which meant projecting sorcery outwards and manipulating it in the environment, it allows the sorcerer to produce large amounts of their essence and direct it at long ranges, this shaping allows precise control in a large area of effect and overwhelming attacks. Though it does leave its user vulnerable to surprise attacks from outside their line of sight, this can be mitigated by Command’s lesser known ability to sense their essence around them.

Notable historical example: Jack Austen, “the devil’s hand” a mad flame sorcerer known for taking sadistic delight in the burning of both people and structures and unnaturally red fingers, supposedly a curse put upon him after he once incinerated an army of 500 men he was a part of by himself when their commander insulted him. It is said the curse still runs in his descendants today.

“Imbue”, which meant infusing their sorcery into their own bodies and objects they directly touch, it allows the sorcerer to take in the properties of their essence into their bodies and equipment, it has the lowest range of the shapes, but can easily be used to protect oneself and improve mobility. One thing that can be used to circumvent this shape’s weaknesses is using it to make powerful essence-infused weapons that can heighten one’s range

Notable historical example: Lucius Wolf, “the untouchable”, an acid sorcerer able to maintain his body completely as a viscous liquid capable of quickly dissolving any people or objects he came into contact with for multiple days, supposedly walked at a slow steady pace through a castle to completely melt its lord in front of their whole guard, who repeatedly impaled him to no effect before he simply walked out.

“Create” The rarest of the shapes and perhaps the hardest one to use effectively, it allows the sorcerer to create complex structures and even sentient constructs with their essence, though this takes a large amount of time, with proper preparation the sorcerer can affect the battlefield without ever being present, though maintaining a construct for extended periods of time can induce fatigue, their creator is free to make them temporarily disappear and instantly reappear to save energy, the most powerful sorcerers of this shape could somehow keep their creations in existence after their death.

Notable historical example: Dorothy Clay, “The saint of green valley”, a common baker who supposedly awakened enormous latent magical reserves after her village was attacked, creating dozens of mud golems she molded with her own hands that then spread out over the village, rebuilding all the destroyed  homes and protecting the villagers from any further attacks for 200 years

Agatha learned that sorcery used to be commonplace, used in every war and considered just a part of human capabilities, “a gift from the heavens”, as the book said, and though it focused on its uses for warfare, it seemed as though people used it just to make life more convenient or express themselves and make art. She found it wonderful, and wondered why no one had told her about this.

Moving on in the book, she found just what she was looking for, advice for training with sorcery, it said: “when conjuring, one must take the phenomenon they wish to induce from inside their mind to the outside world, for this, focus must be placed in all of the sorcerer’s senses, the shape, the sound, the smell and the texture of what they wish to create, in the case of “imbue”, imagining what having a different body would be like is also important. However, perhaps even more than the senses, the emotional resonance of the sorcery affects its efficacy, understanding and evoking whatever a spell symbolizes to the sorcerer is key to creating spectacular effects that can change the course of a battle.”

The night was passing quickly, with the girls leaning on each other’s shoulders, enjoying a quiet moment of curiosity and transgression together, almost forgetting about the danger by now. Suddenly, someone appeared at the door.

It was a tall, well-built man with a tired eyes and a brown overcoat, he had a scar over his right eye. The man’s expression went from exhaustion to surprise to irritation in just one second as he clenched his fist for a moment before pointing at the girls with a leather-gloved hand, saying “who are you and what are you doing here?”

Both of them knew that it was not a good idea to answer with their full names, yet they were somehow unable to stop themselves from doing so, Agatha adding “we just came here to try to learn more about sorcery!”

“Alright, I’m taking you in. Breaking and entering and research of forbidden practices.” The man responded, reaching into his pocket

Before he could do anything else, Ursa had already grabbed Agatha and said “not a chance!” before jumping through a window, releasing a burst of steam from her feet that multiplied the force of her jump and turning her back to the glass to protect Agatha and her face from the shattering window. Despite clearly feeling a lot of pain from that slam, Ursa Martin didn’t stop for a moment before turning her feet towards the nearest wall and bouncing on it with another burst of steam to get as far away from the cop as possible. With adrenaline coursing through her whole body, she was able to move quick and unpredictably, softening her collision with the wall and then launching herself again towards the other side of the street.

He tried aiming his pistol at the girls, trying to immobilize them for capture, but with Ursa bouncing non-stop from wall to wall, he had no chance at an accurate shot, and the longer he tried to aim, the farther away they would get, so he grit his teeth for a moment before shouting “STOP!” deep and commanding.

Ursa felt the circuits of her brain get interrupted, and her muscles froze up as she flew uncontrollably at a hotel building. Agatha was left unaffected, still completely able to move as usual, but to do what ? Flail desperately before they crashed straight into the wall ? This was it for them, there would be no escaping with their broken bones if they even survived going head-first into this stone building’s second floor.

She held tightly onto her girlfriend, desperately hoping that she’d be able to save them, that something would get them out of here alright, she thought of travelling together, of seeing the ocean, of the wonderful machines she heard from her orphanage room that could take her anywhere, she closed her eyes and tried to think happy thoughts as she braced for impact.

But there was no “Thud”, there was only a familiar loud whistle of steam and a rattle she knew very well. The girls were sitting together, in the conductor’s room of an impossible machine, they were rising, and tracks were forming just a few meters in front of them and disappearing behind, Agatha wanted to move forward once they were above and clear of most buildings, and so the machine obeyed, they were flying, and they could go anywhere.

And so they did, breathing heavily and moving unstoppably through the night sky to a destination unknown, though what they did know was that this was the day that began the rest of their lives.

[carrotmakar]

Could you write something with Harry based off of Mine by Taylor Swift? Thank You Babes!

Mine

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 2,163

Summary: Harry’s the best thing that’s ever been yours.

Warning(s): Mentions of divorce, mom being unsupportive, some arguing, fluffiness, Harry being a literally perfect boyfriend, I think that’s it

A/N: I’ve never done a piece based on a song, so I hope it’s good. I don’t know how I feel about it but I hope everyone enjoys it.

Masterlist

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Request anything you want here but be sure to read my guidelines first!

*

You were in college, working part-time, waiting tables Left a small town, never looked back

He had just been a small town boy, working in a bakery to make some extra money. He’d sing in his free time, not really thinking anything of it. 

He came home one day to his mom telling him that he had an audition for the biggest singing competition show in the UK. 

He didn’t know going in that it would get him out of his town, propelling him to stardom after the show, sending him on tours around the world with the boys that would be his brothers for years to come.

I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

You grew up in a home where love wasn’t all that present. Your parents divorced when you were younger, neither of them remarrying. You were taught that the most unreliable thing in life was love. It was something that was unstable. Something that fell apart way too often for it to be relied upon.

I say, "Can you believe it?" As we're lyin' on the couch

As you’re laying on the couch, your head in Harry’s lap, you look up at him and ask, “I can’t believe we made it here, can you?” 

He looks at you for a moment before responding, making sure that his thoughts are thoroughly put together before speaking. “Yeah, I can. I saw you and knew that you’d be my forever.”

The moment, I can see it Yes, yes, I can see it now

You smile up at him, thinking that maybe your mom was wrong to an extent. Yeah, love was unreliable, but Harry wasn’t. Harry was a constant that you were glad to say you had in your life. One that you hoped would be there forever.

He was what made love worth it, what made everything about the uncertainty worth the risk.

Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time

Your mind drifts back to the first time that he ever took you out, you had gone to a cafe, had a nice dinner (which he refused to let you pay for), and then went to sit down by the lake in your small town.

You remember thinking to yourself that the whole thing was insane. He was in a world famous boy band and you were a nobody. The only reason that he was even in your hometown was because he was there for a tour stop. 

You had only agreed to go out with him because you thought you’d never see him again, never have to be dragged into the hectic lifestyle that comes along with being around Harry Styles.

Oh, were you wrong.

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

Ever since your dad had left, you had sworn that you were never going to leave your home, stay close to your mom so that you could take care of her if she ever needed it.

One date with Harry changed your whole outlook on that. Made you realize that there were bigger things than that.

And one conversation with your mom let you know that she had more than enough saved to take care of herself, and that if you really wanted to go be on your own, then she would fully support you.

Of course, at the time you left out one very important detail. You didn’t tell her that you wanted to go out and be with Harry, not leave to be on your own. But you didn’t think she needed to know that. She would have told you to stay, told you that he wasn’t trustworthy, that he would break your heart just like your dad had done to her. And honestly, you didn’t want to hear the speech again.

So, you packed your bags and you went on tour with him when he asked if you wanted to come. You made the split decision to be with him no matter what, because he was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you were lucky to get to call him yours, so you weren’t going to let him go that easily.

Flash forward, and we're takin' on the world together And there's a drawer of my things at your place

The first time that you had been able to stay in one place for more than a few days came around six months after you had left. The boys were allowed to go home for a couple weeks, chill out, record some new music while staying put.

You hadn't unpacked your stuff since the day that you took it from your mom’s house, so when Harry had offered to let you use the washer and dryer that was now yours as well, you jumped at the opportunity.

When you came back into the room that you could now call yours, he had cleared out half of the drawers and half of the closet so that you could put your stuff up where you needed.

In that moment, you realized that this was real. That he was yours and you were his.

You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

He found out why you were so hesitant to leave with him a week or so into being home, when he had asked about when you wanted to see your parents and you had avoided the question, tears automatically popping up in your eyes.

Their divorce wasn’t something you liked to think about. Your dad wasn’t someone you ever talked to, much less talked about (unless it was with your mom), and you were still guilt ridden from not telling your mom about Harry.

He had wrapped you up in his arms, letting you cry until you were ready to talk about it, telling him everything. 

He holds you close the entire time, letting you ramble as he soaks up everything that you say.

He then walks you to bed, pulling you in with him and holding you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering, “We won’t end up like them. We won’t repeat their mistakes. I promise you, love, we’ll be different.”

With that, your body relaxes enough into his so that you can both fall asleep.

And we got bills to pay We got nothin' figured out

There were times in your relationship when there were things that went wrong, obviously. Every relationship has its issues. But yours weren’t like everyone else’s problems. The bills that you had to worry about weren’t electric and water. 

You had to pay for hotel bills and plane rides and a bunch of other expenses that come with touring the world with him.

There were times when the two of you would fight over it, you being upset and wanting to just stay home so that he didn’t have to pay for anything. So that you could get a job and help pay for some of the things around the house.

He refused, which ended up just making you feel like you were no help to him. It made you feel like you were a bad girlfriend, making Harry pay for everything when you couldn’t even help him out in the slightest.

He sat down with you, though, explained that you were worth more to him than anything else. He didn’t care if you had a job or not, he was lucky enough to not have to worry about you having a job. He’d rather have you on the road with him, having the time of your life, than having to work a nine to five job that you didn’t even really need.

When it was hard to take Yes, yes This is what I thought about

Sometimes, the thoughts would still bother you, so you’d always think back to that day on the lake, the day that started it all, and suddenly, your mood would be a lot better.

Do you remember, we were sittin' there, by the water? You put your arm around me, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

It always was when you thought about the simple things with him.

Do you remember all the city lights on the water? You saw me start to believe, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

That night, without even knowing it, Harry had made you believe in love. Had made you believe that maybe love was reliable. That maybe you could depend on him. Maybe you could be happily in love with him.

And I remember that fight, two-thirty a.m. 'Cause everything was slipping right out of our hands I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street

The two of you had been in Japan with the band, yet another tour stop on the infinite list. You had started an argument over the fact that you were never at home, even though you’d much rather be with him. Besides, you knew his schedule.

Thinking back on it, you have no clue why you even said anything, you had no problem with being on the road with him. You were just being dramatic. It was late, you were tired, and he was the person that was there for you to take your agitation out on.

Your tiny argument had turned into a screaming match, and it had ended with you telling him you were done.

You had left the hotel, walking in the dead of night in a city you had never been to before, and to top it off, you didn’t even speak the language.

He had followed you though, running right out after you, catching up to you and grabbing your arm. He had spun you around to face him and the look on his face made your heart break into a thousand pieces.

Braced myself for the goodbye, 'Cause that's all I've ever known

He looked upset, so much so that you thought he was going to tell you to come get your stuff and then leave. Tell you he’d get you a plane back to your hometown in the morning. 

You were ready for him to pull the plug on you, to tell you that he didn’t love you anymore.

You were prepared for him to prove your mother right.

Then, you took me by surprise You said, "I'll never leave you alone"

He did the exact opposite though, he proved your mother wrong, yet again.

“Come back up, I’m sorry.” He had said, pulling you with him.

He had led you back up to the hotel room, tucking you into bed with him and promising to never leave.

He assured you that night that he loved you, that he never wanted to lose you, and that as soon as the tour was over, he would request a few weeks off.

You let him know that it wasn’t necessary, that you were just overreacting, but he vowed to do so anyway, telling you that he’d rather take a break from touring than lose you forever.

You said, "I remember how we felt, sitting by the water. And every time I look at you, it's like the first time. I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter. She is the best thing that's ever been mine."

He told you that night before you fell asleep that when things got bad, he thought of the same thing that you did. The same exact memory. Your first ever date. The day that changed his life forever.

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

You realized that night, that no matter what happened, you’d do anything for him. You’d tour with him until you were gray and old if that’s what made him happy. Because he was what made you happy.

Do you believe it? We're gonna make it now And I can see it

You knew for a fact that you and Harry were going to make it when he stood in front of you, telling you that he’d care for you always, and never, ever let the two of you end up like your parents. You believed him so strongly that you didn’t hesitate to look him in the eyes and say “I do.” 

So, now, here you were, your head in his lap, his hand running through your hair, singing you to sleep.

You knew, without a doubt, that as long as you had Harry, you’d be alright. 

*

Permanent Taglist: @spideygirl2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon, @parker-barnes-af, @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @akila-stilinski @babebenhardy @write-from-the-heart, @slytherinambitious, @miraclesoflove @tomshufflepuff, @quaksonhehe, @a-different-brand-of-beans

Harry Styles Taglist: @alwayshave-faith, @hufflepuff-always-and-forever, @sucker-09 @just-chillin-out-in-me-box, @macksmedicine, @wendaiii, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow,

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Hello tumblr,

Boy, it’s been a moment or two. I haven’t left tumblr by any means really in the last year and a half, but it became less a part of my life when I moved to Portland two years ago and got involved with people and had a social life there for awhile and a love life and now I am 30. I started tumblr at 22. I was so much more naive. I’m sorry to all the folks who wanted to keep reading my life story. I do swear that I will get back to it someday, but even rereading it I see things I left out and perspectives I forced on my audience when I could have left the truth more open. I don’t stand by some of the values I had even two years ago.It’s not bad, but I feel like it needs to be gone over. It’s been suggested by people that I shouldn’t do that, but I have a strong sense that I know what I should do.

I’ve been feeling the weight of time and limitations of health both mental and physical, financial and just the circumstances of living in an environmentally unsustainable late stage capitalism position where I can bank on nothing and so much is up in the air. And I know I’m still young, but not that young anymore. I missed out on a lot in my twenties and I know I won’t get a lot of that back. And I don’t feel like I can plan ahead. I feel very trapped, enormously lonely and isolated. I know it’s eating at me all the time, but I feel like acknowledging it (as I am ironically doing it now), makes It bigger and more painful. But it’s getting to the point where I have nothing to lose.

I’m in a situation where I have troubled friendships. People who love me and I love them but there are several reasons we can’t be close. I look at the way the world is headed and I have this lack of enthusiasm in me because I feel like people are going to get more isolated and more unhappy and feel empty and deterministically realistic about the lack of prospects of what they can look forward to, I feel like everything is getting unstable and worse. And nobody wants to talk about it, to inspect it or even laugh about it. I see growing trends of fascism, a sense of withdrawing in ones self and into technology that everyone I know is guilty of, myself definitely included, the commodification or gentrification of acts of rebellion or individualist acts that one can take to protest the status quo through art or media. There seems to be no valid way to stop the way the world is headed or what people are doing collectively, or ultimately how to even demonize all but a select few. And even them, as shitty as it is to say, the same rules of the universe that created trees also created Jeff Bezos.

I feel like hedonism gets misunderstood. I consider myself to be a hedonist and I’ve been holding out for a future of excitement or sense of euphoria or positive paradigm shift for about a year now. It started when I lost my job last year, and Went through a semi abusive relationship that left me emotionally drained. I feel like after that I kept getting on my horse and falling off two weeks later. It’s gotten to the point where I am afraid to lie to myself when I do have minor breakthroughs that I am even improving.

Poverty also got the best of me. I’ve gone through a series of setback after setback and it’s prevented me from even acquiring the sense of relief or letting go or growth even to take on or form enthusiasm about even making myself happy and there is a despair in me beginning to grow that says this is just the way things are now. It’s like I’m just surviving for no reason. I have nothing to offer anyone. I’m also surrounded by people who are very depressed, probably more unhappy than me in some ways, so I’m not about to get any light at the end of the tunnel talk from a friend. I have no doubt that a strong sense of support would probably make worlds of difference but that’s not in the cards right now. Reaching out in my situation would probably cause other people’s misery or misguided outlook on life to rub off on me further. And for that I unfortunately have to put up my walls because I know myself and the chameleon aspects of my personality and other people’s negative coping mechanisms rub off on me.

And see, like on top of all that, COVID hit and that donked up my plans at maybe getting a new job or meeting new people. All the things I could do to reinforce positive new things into my life became impossible. I shut down after coronavirus happened and fell back on some of my old bad habits, which were reinforced by literally the whole world shutting down. I couldn’t fight it if I wanted to, I was living in isolation and frustration and insecurity and even looking around and worrying about all the people who are worse off than me and will be even worse off once their benefits go away or housing is taken makes me sick to my stomach. I’m afraid I am just gonna have to tread some kind of postmodern Great Depression and give up on living my best life.

Something got messed up with my unemployment and it’s been six months and though I claim every week, I don’t have access to any of that money yet and still have to call people constantly to try to correct it. I have over fifteen thousand dollars that I can’t gain access to. I just lost my food stamp benefits. I work eight hours a week which basically just keeps my phone on, and other than that I’ve been making it on no money. I don’t see eye to eye with my roommates, though it’s not personal and nobody really checks up on me. I wonder why sometimes that I am doing anything. What use is it to hope for things that become more and more impossible? And why tread water when I feel like I have no goal I can aim towards? As soon as I get used to the way things are, something new happens that is out of my control, and I am back to square one. I feel like I am shutting down.

Anyway, I am trying to hold out for something better, but more in a sense that I am trying to maintain something. I do have experience with feeling hopeless and empty from my early and mid twenties, which isn’t good but in a way I know that when I moved to Portland I got a beautiful awakening of a life more realized and full and in some way that was so unexpected that, not to sound super cheesy but, it was kind of a second birth for me, and if I was in the muck before and got out, perhaps I can do it again.

I guess I’m back on tumblr with a little more frequency for that very reason. I’m lonely and lost and trapped. Maybe I will do more writing on here and see where that goes. I feel like I could break things down further and get a better grasp of myself if I wrote more. So maybe I will write on here tomorrow. Meh..Who knows? I feel like if I broke my ideas down into topics I could exemplify something or find a deeper truth in the details.

Lastly, and this is semi unrelated but, I’ve been mutual with some of the people on this site for seven years and it trips me out when the notifications say so-and-so likes your post and its been seven years. I am not gonna lie, it is really cool. It kind of makes me feel like tumblr is still kind of a form of ‘home’ to me.

[druddigoon]

so i’m supposed to be working on scholarship applications but instead of writing 500 words on why i should receive money (bc i’m poor) i typed out 1.4k words of bederia smh

anyways cheeky au where bede feels feelings

--------------------------

> Nervousness, worry; something heavy building up in the heart, weighed down like a lagging tail; the bearer of bad news. Guilt. 

Bede lifts his arm up the second Gloria makes a move to get up from the couch. 

“Leaving?” he says. 

“Yeah.” It’s little more than an act nowadays, less for his benefit than Gloria’s. “It’s going to take at least a week to travel to and back from the dynamax sightings they want me to investigate, and I’d rather arrive back in time to catch the tail end of that fair you’re helping set up.” 

She’s wading her way around the coffee table when he grabs her hand. 

> Guilt, stronger now. Concern, rolling off in waves; can’t take deep breaths when the water line’s over your head. Resolve, don’t look back. No fear. 

No fear? Fear and concern usually go hand in hand. If she’s worried about running into a dangerous situation, why isn’t she scared about it? 

It takes him a while to realize she’s worried over him. 

“I’m not mad at you,” he blurts out, “This is your job, you’re the only one qualified enough to handle dens over five stars, and you’re doing it so Galar can be safe. I’d be an idiot to get mad at that.” 

“I know, I just wish it doesn’t have to be--” Gloria cuts herself off in the middle of her sentence. 

Doesn’t have to be like this. There were a lot of things that didn't have to be: Bede’s disqualification, the Eternatus incident, Gloria’s stepping down a year into her championship. Wistful ideations did not rewrite the stars. Both knew it very well. 

> Melancholy. Guilt loses its edge, dips down into resignation. 

She’s staring at the cluster of mushrooms starting to grow from the ceiling, glowing gentle hues of pink, blue, and green. For the umpteenth time, Bede wishes he could read thoughts instead of emotions. Doesn’t have to be like this. 

He sighs, lets go of her hand. “Come on. I’ll come to see you off at Hammerlocke.” 

--------------------------

Rule Number One: Never talk about your ability. 

Rule Number Two: Avoid touching anyone unless absolutely necessary.

Those were the two fundamental laws Bede set for himself during his time in the orphanage. Stories too grotesque to be put into words, stark terror and raw emotion. They blurred together to the point where he stopped caring--stopped reaching out, beat or intimidated anyone who tried to him. He withdrew. 

Compassion fatigue, he’d heard the social workers discuss, after his main caretaker quit. Emotional exhaustion leading to a decreased ability to feel empathy for others. The cost of care. He often wondered if he had that too, how others’ emotions were often so strong it had washed away his own, the dull ringing in his ears after he lost contact. Or maybe he’d always been like this. 

The first rule was broken when he accused his foster father of cheating, when he gave him a slap on the back after coming home from “work”. A day later he was picked up by Oleana, and told he’d shake hands with Macro Cosmos’s pawns during meetings. 

The second rule spiralled downwards when he accidentally bumped into a challenger, back in Galar Mine No 1. 

It’s such a hassle. So much easier to hate someone when he doesn’t know them. Rose is a man brimming with hope for the future, too bright to hold in a handshake for long. Oleana, once her obsessiveness and exhaustion and contempt for Bede has been whittled away from the manicured fingernails digging into his shoulder, is a woman who adores her saviour ever since the day he took her off the streets. He remembers the pity officers doled against his skin when they had to restrain him to be brought back to the orphanage, the desperation of a slipping boy when Hop’s knuckles bit into his lip. 

So much easier to hate when they weren’t all so human. 

--------------------------

In Ballonlea, where the sun fails to filter through the thick canopy of trees, time loses its grip. There is no such thing as a day and night cycle when all light comes from bioluminescent mushrooms, shining here before you were born and after you leave. 

Hammerlocke, in contrast, seems to be bathed in the light of the sun. Dying rays outline castle walls against a wash of red and gold, and shadows stretch over corners, gothic. The air is warm; he’d read somewhere that the obsidian masonry was designed to absorb heat during the day and release it at night, which saves them from temperature fluctuations as a mainland city near the wild area. Save for a few stragglers, the streets are empty. 

Bede is the first to arrive at the pokemon centre, teleported by his hatterene. 

Gloria wouldn’t arrive in a few minutes--she always liked taking the corvitaxi, watching the region pass by beneath her. Bede would accompany her if he didn’t have motion sickness. The last time they rode together had been...messy. 

He’s flipping through a curry catalogue in the lobby when she bursts in, windblown hair and old leather bag and all. 

“Sorry, I had to take a detour to get my stuff. Completely forgot about that, or I’d have brought them to your house.”  Golisopod lumbers in after, bags comically hanging on its upturned scutes. “Hope you didn’t wait long?” 

Bede checks his rotom-phone. Half an hour, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Yes, a whole fucking two minutes. I thought you were fine spending a month in the woods wearing the same clothes, eating berries and roots like a neanderthal.” 

“Oh, I hope Sylveon pukes on your pillow tonight.” The jab didn’t have much force to it, and he doesn’t need to touch her to see her stress; they’ve been around each other long enough for him to notice the incessant tic of her right foot, how she keeps running one hand over another as a soothing gesture, in the absence of his. 

(It’s endearing. He usually looks down at people who fail to disguise their fears, sees them as weak of will, but this is Gloria. She’s the girl who’d faced and captured gods, the girl known to take on the most unstable regions of the wild area and come out alive; she’s also the girl who released them after making sure they wouldn’t cause harm, the girl fretting not because she might be risking her life, but because Bede will miss her. It’s cute.) 

He sees her off at the Hammerlocke gates. Gloria has her back to him, checking maps, while her golisopod is already making its way down the stairs. The gap between them seems to be growing wider, and he wants nothing more than to reach for her shoulder. 

That would be crossing a boundary. They’d talked extensively about his ability, and she’d said yes, it’s okay to touch her, she had nothing to hide from him. But just because he has her consent doesn’t mean he’s privy to her feelings at the moment. 

Gloria closes her map, taking one step down the stairs.

Another step. Stops. 

She looks back. 

Whatever she sees on Bede’s face makes her turn around and run towards him. He doesn’t get a single word in before she throws her arms around him, almost barreling him over. 

> Courage, the strength to keep walking even though each step is a battle; confidence, the rain that washes away all doubt; hope, the fiercest of them all, a steady mantra of We’ll be okay.

He grips her tight, wishes for once he could speak his emotions like she’s speaking hers. Settles for balling all his conviction into a whisper. “You’re going to do phenomenal, you’re going to pummel whatever that dynamax pokemon is without breaking a sweat, and I’ll wake up a week from now with a million messages of how you kicked their ass. Don’t worry about me.” 

He can feel her smile from the shift of her cheek. “And I’m going to come back to Ballonlea’s first town fair sensationalised on the headlines of every media site, and finally get to ride on a ferris wheel that isn’t always ‘out of order’ like Wyndon’s is, because you did a great job bossing people and pokemon around. Don’t worry about me.” 

They let go. 

Gloria heads down the stairs to her golisopod. His skin burns warm as he watches them meet up, as they round the corner, until they are gone. 

[delicateheartstranger]

March 16, 2020

Dear world,

This has been started actually on the 15th, but since it will take awhile to write out everything I will mark it the 16th. 

So here begins my crappy 2000s movie start of a blog. Unlike the movies where at some point my blog will blow up and my life will take either a turn for the worse or better I have nothing to fear because that was barely realistic even back then. Since I wanna make sure though just in case any chance someone who knows me finds this I will not state my name. I’ll tell ya’ll this, I’m 19 years old and will be 20 in October, I like fandom shit, I’m trans, I’m pan, I wish I could go back and kill baby Hitler so I would never be born and no ww2, I’m in love with one my best friends, I have feelings for a guy I met online that lives in Norway while I’m stuck in the U.S., I suffer from ptsd/depression/anxiety/a fuck ton of just not being mentally stable, live at home with my parents right now, have no job, most of my close friends are toxic, and I have no privacy.

I was at college for a few month, but then a bunch of things happened and I had to drop out. When I came back home my parents I feel resented me a bit for not being stable enough to stay at that college (they loved it and want to send me back) so now my home life became a lot worse. I’m in a php program currently so even if it weren’t for the fact that my parents would rather roll over dead than have me work (earn money to get the fuck out) I can’t get one since most conflict with time. I’m 19 and only ever held one real job because my parents claim the house needs to be clean before I can work. I’m not the only one who lives here, but okay. Also I would make less messes if I wasn’t home. Top it off it’s like “we don’t want you working for other people before you do the work you owe us at home.” They have this whole family first idea, but the thing is I don’t feel a part of the family. They decided I had no say when I was younger when moving far from home, I wasn’t a part of it enough to get attention while my brother was sick, I wasn’t a part of it enough for them not to judge me to the point where I quit lots of things I loved just so they’d stop hurting me, I wasn’t enough a part of it that they would do things for me that would be what “family” does.

So yes I will put myself aka my mental health first because you guys never will. Because of the Corona outbreak my area has been quarantined. It means 2 weeks no school (wasn’t enrolls), no physical php, less people in public, and that good old shit. Thing is now my parents are trying to force my brother who’s off in college to come back home AND not let me see my friends physically while locking me up in our home. The most I can do if I wanna leave is go for a walk for like 30 minutes near our house. I hate walking as it just riles me up ever more and brings back bad memories of my parents forcing me to. They tried super hard when I was younger to walk the fat off me. Worked like a charm, said no one. If anything the many years of fat shaming made me gain weight as they didn’t get me a therapist, didn’t think I was depressed, didn’t let me take meds, and all I had was eating to comfort me. So yeah I’m basically trapped in my own house. I think I may fuck up. I’ve been around a month or two clean of self harm, but I know that will change in these coming weeks if I am forced to stay here alone with my folks and brother.

I usually have passive SI and SH thoughts, but within this weekend I’ve had so many that I was close to acting on them. They’ve gotten to the level of overwhelming that it’s like I’m back in 11th grade again. Which by the way, found out one my few friends from that time tried to MURDER my other friend (who is a bit newer, but still) is living in a house for people with murderous tendencies. So that’s just peachy. Oh another friend from high school has a brain tumor which probably will kill him and it makes me super sad even though we haven’t talked in years. I am currently upset about my life choices of who I made friends with.

My three best friends would be LM, DW, and LL. 

LL is a friend I made in my third high school. He’s kinda going through lots of shit right now. He used to realize that he couldn’t drink and that he could only smoke in small amounts. Now he’s back on his bs. He’s also having unsafe sex with strangers he met on tinder. Now it’s find to fuck around. Go live your best life. But if you are having unsafe sex that’s a problem. He is constantly having pregnancy scares (he’s trans). All of this while on the fact that when he’s not too fucked up he’s like kinda self center. I told him like the other night when he was doing better that I was feeling really down given some shit I got for being fat, but I was fine talking. This man goes ahead and spends the whole time talking about all these stories about himself and doesn’t let me speak for like the whole time. And he was like on this thing about how I need to do something, but he never got there. Don’t tell me how to self improve when you’re in a worse state than me. 

Then there is DW. I’ve been in love with him since middle school. We met at this outside of school after school activity. I fell hard. When I first confessed to him he didn’t really speak to me and avoided me for about a year. Then we became friends again due to weird grouping things at that after school activity. Irony was I was trying to get into the group he wasn’t in so I would lose my feelings. Then after we got close again I confessed my feelings, again. Some how that made us best friends? I mean I’m glad he didn’t cut me off again don’t get me wrong, but it just wasn’t what I was expecting. Now here’s some hard shit. About almost a year ago over the summer (2019) we were talking about my weird love life. You see I still tried to date outside of him. Can’t keep going after something that won’t happen. Then I asked about his love life as it’d been like months since I brought it up directly with him. Turns out he’d been dating a girl for almost a YEAR. He just “forgot” to tell me. I understand he could’ve been worried about my feelings, but I’m more hurt that he hid something that big away from me and lied about it too. We’re supposed to be best friends. Course I don’t wanna hear about how he fucks her or whatever. I just wanna be there for him. And so now I’m getting a taste of my own medicine. He is talking about her. How they go on dates, how they had a dear valentines day date, how he cares about her, how she even was in the same php program as me. I wanna fucking strangle her. She used to be my friend, but we grew apart. Then of course I find out that she’s dating the love of my life. Cool. Worst is when me and him are texting and she has the NERVE to try and talk to me. I don’t ever wanna speak to her again. I will if it makes DW happy, but for my sanity and her life I will avoid that. She’s a fine person, props forgot about me and my feelings for him, and doesn’t deserve the utter rage I hold for her. That don’t change it though. All of this on top the fact we’ve been distantly lately. I noticed about like 5 months ago how I was always the one texting DW and that started our convos. How I was the one putting in effort. So I started to text less. He only about 5 times started the conversations. It was over memes and reply to my general instagram stories. I’ve given up and realized if I want him in my life have to do the texting. I won’t let him go anymore. I’ve tried in the past, it don’t help anything. No matter what I try I need him and even if it’s bad for me it’s no worse than not having him.

Now we are on my closest and most toxic best friend. LM. LM I also met in my third high school. She was kind and charismatic. Thing is she is unstable, manipulative, controlling, hurtful, and just really toxic to me. She’s the alpha of the friend group I’m in with her. She can hurt me so much. I’ve tried taking breaks from her in the past, but when that happens she gets angry. She tried in these times to ruin my reputation. She has so much dirt on me. Top it off she lies like crazy and people just like, believe her? The only ones who have been able to see through her shit would be: Me, LL, and MA. That’s it. Not even her own sister can, least she doesn’t show it. It’s shit like, let’s say I was embarrassed by something and felt bad. LM would say I sobbed over it and yeah. Or she also just full on lies about me doing or saying something. It’s too the point where she’s said things about me that could get me in legal trouble if she told some authority figure and they believed her. Like she claims one time that I was about to drug one my crushes if she wasn’t there to stop me and that I masturbated with his jacket when he left the room in his closet. Yes I’m not proud of it, but when I was in a bad head space I thought about the idea/fantasy of having him take horny pills that SHE showed me and offered me. I did also once smell up my crush’s jacket in the closet. Not proud of it at all. I wasn’t stable and wasn’t thinking in my right mind. Doesn’t make what I did okay, but I did not do anything that would be as fucked as she claimed. Sometimes with that old crush she’ll bring it up saying straight up lies like I went to his house. Never did. Did find my crush on white pages (again not okay, but I wasn’t healthy), but never went anywhere near him outside of our setting. So yeah if I cut her off or just take a break she could realllly ruin my life given everyone believes ever word she says. All of that and I’m still a bit bitter over her manipulating a situation where me, her, and a few friends had a crush on the same guy. She lied saying she didn’t have feelings for him. She told us to confess and when we were like ‘idk not to ready for that’ she went ahead and did it for us. He didn’t like us back which is valid. But then she got really handsy and did things that basically helped him fall for her. Now I don’t have feelings for him anymore. If I do imma just push em away given he wouldn’t be good for me. But they constantly do things now as a couple that feel like an invasion on my being. THEY HAD SEX WITH THE DOOR SLIGHTLY OPEN IN THE ROOM NEXT TO ME ONLY TO LIE STRAIGHT TO MY FACE. So they couldn’t see I’d woken up. I was facing the door and they were full on sex. Like I heard the moans. I heard it all. I knew they were fucking. So when they finished and went to wake me up I pretended to be asleep. Then later that day I brought it up to my friend CS (her boyfriend/ex crush) I thought they were having sex cause I could heard them in my dream, he lied to my face saying I was crazy. Straight up gas lighting tactics LM would use. This isn’t the first time they tried that. Even when I was with someone and we both were like yeah we heard ya’ll having sex they denied it and said we were crazy. Like please just don’t fuck when there are others around or at least have the decency to do it where we can’t hear/wake up from it.

All of this said about each one I love them all dearly. And it’s hard the idea of losing them. It’s just so shitty dealing with all their shit on top of my own. 

Now the worse thing happening right now that I can’t even talk to a friend about it that I got my new name outed. So my parents are transphobic, but diet transphobic. Like they “support” trans rights yet do really transphobic things.I came out to them a few months ago and not a SINGLE time have they used the right pronouns. Then when bringing up trans things they have shot me down claiming xyz. I just wanna be me, but the same time I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment. At my php program I go by my chosen name. I told all the staff my situation at home yet the nurse managed to fuck up when emailing and wrote in an email that was attached to my parents my chosen name. So great my parents probably know something is up. I’m gonna fucking cry if they hurt me more. They already invalidate me on so many things I can’t stand the idea of them doing so on something so close and core to my identity. They do it with everything else and most things core to who I am. I had one safe space and the nurse had to fuck it up for me. I just can’t fucking deal with all this.

Top it off the one good person in my life, ESK hasn’t spoken to me in about 3 days now. ESK is someone I met online who lives in Europe. He’s genuinely the only good thing in my life. The only non toxic source of happiness. He brings me so much joy. I’m pretty sure he also has feelings for me or had them at one point. He’s 2 years younger than me and is turning 18 soon. I wanna get him a gift, but not only would that be weird, but he also hates celebrating his birthday. So I’ll just wish him a happy birthday when it comes around. Regardless I might not even be able to since he hasn’t responded in awhile. He has some serious health problems so I am worried he could be really sick. That or he’s angry at me/hates me/doesn’t wanna talk anymore. It could be just my anxiety, but the same time it could be true. I hate that I can’t tell. I can’t even talk to any of my bffs about it since they’ll all be super judgmental. Maybe DW, but even then it’d be hard. I just wanna make sure ESK is okay. He means the world to me. I don’t want to lose him. This is all happening after we both showed full face selfies of ourselves in our last convos. I hope he doesn’t think I’m ugly. It’d break my heart into toooooo many pieces if my looks scared him away or made him lose his romantic feelings for me. It’s not like we could date rn as not only are we an ocean away, but I’m far to emotionally unstable to. But hey that won’t matter if he drops off the face of the earth.

Lastly before I go I wanna talk about this girl in my php program who is legit making me crazy. We will call her LLL. She looks and acts just like my first crush, but if she’d grown up. The only difference is her eye color, age, and where she’s from. She isn’t her, but boy that doesn’t stop my lizard brain. I feel like a piece of trash whenever my eyes wander over her more revealing parts. It’s bad to objectify women and bad that I’m placing this role on her. Plus I’m like 90% sure she’s straight and like 60% she has a thing for a guy in our php group (who is much hotter than me). It’s just so hard since I lost my crush via my abusive grandma. It was her fault I didn’t wake up in time (I was 9) which meant I never got her number. I remember my heart sinking seeing her wave good bye to me from her car window as she drove off. I never really got over her as I just repressed any sense of being not cis het. I only really realized what I had for her was more than “wanting to be bffs” like a year or two ago. Still haven’t had the proper therapy to undo all my baggage. I really hope she hasn’t realized that my eyes linger on her just a little too long or that my feet are always pointing towards her. I want it to be a safe space for her.

SO yeah. That’s like 2% of my life rn plus 1% back story. You guys can tell I say like, so, and ya’ll a tad too much. I don’t know what to do and I have to wake up at 7. If anyone sees this I hope you can give me advice before it’s too late.

Yours cordially,

A.

[a-woman-apart]

Trusting Myself More and More

TW: suicidal ideation

Just a reminder—if you are thinking about self-harming or taking your own life, there are lots of resources available. I will list the two main ones here.

Crisis text (U.S.): 741 741

Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

I just realized that I haven’t written a journal-type post on here for a while, so I am going to take a stab at it.

So much has happened. Today I will be attending my Bipolar Support Group and a therapy session that is long overdue. I’m still doing my level best to be at my Bipolar Support Group twice a week, but I always make it at least once a week as long as I’m not out of town. The resources that have been provided recently have been amazing. A lot of the material we are currently using comes from a website for Self Esteem Anonymous. I know that the site looks really outdated and some places don’t have SEA groups, but the resources on the website are invaluable. I highly recommend it if you have issues with self-esteem or emotional regulation, even if you don’t fully buy into the 12-step “higher power” emphasis.

I spent one week in the hospital earlier this month. I found out earlier that morning that there were some issues with my cars and repairs would be in excess of $300. Due to my situation, that might as well have been $3 million. I was afraid/ashamed to ask my family for help.

While that definitely wasn’t why I was hospitalized, it played a role. I went through work that day in a daze. The moment I got there, I thought, “As soon as I’m done, I’m going to get an evaluation. I don’t feel right.” This was on a Friday and after hours so I knew my regular clinic would be closed. I went to the after-hours clinic and they recommended that I be evaluated by someone at inpatient, because the after-hours clinic intake process would take over 2 hours, and by then they would be closing and unable to help me further.

So, I went ahead and packed a small bag of clothes and necessities and my phone charger. I could not explain it, but I knew that I could not remain at the house alone. I didn’t trust myself to be safe. I thought multiple times about calling my mom, but I knew it would take her 2+ hours to get to me and I really did not trust myself to last safely until then. I did not know whether the intake specialist would recommend me for admission, but I still wanted to be ready.

Intermission: I have been terrified of being re-institutionalized for years. I had not been to a mental hospital in 6+ years. Everything I was taught was that every time you become unstable and return to the hospital, your level of functioning becomes lower and lower. You lose your independence and autonomy and it becomes that much harder to re-engage with life outside the hospital. Maybe I misheard that—maybe this is only if you aren’t taking your medicine properly (I was) and you have to come down from a severe manic, depressive, or psychotic state. Either way, I took it to heart, maybe more than I should have.

Ultimately, the hospital did very little for me. It was incredibly loud, which only made my insomnia worse, despite the medicine they gave me to treat the insomnia. The food was horrible most of the time, and so it did not encourage my already poor appetite. We have to get special doctor permission to use our own hygiene products—as I suspected—and all I wanted was my deodorant, but it was never given to me and I had to use the one they provided. I didn’t bring my birth control pills, but if I had I think there was probably some red tape to get through and it has to be taken in a timely manner. If not, you have to start a new pack and they do not provide new packs in there (which I think is a travesty). It was primarily for regulating my period, so of course coming off of it messed up my hormones. The anxiety medication they gave me made me more anxious. I had to meet with my outpatient psychiatrist to get everything corrected.

The hospital really only had one purpose in my mind, though: keep me in an environment where I could not—or would not-- harm myself.

In that, it was a perfect success. When I was talking to my brother and his family on the phone, I just felt so inspired. I really would have missed it all. I cannot even begin to fathom how horrible it would be if my nephew was asking where I was, and I wasn’t able to tell him. Or, if my Mom had to bury another child, especially with there being so many unanswered questions. My whole family—siblings and all—would’ve wondered, “Why didn’t she just talk to us?”

When I was in the hospital, I made a list of goals. This is nothing spectacular or remarkable. I am a list-making queen. However, I did notice some things coming to the top of my list. Quitting my job, attending school in 2020, having healthy boundaries with others, etc. Some of them were more abstract, but some of them could be put into action right away.

So, I gave in my two weeks’ notice even though I had nothing lined up. I kept the details of my hospitalization to myself from most co-workers, but I was very candid and open with management about what happened. I thought it was foolish to hide because my doctor’s note had the hospital name on it, and if it was viewed with any scrutiny at all they could easily work out what had happened. Also, I wanted to be honest, because I wanted them to know that I really do love all the staff and I like serving the patrons, but it is really just time for me to move on to something new.

It was really scary, taking that leap, with nothing lined up and myself still so fatigued. Without going into details, though, I will say that I do now have a job lined up—one that is part-time and low-stress—that will take me at least into January. I am leaving the apartment and I am being offered a safe place at a low cost by a friend of mine. In January, I will start my classes at a new university—one that is much smaller and more affordable than the 30,000+ campuses all around.

My life was a big question mark when I left the hospital. My main goal had been to just make more money so I could pay the skyrocketing costs of living in my apartment and reclaim my financial independence. I have received nothing but silence from nearly all of the full-time jobs I pursued. There was no “sorry we can’t offer you this job” or on the opposite spectrum, requests for interview. It was the weirdest thing. Just silence.

I know I have emphasized that I do not think that things are predetermined or foreordained. I just think that life is chaotic, but sometimes it forms itself into orderly patterns. You have to flow with the moving energies of life, rather than resisting them. As Don Estill said, “You don’t need to suffer. If something is not working, try something else.” I was desperate for at least one thing in my life to stay the same. I wanted to at least live in the apartment that I had worked so hard to keep.

There was a problem, though. My mom had come over after I got out of the hospital to buy me food, help me with expenses, and most importantly, keep me company and offer support. We talked so much. After she left, I realized how empty the apartment had started to feel. I realized the toll that coming home to an empty place every day was taking on my mental health. The whole reason I went to the hospital was because I could not stand the thought of spending the night alone with myself and my terrible thoughts.

I do not need a babysitter. I just want to have someone there, even if we don’t talk about mental health. Just someone I can say, “Hey I’m going to Whataburger, do you want anything?” or gush to about my niece and nephew. I want someone to watch TV with and share meals with. Even though I have friends, it can be so, so lonely to exist like this.

One thing I do notice, though, is that “my spirit” (metaphorically) rises up in me and often will tell me something. 2 days before I was hospitalized, something rose up in me to say, “That’s enough.” I know our individualist, merit-based culture tells us to just keep trying, that motivational speakers say “never give up until you win” but sometimes you do have to practice healthy detachment. I had been searching for a full-time job for 2 months (or more). I kept taking on more responsibilities at work. I was hyper-concerned about people in my life, relationships, etc. As Iyanla Vanzant said, surrender is different from getting frustrated and throwing in the towel.

I was ready to surrender.

Even going to the hospital was a surrender. I was leaning into one of my greatest fears, because in my gut, I knew that my life was more important than money or any of my achievements. I knew it was more important than a reputation.

After that, I started to make changes, even though they were so risky. I started reaching out to people I knew, asking about housing and work opportunities. I weighed the possible consequences of my actions. My mom had invited me to return home if things did not go well, but I knew deep down that wasn’t the right choice, and I also felt “No, I think I can make it work here in the city.” I didn’t know how. It was just “a knowing.”

I am learning to trust that so much more. I am realizing that I am highly intuitive about people and situations. I am not going to pretend that I am clairvoyant or anything like that. I do know, just from living life, that what you anticipate almost never happens exactly that way. I am a firm believer in hoping for the best and being prepared for the worst. Usually, even if something bad happens, it is not The Worst. Sometimes, too, expectation fails again, and your needs are met beyond your wildest imagination. I must emphasize—your needs are met—not your wants. My experience has been that I often do not get what I want, and if I do, by then I don’t want it anymore. We are so out of touch with what is really going on most of the time.

Just know that no matter how low you are, you don’t have to give up. You need to learn to not be fixated on a particular outcome. Absolute statements like, ‘If she leaves me, my life will have no meaning” or “If I don’t get the job, I don’t know what I will do.” In Johann Hari’s book on depression, he lists “Disconnection from a hopeful future” as one of the top contributors to depression and mental illness. It is so important to have hope. There is always another path. There is always something you haven’t tried. When you are in crisis-mode though, you can acquire an extreme case of tunnel vision. I know I am that way and I have to stop and say, “Do I trust myself to get through this?”

You can have a second chance at life. Please do not think that if this One Thing doesn’t work out, there is nothing left for you to do. Please keep exploring your options. I know that there are many things bad about this country, but we still have TONS of resources available for people: food banks, homeless shelters, boarding homes, rehabs, and churches and organizations that will help with childcare and living expenses. If you are in legal trouble, there is free or low-cost legal help available for you.

DO NOT SABOTAGE YOURSELF.

That message is for me as much as anybody else. If you don’t know where to start, try to make it to a local library and just start asking questions.

You don’t have to suffer.

[ecmlol]

“Ok that works. You don’t have too even see him now”jude say

“ why don’t we just talk to him”noah says

“ you know what Oscar said he’s upset and he runs. Confronting him isn’t going to help the situation.”

“ what if I befriend him.”Noah asked

“ how?”jude asked

“ just lunch talking I can act like I don’t know who he is”

“ if the opportunity happens then ok but please don’t search him out.He’s not a story to chase he my brother that has mental issues “

“ I know jude but he’s your brother not a wild animal.”noah say

“ but he acts like one”jude says

Noah is getting frustrated with Jude because he feels like jude can benefit from having a relationship with his brother. Who knows maybe jude can help his brother deal with the revelation for having a twin.

“ maybe he needs a little compassion in his life jude . He was raised by Oscar. Maybe that’s all he needs.”noah say

It’s not often Jude thinks Noah is delusional or naive. This is one of those time.

“ noah I have a bad feeling about him.”

“ how bad can he be he’s your twin.”

“ he was raised by Oscar and he killed my moms dog!”jude say.

“ ok ok I get it . I just want us to have as much family in our life as we can. We both have been with out it for a while .

“I understand where this is going noah I do but I don’t think he needs to be apart of our support system if we even need one at this rate.”jude say

“ do you think Pax would man up and actually take the baby and raise it alone.”noah say

“ I don’t know but if you want to chase something like a story dig around in pax’s background.”

“ then what”

“ get a feel for him we already know he isn’t loyal and he has had some money issue” W.W.O.D. What would Oscar do. Jude thought to himself. Jude knows this is a dangerous road to travel down but day by day jude is growing to love the idea of a family with Noah.At first he thought that he could never have all of his dreams come true . There is no way he would ever be that lucky. Meet Noah and getting the devils he has figured out that he can have everything : Devils,a husband,and a family.

“ what do you know that I don’t “noah asked

“ the commissioners wife paid Pax to sleep with her .”

“Gigalowe! Are you serious he’s that bad at money management that he blow all of his money and had to sell his dick to make ends meeting?!!

“ please don’t ever make that a headline.”Jude say

“ I won’t. I promise but if I did it would be great”

“ thank you. We really don’t need those kind of headlines”jude says

“True”noah is starting to see that his marriage is going to mess with career. Noah has a lot of soul searching when it concern his career and how he’s going to handle it.He feels like he has to choice between a happy home life or his career. He know which one he will choice everytime. Jude. Period. The life he’s building with Jude means everything to Noah. The devils are as much of his concern as Jude’s.

The rest of the trip noah sat back and watched the sky line fly by.

At the arena

Brandon feels lost like a child sitting in the security office at the mall.Brandon has no clue how he got to the arena or what happened to his wallet. The last thing he remembers is being in Florida sitting in a rental car across from his mother’s house watching his sister play. His busted lips gave him a clue to where his things might be at. Snow the officer of duty at the moment walks in with a glass of water and a monster.

“ your father just called and he’s sending a car to come pick you up.” The sammy Davis jr look alike say

Brandon doesn’t have a clue what his game play is but he needed to regroup.

15 minutes later

Jude and Noah drive up to the arena and see a town car sitting out front.

“ do you think that’s car is for my brother?” Jude ask as he turns to park in the back.

“ stop “noah say

“ what?!jude stops in a rush luckly Porsche have great breaks Jude thought to himself.

Noah looks over and watches “jude”walk down from the top of the stairs .

Noah double takes looking at Jude then Brandon

“Holy shit “ noah say

Jude cranks his head to take a look.

“ I can’t see”jude says

“ from here I don’t think I can tell you two apart.”

“ well you really need to figure something out.”jude says in a worried tone.

Jude’s tone makes noah look at him.

“ I’ll come up with something I promise you Dane.”noah says as he leans in and gives him a quick kiss on jude pouted lips.

Noah and Jude have question written down and Put in the safe. The only person who knows the combination is noah.Noah tooks pictures of every scare birthmark and oddities on Jude’s body. They also are keeping those pictures on a disk in the safe.

Hotel

As soon as Brandon gets into his hotel room his phone rings.

Brandon already know who it is.

“ Father ?”

“ Brandon? are you ok?” Oscar asked

“I blacked out again”Brandon says

“ it’s ok come home and speaking to your therapist “

“ I can’t I’m this close to meeting him”

“ if that’s the case then why don’t you just walk up to jude and talk to him”oscar suggest

“ you know I can’t do that what if he doesn’t like me”Brandon say

“ Brandon I’m coming to get you. I’ll be in la....”

“ give me a month I’ll work up the nerves to talk to him I promise father “Brandon says in a small voice.

“ you’ll be on your best behavior? No more dead dogs?”

“ it was a accident I just wanted a closer look I didn’t know more then one sleeping pill will kill a dog!” Brandon voice changes into something more angry

“Kyle?”

“Yes!”

“ we can talk about this when my son wants to talk.”oscar says before hanging up.

At the arena

Jude is showing his personal security guard around . She wanted to see all of the exits in case of emergency. She is what he imagined Noah’s sister would look like. She almost 6’1 medium complex long legs and dark eyes but that’s where the similarities end. She has dark brown hair not black and she’s curvy like a real plus size model.jude thought

“ sir would you happen to have a list of places you frequent on a regular bases?” Officer Murray ask

“ of course “ jude writes down every place he can think of at the moment that he might go to.

There a knock on the door.Jude and Murray look up at the same time.

Noah and loinel walk in.

“ hey.”noah say as he wave to jude and walks over to Murray.

“This is my husband noah and my hag and Noah’s boss Lionel Davenport.”jude says

“ hi nice to meet you.”Murray say as she shakes both of their hands.

“ when ever I’m with either one of them you can take a break”jude say

“ all right. That works. I’ll go walk around and get comfortable with the building?”

“ sure that works be back in a hour.”jude says

Murray nods and disappears out the door.

“ ok what going on?”lionel demands as she sits down and gets comfortable.

Jude and Noah lean against Jude’s desk looking at lionel.

“Well I have a unstable twin brother that lives in New York that went to the same school as Eve”jude says

“A brother? Of course he’s unstable .Hello I was the man wife and never felt more unstable in my life.That awful. So what’s with the bodyguard.”

“ that where the unstable part come in “ noah say as he crosses his arm.

“ he has a split personality. I think I might be in danger of him trying to replace me.”jude says

“ ok I need a drink. “ Lionel gets up and head to the door.

Jude and Noah both look at each other and shrug.

They follow lionel out.

A few hours later noah and jude are walking into the house.

“ so tell me about officer Murray? Do you think she’s a good fit?”

“ so far I like her . She’s on time. She seems like she thinks outside the box.”jude says as he opens the refrigerator and grabs two beers

“Want a beer”jude ask noah who is leaning against the kitchen counter.

“ nah I think I’m good but I will take a water.”jude tosses noah a bottle of water.

“ thanks”

They walk out into the living room.

“ feel like Netflix and chill”noah asked as he sits down.”

“In bed yes.” Jude says as he heads toward the bedroom.

“ bedroom it is then.”

By the time noah gets into the bedroom after a pit stop in the bathroom jude is half naked.

Noah starts to strip. Noah notices that Jude’s shoulders are down and he keeps rubbing the back of his neck.

“ Dane? “

“ huh?” Jude looks over to noah who is pulling off his shoe in his closet.

“ sit on the bed for me”

“ ah ok” jude sits on the bed.

Noah sits on the other side and swings his legs over and the scoots over to sit behind Jude.

Noah starts to massage Jude’s shoulders.

“ god that feels so good.”jude sighs and rotates his neck.

“ good. So knowing Brandon is here really has you stressed out huh.”

“That obvious huh.”

“ I watch you all the time I can see it all over your face and in the way you move.”noah says

“ when you say things like that I worry a little less about you not knowing if it’s the real me.”

“ look at me.”noah says

Noah scoots back to make room on the bed for jude to turn and look at noah.

“ Jude you’re my best friend my husband and my world. We will get through this and anything else that gets thrown at us.”

Jude nods and leans into Noah.

Noah kisses Jude’s shoulders then the side of his head.

“ I missed us today”jude says

“ I missed our bubble too.”noah says

“ I guess we are back to reality “jude says

Jude sighs. Noah leans back and does a sloppy flip off the bed.

“ let’s go and be in our bubble in the shower.”noah says.

Jude smiles and follows noah into the bathroom.

The week goes quickly for both Noah and Jude. Neither one have seen or heard a peep out of Brandon. Noah has called and checked on Jamie everyday. There hasn’t been a sighting of Pax either. Was it the quiet before the storm jude thought at the weekly dinner that jude made himself.

On the menu this week : Mac and cheese, salads and grilled shrimp.

“ so how is it?”jude asked after he pushes the storm questions out of his head.

“ well shrimp is a little tough and the Mac and cheese could have baked a little older but besides that great job Dane.”noah says with a little sarcasm and a wink.

“ hey don’t blame me for the shrimp I’m not the one that cornered my husband and kissed him for like 5 minutes.”jude says

“ well ok. I can’t help myself you are just so irresistible when you cook and your wearing one of my wife beaters.” Noah said

Jude smiles and touches the love bite on his neck then rolls his eyes.

“ I’m kidding about the Mac and cheese it’s good by the way. So I found my baseball gear today while I was unpacking . Any chance you want to hit the batting cage or play catch after dinner?”noah asked

“ sure. Did you pick up my suit any chance?”jude asked.

“ no did you ask me to? Did I for get to pick it?”Noah asked.

“ no no I went to pick it up today after work and they said it was all ready picked up.”jude say

“ oh . Do you think they lost it?”noah asked

“ no I don’t Think they did. I have never had a problem with them before.”

“ do you think....”

“ my brother took them?”

“Yes anything possible jude . We know he’s in town”

“Great.”jude shakes his he and rubs the back of his neck “

“ ok take a breath and tell me which suit it was”

“ the brown one and I can’t remember the other one.”

“Ok the one I hate and a nother one got it.”

“ huh you hate the brown one ?”

“Yeah I should have rip it off you when I had a chance “

“ oh ok just remember the next time you see it i won’t be me wearing it.let me get it back before you do that. While we are on the subject of clothing. The next time I see you wearing underwear with holes I’m ripping them off you.”jude says with a smile.

“ is that a threat or a promise?”noah asked as he watches jude walk into the kitchen for a glass of water.

“ promise and I’m hiding those “ swim suit” too” jude says

“ I was wondering what happened to them.”

“ I hid them just before making dinner last weekend .”

“ oh so what do I have to do to get them back?” Noah says in his most seductive tone.

“Hummm I have to think about it”jude says teasingly.

“ I’m up for a challenge.”noah say

“Good because Im going to think of something good”

Noah gets a text. Noah’s face goes from flirty husband to worried.

“ noah everything ok?”

“She going to the hospital “noah say

“ what’s wrong” jude asked

“ not sure she said she feels off like something is wrong with the baby” noah say as he gets up and starts to walk away from the table.

Jude watches as noah grabs his shoes.

“ I’ll be back I want to check on them.”noah say

“ ok I’ll be here hanging out.” Jude say

Noah comes back and kisses jude before leaving.

“ love you” noah says on his way out.

Noah was so fast Jude’s response was only heard by his own ears.

“ love you .... too”

Two hours later jude receives a text from noah saying that it was just Braxton Hicks.

Jude didn’t really know what that means.

For the rest of the evening jude does some serious soul searching about the baby. Jude is thinking about everything noah has dug up on Pax this week. Pax’s brother was a baller that died in a car accident just before his first season in the league. His mother was never married and is a registered nurse. Pax didn’t make it through college. He flunked out just before the draft. Jude didn’t want to know how noah found out that pax is selling signed jersey online or that pax is in so much debt it’s ridiculous.

Jude thought to himself that noah has put so much time , money and heart into this baby that he know he’s not giving up on it no matter how much Jude has warned him about it. A part of jude is afraid that there is no way the universe is going to give him everything he has ever wanted in his life.Jude’s gut feeling is that he and noah are going to be heart broken by the end of the year.

Jude sigh and he gives up on trying to talk Noah out of this baby.

Jude picks up his phone and goes on to amazon to look up books on pregnancy and child birth.

Three hours later.

Jude has fallen asleep on the couch reading his new book. Noah walks in hoping that jude is awake because he has some news that he is dying to tell him.

Noah see jude on the couch with his phone in his hand.

Hummm I wonder if he was waiting up for me and fell asleep checking his emails.noah thought to himself

Noah takes Jude’s phone out of his hand and places it on the coffee table.

Jude starts to stir.

“ hey I’m home”noah say with a gentle shake.

“ what time is it “ jude say as he slowly opens his eyes.

Noah checks Jude’s phone.

“ 1245”

Jude rotates his head and stretches.

“ is everything ok still?”

“ yeah it’s great ! I have some news!” Noah is beyond giddy. He’s practically bouncing on the coffee table.

“Give me a second to wake up noah.” Jude say half a sleep.

Apart of jude wants to act like he is about to fall asleep but he doesn’t.

“ ok so what’s..”

Noah is smiling from ear to ear as he bites his bottom lip as he tries to contain his excitement.

“ it’s a girl!”Noah say as he grabs jude and hugs him.

“ seriously?!!”

“Yes I have pictures!”noah says with a smile.

“ sonagraphs you mean?”jude say

“ look at you using pregnancy terms”noah say as he takes the sonagram picture from his jacket pocket to hand to Jude.

“ if your wondering how I knew that I have decided to stop fighting you when it comes to our maybe baby and go with the flow. I download a few books to catch up on my knowledge on babies ,pregnancy and fatherhood.”

“ really?”noah says

“ yeah” jude says with a small smile.

“ god I love you”noah leans in and kisses jude. Jude smiles against his husband’s lips.

Jude sits back and pulls Noah with him. They stretch out on the couch. Noah is nestled in between jude ‘s legs.noah pulls away first.

“ tell me about what happened at the hospital”jude asked.

Noah rest his head on his back of his hands looking at jude.

“ every time I see her her belly it looks so different. It blows my mind.” Noah says

Jude holds up the first “photos “of their maybe baby.

“ wow look at her nose! Are those her feet?” Jude asked

“ yes I have a video you have to see it she’s sucking on her fingers!”

“ really?”

“ yes here she’s was totally spread eagle and you can see that she’s a girl clear as day.well that’s what the women says.”noah say

Jude smiles at Noah’s enthusiasm he thought it is contagious.

“ yeah her nose is cute.”noah say

“Oh wow these are really interesting looking” jude said as he hopes he is looking at the right ones.

“ ok I have to tell you something.”

“ ok ...what up ?”the tone In Noah’s voice says it could be some bad.

“She put my name down as the father. I didn’t asked to.”

Jude sighs

“What about the dna test you know we got the results in back yesterday.” Jude says

“ it’s been like this for months but I found out today.”

“ I think we need a lawyer.”jude says

“Yeah I think you might be right.”noah says

“ ok we can think about this later?” Jude says as he puts the sonagram pictures on the coffee table.

“ so what do you have in mind? Noah asked

“ happy 2 week anniversary”jude before pulling Noah into a kiss.

The next morning

Jude and Noah wake up the next day tangle in sheets .Noah’s head is at the top of th bed and Jude’s head is at the bottom with him feet next to Noah’s head.

Noah stretches his back and Jude’s feet hits his face.

Noah looks down at jude who is still sleeping and smiles to himself.He grabs his phone and turns on his camera app and starts to record.

Noah wasn’t sure how ticklish jude is. He knows he’s slightly ticklish from the fact that jude won’t get a pedicure with Lionel or him. He angle his camera to only show Jude’s foot and he runs one finger lightly over the center of Jude’s foot. Jude’s whole foot scrunches up. Noah does it again but a little hard. Jude kicks him in the face and almost fall off the bed .

Noah grabs jude ‘s leg so he didn’t fall off the bed .

“Nono” jude says in a groggy voice

“ what??”noah says with a devilish grin.

Jude scrambles to get up on the bed before noah looses his grip.

Jude sits up and eyes noah who is on his phone.

“ Jude I’ve been hacked. Wait you posted sleeping pictures of me?”

“I was wondering when you noticed when you were husband hacked .”

“ aww you even used a hashtag. I’m so proud of you.”

“ I said I would try this social media thing”jude says as he crawls to the head of the bed.

Noah smiles when jude leans in and kisses him good morning.

“ hey Dane . Sleep well.”

Jude rolls his eyes.

“You know I did .”Jude says

“ that dick the best sleeping pill ever!”noah says

“ and you can’t overdose”jude say offering his fist to pound.

They both laugh.

“ so do we have any comment”jude asked

“Of course . The one that shows my back and the top of my ass. Has the most likes.

“ you do look hot in that one.”

“ those gluts exercises are paying off.”noah say as he looks through the comments.

“ look at all the flames and heart eyes.” Jude says

“ yeah people love skin”noah say

As Noah scrolls down his comments one sticks out to him for some reason.

“ bigbro925.” Noah say out loud.

He is the first negative comment on the whole post so far.

“ is your brother older?”noah asked

[pockyplay]

Dear 2018,

I really wanted to make some time today to write this reflection about the year 2018. It was really hard, made me realize that you have to fight for what you want or else you will always be there wanting it. You have to make the changes of you life, not the person you love, not your family, not your friends, it’s you and only you. It also makes me sad me that tumblr is not the same anymore :(, i really wanted to go back but i just felt like it was not the same anymore(and no im not talking about the porn being censored lol). I will always remember  the golden age of tumblr like the first pokemon game i got, all the time that i spent having fun will never come back again. Failure is party of your life, I just couldnt get back to tumblr and I remember it was one of my new year’s resolution of 2018. Tumblr was so precious to me because it helped me, it motivated me when i felt alone, that’s why it’s hard to see tumblr dead.

The highlights of 2018 that i could think of is just bad experiences, to be honest i need to go back to my instagram to check what i posted through the year. 21 pictures were the total of posts that i uploaded on instagram this year, and for me it seems sad. At the beginning of the year I was depressed because I couldn’t find a job, I only saw my boyfriend like 3 times and went out to eat with my friends twice. The scariest part of 2018 was when i got surgery, it was my first time and i was so scared you guys have no idea. My gallbladder didnt work so they had to remove it. This happened when me and my boyfriend planned our 3 year anniversary vacation, we paid everything and at the end of the day it was cancelled due to the surgery that happened in 3 days. Also what it got me depressed is that my “family” aka aunts, brothers and  cousins never visited me when i was at the hospital and i couldnt believe that my boyfriend traveled 1 and a half hour in plane just to be with me. During my recovery i felt so loved, my boyfriend stayed with me in my house, in my room taking care of me. He made me breakfast, helped me shower and helped me get up from bed, I was disabled couldnt do anything. My parents were also there for me and my friend who is a nurse, i really appreciate them.

Also my younger brother got married on May 2018, his wedding was cute that motivated me to do the same. During the same month i got a job in a call center, sure i hate it but i get paid enough to survive and get out of my house and live on my own with my boyfriend. That was my plan, to save up money and finally live together with my boyfriend, however, once you plan something, life has another plan for you. My dad has an unstable job, something he gets paid hella good and sometimes not. Since i started working on May he has been asking me for money and of course he is my dad and i cant say no to him. Every paycheck i was giving him $200, $300 and one time i gave him $600, i was feeling really depressed because my goal was to save money and get out of my house and live with my boyfriend that we have been in a long distance relationship for a while. I was looking at my goal each fay further that I got depressed and was about to quit work, i was so frustrated and stressed because i had to help my dad due to the economic situation that we were passing through but i also wanted to live my life. My hair was falling, im still going bald and during that time i didnt felt like putting makeup i was so sad that i was about to give up everything. My mom noticed how sad i looked and she asked what i wanted for life, and i told her that i just wanted to be with my boyfriend and told me to go ahead, to marry him. Since that day i told my dad that i was sorry but i wouldnt be helping him anymore with the money since i want to get married with my boyfriend and need to save money. Currently im still saving money but I dont how to plan a wedding i just wanted to do everything in one day but of course is impossible but we shall see what 2019 bring us.

I did lose some weight due to the surgery but im motivated to lose more weight for my own wedding and for the stream. I’ve been wanting to stream since last year but i just couldnt do it due to the internet speed that i have. I decided to go to a cyber cafe to stream league of legends but my bf and my mom is alredy against that idea 🙄. I see this streaming hobby as a motivtion to keep going but people keep telling me no an being negative 🙄 its annoying. The drawing resolution i was really consistent and i was proud of my progress but since i got a full time job i just couldnt do it anymore.

My new years resolution is to get married with Diego, move out from my parents house, exercise more, volunteering work to get more involved in the juvenile criminal justice community and be happy.

[artgirllullaby]

The truth below this... “me”

So another year huh? And all I did was… mostly be absent.

Come on, I think by this point every single one out there who follow me noticed, either you’re close, far, if you follow for my work, fanfics, or whatever, you saw that last year I did pretty much… nothing.

That comes partially from procrastination, I won’t lie, but… There’s a whole lot that was happening that I kept out to very few, and when I say this I mean that even my parents, brothers and best friends didn’t know some stuff. Only recently I got better to get in contact and talk it out to them and say all the good and the horrible that had been on my mind.

And while I know most want to share the good that happened in 2018, I need to say it wasn’t that good year for me, and to get it out, I want to say it all out and be honest. Then I know there’s nothing I need to hide or be scared of sharing because… if there’s to be known, it’s just to click to read.

That’s why I’m writing this. And because of of the stuff here is very sensible and can be triggering to some, I’m putting on the below. So… avoid the triggers by reading the tags if you have any of them, and if you do but still wish to know how I am, feel free to contact me, ok? I assure things are better now, but if you need a bit more of ease, I don’t mind doing so.

If you decide not to read, just know It’s been a very hard thing on me, but I’m getting better and I’m taking care and getting help and trying my best to keep my hopes and myself up. I’m thankful you cared to read this and I understand if you can’t read any further because of the tags. Thank for considering yourself too and not taking a hit “for my sake”, it makes me actually happy that you consider putting yourself in the position to know where your limits are and to know you can’t go further. Proud of you, little one. If you feel like, don’t think twice before hitting my ask or inbox, ok? Hugs, thanks for being here still.

#personal #me #lullytalks #venting #anxiety #depression #stress #mentalinstability #TW #twseflharming #twsuicide #twanxiety #twdepression #twstress #twgad #twdd #triggering #Triggerwarning

For you who decided to click the button to continue reading anyway, Please remember I’m writing this at once and also that you’re free to stop at any signals of discomfort, unease or triggers. Thank you for taking time to read this anyways.

2018 had been many things, it had been fun and tiring and stressful, and even enjoyable for a bit. But as many other stuff in life, when silence keeps to long it can be taken as a bad omen to bad happenings.

If you ever played Jenga, then you know how it works; if you don’t, it’s basically taking a piece on the base and putting on top and hoping that it doesn’t break down in your turn. Which in the game is fun because you have to think over your decision to what piece to move and not move the tower and the pressure you have makes it fun… In real life? makes you wonder “why one takes the weight in the base of a structure to move to the top if that overweights the top which will obviously make the project/structure fail because the base cannot hold that weight and so it will go down eventually?!”

And well, that was my in 2018, a whole big game of Jenga in which my life are the pieces, and people around me are players as me and the game is ok to everyone but me.

Some of you know, I had a co-worker who had been basically unbearable to work with from the moment she found herself pregnant, and by the law the company can’t fire her until her baby is born and a bit older (around 6-7 months older she gets the licensed and secured), and so after her time secured was over the company did fire her because of her behaviour borderline toxic/abusive toward others. Things finally where getting a bit better with the substitute and things going better in company.

I had been having difficulties with my mother, who has becoming more controlling and hovering over me. If wasn’t enough our communication that was bad begins to go to ruin to worse, rotting to the point I’m back to when I was 15 and I saw her as a stranger. I try to change and get closer. Here is the funny thing about relationships, if doesn’t matter if it’s a friend, a lover, your soulmate, your husband, your sister, your parent, your cousin, your godmother, your father-in-law or whatever that person means to you, as an universal law, it takes both parts and effort to make it work and flow.

And there I was, trying to arrange something we do, we try to speak, to voice out things that hurt and annoys me for us to change for better, because that’s how it should work. One speaks, the other listen, then it’s their turn and so after both saying their sides they try to come in a middle term or a point they can agree on to live better and no one is bitter over the matter.

But that was not what happens. Mom takes the cards I lay on the table and use against me, she takes things on the past against me, she flips the table and now she’s being accused and she’s the victim and I’m the one who’s blind to see how hard she tries to make us all happy and ungrateful, on how I keep pulling distance and I stop talking and avoid talking. I’m the one who doesn’t know she gave up her college, to work and make an career on her own, that father comes tired and deserves to rest for working hard everyday to never miss anything at home, and that she has to bare my sister OCD and ADHD while I’m not there, that she has to keep the house well and do everything… And so, yet again, my voice is cut. I lose courage, my anxiety rises, and I’m afraid of saying anything to anyone, I’m afraid to be a burden, to bother anyone.

I laid on bed that night in silence as I stare at the blank wall and listen to whatever music is on my playlist. Because I know, I fucking know how much their lives could be different for a number of factors, one of them being the fact if I wasn’t born on the worst timing as I did, I know in numbers how much that could have changed, even if my father makes sure to assure me it’s nothing he regrets or I did wrong, I know it wasn’t planned and I know too, it could have changed everything.

Piece moved by mother, my turn is skipped. The player can’t play with shaking hands.

The temporary at work was dismissed, not because someone was finally contracted, but because the boss thought we could do without it. Now, how a company survive without it finances department? Yep, it doesn’t. So they pick someone they think they can reply on to do the job, and then guess what? There I am. Working with numbers and money and it’s stressing more and more since I really didn’t applied for this and it does make me nervous. Then I find a list of mistakes the temporary left and I have to fix, plus more work… and meanwhile I am doing that, my own work papers are there waiting in my table just piling up to the moment I finish up and go do them. Which makes me more stressed, because as long I take to do them, the rest of office needs to wait to keep the workflow. So there I am, working for two, being paid for one, getting some extra hours, and getting exhausted.

My boss moves another piece.

Therapist notice I’m getting more stressed, and things had been getting me easier and some triggers are getting back. I’m getting more and more unstable. She makes some tests and takes another look on my whole history with her on the last 2 years, she also takes a look on my medication and notice there was a change for a higher dose, and now it’s twice a day. She’s worried, she tell my parents to show up and talks to my father (cause mother didn’t show up - a piece of my Jenga went missing), only after a few more sessions she gives me a diagnosis: GAD, aka Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

I’m not progressing in my treatment, in fact, with everything going on with me, I got worse and instead of moving to eventually not need therapy, I need the sessions now more than ever.

My mind moves a base piece, the tower balance a bit.

Things continue going on, everyday begins to be harder and I find myself more tired. Sometimes I get home from work and just take a bath and sleep. I’m missing my appetite, I’m slowly cutting ties with friends and stop talking to them or most of them and taking distance without anyone noticing. I hardly access social media for exceptional to check a thing around here or there. I begin to get anxiety when I try to write once again and begin to be ashamed on myself and my cycle of self-punishment for not being able to write any longer or often, nor I have courage to say anyone besides the therapist all that’s going on.

Even so I try to make an apology and explain at least the part that because I’m working by two and being too stressed and tried is sadly taking out on my creativity, many agree and support and decide to give me the space am I thankful for… Still the two people I considered dearly as readers hurt deeply as I come to known their true meaning. That they already disliked the story on the point it is, that I should have just put as finished and given up and stop writing, and then suddenly other people who I didn’t even know begin to say things on the back and… I just wonder what happened to the respect and honesty I had asked from the beginning. To see so much hate suddenly going out of nowhere was surely discouraging, and on the state I was, I was not only discouraged as I was intimidated to even think on continuing.

Next thing I know is that just as my originals, I am unable to open any of my fanfictions and work on them. I shake, I break down on tears, I get too nervous, I’m unable to concentrate, I begin to question if they were right and if everyone else was just sorry of pitying on me or if they just played along. Then all the files stay in there with the originals, blocked in my unstable mind unable to product anything worthy.

Unknown people move some pieces, the tower shakes.

...

A week can be such a long period of time for some things, and a short for another and sometimes, for the very same reasons. To be fair I still don’t know to say if was a quick or a slow week since there are blanks in my memory and I just have the impact ones. But one thing I can tell for sure, it was a hell of a week.

Monday begins with my mother waking me up and hurrying up to get ready, she still doesn't notice that I’m not well. I try my best to get ready fast as I can, I take my purse to get in the car and get a ride to go to therapy and then go work. I open the door, she already took the car out and look at me; I just have to climb and it will be fine.

She look to me, than take a turn and accelerates the car, so there’s no time for me to catch up. And I am left there with my hand on the door looking on the empty place where I could have climbed the car just by few seconds, but she couldn’t wait because her class was more important than my therapy session. Because her appointment was more important than me in that moment there.

Another piece goes missing.

I’m taken by such sudden sadness and hurt that I wasn’t able to stand or breathe, I stay in the couch for a bit, my sister offer to take me to the therapist in her way to college, I just shake my head. I find out I got no voice, not even strength to talk or even look at her, but she shrugs and go. I somehow make to the bed and lay in there, sleeping. It’s the first time in 3 years I miss a day of work - I didn’t miss even when got sick -, I don’t talk to anyone, I don’t eat, I don’t have water, I don’t go out the bed, I just stay in there and sleep or stare at the blank wall trying to understand what is the feeling inside me. My therapist text me and I lie saying I had a problem, but will show up later in the week.

The next event is after I am able to speak better again, which I’m not sure if was next afternoon or two days. I walk into my therapist office and then find out my health insurance decided to cut the therapy sessions I still had, they want the word of any other doctor saying I do need the therapy and I need to do that in every 3 months or they won’t allow me to continue my treatment. I try to argue with them and reason that I wouldn’t be going if wasn’t necessary, still they say it’s a new rule to everyone so no exceptions. I can’t go to therapy, nor my therapist can treat me out her office, to pay each session it’s out my reach and I already pay for health insurance that should and does cover my treatment, so these rules make absolutely no sense… All I know is that I need my other endocrinologist to give me permission to get treatment, even if there’s nothing to do with her, and the appointment I have is a month away.

Health takes a piece. The tower starts shifting.

I make a huge mistake at work. Because my head isn’t in place I misunderstand the information I am given and end up messing up part of the payment I needed to do. I paid the wrong provider, the other one who does need the payment is stuck and now the central need to find a way to locate the other guy because until the right provider gets the payment he are getting behind track. I get stuck the whole day stuck between fixing my mistake, calming the provider and having to listen silently my boss calling me angrily for a solution.

Work moves a piece. The tower is barely standing.

It takes the next day to put my paperwork in order. the problem of paying the wrong provider still on going, but seems on a way to solution, so I could take a bit of time to focus on getting the work flowing and laughing in a way to avoiding to cry.

Last day of the week, so I can take a bit of rest, I just need hang in there a little bit. Just a few more hours and I could be home so another piece could go missing.

As we get home, my mother gets out. She starts arguing with me and father, ordering we don’t even leave the car, cause my sister needs assistance. I immediately think of the worst as she just is learning to drive and than my father replies it’s not that big deal the car failed her. I am between angry and confused, angry for worrying for a minute that it was something dangerous, confused to why my mother is making such a fuss over the car simply failing on my sister trying to turn it on and making such a fuss on having my father go there.

Things begin to scalates as she raises her voice and begins to argue with him and she tries to calm her, only making her angrier and then threatening to make a scandal and break the car window if he didn’t go. And then changing her mind to do it if he didn’t get out and let her go alone and get out the car.

Neighbors were already starting to look, I was the only in home by them aside the two, tired, getting triggered by all the stress and situation, anxious and then… something snapped.

The tower fell down as I touched to move a piece.

Somehow I took my mother hand and said determined enough for her to get in the car that they both should go. That I wanted them out the house, out of my reach and out the house. She listened by some miracle and I got inside breaking down right after before blanking out.

August 13rd, 2018. I probably won’t ever forget this date. It was a friday, I can remember clearly because it I just had laughed on the irony that it was a friday 13rd and it was being so bad on me at work. It was night and the dog was around me as if he sensed something was wrong… or he just wanted to go for a walk.

Things are blank, as if for the moment I broke down I wasn’t really there, like wasn’t me in my body, or taking control, or too shocked and overwhelmed to notice anything and just let it move and do whatever my brain decided it was best to.

Now that I used Jenga example I find it as a perfect example to explain that blank moment. It’s the moment a player found themselves holding or just after placing the piece and everything comes tumbling down, there’s a paralyzing moment that everyone around stay still in shock watching the tower fall in a mix of wonder and confusion to move only after all the pieces stopped to fall, then you and others try to evaluate how it failed the strategy before picking the pieces around to put the Jenga together again for another round.

That was that blank moment, the moment of wonder and confusion, of complete loss in which I lose myself and the control to the point I don’t even remember how things happened exactly.

All I know is that suddenly I had a knife on my hand and was standing on my kitchen and looking on my other arm.

;

I took one breath, I had went to the kitchen and started to something to relief myself. I took a second breath, I decided to hurt myself because the punishment of all my wrongs seemed like a way to relief back then. I took a third breath, I was just about to cut myself; I don’t know if would be a deep cut on my wrist, arms, lightly or whatever, but definitely wasn’t a good thing that I was up to take hurting myself to that point, and worse, to have no idea on how far I would have gone if I just suddenly get back into my senses in that seconds. I took another breath, I put the knife back in the drawer and close it.

I start to cry again, but for another reason.

Because it had been 10 years. Ten fucking years I had celebrated and considered successful just to find it this demon back again on me. I’m not just depressed and anxious as I thought. I’m back to when I was 15, in this very same kitchen when I sat in the table with a knife on a hand and a bunch of mixed medicines on the other side as I watched the clock and decided when I would put the end.

I’m suicidal again.

;

It’s enough, and I’m done. I just… couldn’t. I put myself on bed, in a way of self-grounding, I decide I will not leave the bed for the next days or talk to anyone unless necessary. And I did well, because I seriously had no idea what I would be able to do if I left that bed in the state I was.

Only in the third day I speak to my closest friends about it all and get some relief, I listen to music to try keep my heart from failing me. I am unable to be back on me again for months, I get back on therapy. I get diagnosis that my depression got in the stage of Deep Depression and at this point, my therapist alone isn’t able to do much alone. I’m somewhere between trying to recover and accepting things are just as they are. She recommends me to get assistance in a group with my family and send to my father, I decide to give a try even if not giving much hope.

My father doesn’t receive the message. Therapist mistook for my mother number and sent to her, my mother dismiss the message and says it’s no big deal and I should not mind about it. I feel hurt she dismissed so easily without talking or even looking up to it, but on the other side I’m also accepting the fact she doesn’t take me as her daughter anymore. And little by little I realize that’s not just something from my mind, as she doesn’t talk that much with me, but with a friend she has with my age and often tries and offer help to her, and then there’s me there. I set in my mind I need to leave home so she can take the daughter she wants to adopt in, and because I need my own air.

My father realizes I’m not well and that my relationship with mother is going from bad to worse to even breaking. He tries to help, my therapist call her in once again to try warn her and tell her. She avoids and miss the meet ups just like a thief runs from the police, and I decide that if she’s not even trying at all, then I won’t either.

My medicine changes to twice a day, I’m still bad, but with therapy back I’m getting a bit better by the days. I decide to travel alone in my vacation to somewhere new and where I know no one and no one knows me.

So I find myself in Curitiba in December.

The city is pretty and with gentle people with smiles and colors around, or so I’ve seen. Maybe it was the feeling that I had space for myself, that I could take a breath and not worry about it. Which also led myself to taking a walk in the grass.

Bad things happened still, true, but to be sincerely? The worst has passed for now, other still to come and, it’s ok in a way. I’ll fall down and cry and be on the ground for a while as I need, and then take my time to recover and look up and be able to talk about too.

So it may had been I took a blind eye to the world and to the rest of you, but the truth is that I don’t. But it’s hard to discuss when there’s too much pain and hurt inside you. and as much it was egoist of me to focus on myself and turn my back to the world, sometimes is necessary. and I learned that now, sometimes it is necessary to be egoist in reason to get better and it’s ok, as long you do get better and know where are your principles.

Taking the trip made me realize that. It also make me realize that taking a time away for yourself, taking a bit to breathe is ok. That my absence in order to not hurt anyone else might have been a void, but was a void necessary for me. I needed to relearn that taking a time to walk on the grass, to look in the sky, take a breath, to look around and take a moment in life… to do any of that wouldn’t destroy the world or anyone else.

The world wouldn’t end because I needed a break. No one would die because I wasn’t able to finish or accomplish something as I wish, just as no one died so far. the one one who has been dying with all this it had been me, killing myself slowly inside out.

Now I do realize that. I’m still far from recovering, I do realize that and know very well, I still have depression episodes and anxiety attacks often, I’m still on a long way to say I’m alright. Maybe I’m never gonna be 100% fine or sane per say, maybe some part of me will always have anxiety and depression because of my brain or whatever but… I hope in that in my lowest moments I am able to look at this moment where Lullaby wrote this about the real me and I can remember to step down a bit.

I’m 25 now, I celebrated 10 years over giving up on suicide when I was 15, and after that… even if I still have suicidal traces for now and dealing with them, and even if I had a recent episode… I guess I can celebrate and count over again, so in ten year I can celebrate 2 times, right? This may be stupid and sound optimist but really… It’s just me trying to take the needle of good in the pile of garbage this all had been. Doesn’t erase the garbage and all it had been, just... trying to desperately find a little thing useful so I can say it wasn’t all Hell and throw it away like I did with my teenage years.

So this is it. I was absent and I’m recovering, right now I’m trying to get on track of writing and reading again. I am 25, diagnosed with Deep Depression, GAD, I have to take medicine to keep in control. I have to change jobs and hope to do soon. I try as much to listen and comfort everyone and make laughs because the last I want if to anyone else to feel the way I do.

And with that being said, I can breathe out and finally put the last year as it is: the past.

As I always say, let’s prepare for the bad and always hope for the best, and onwards to 2019. :)

[wrench-wench]

Good fucking riddance, 2018

The Good:

Dad survived his bone marrow transplant

I went back to school and got ‘A’s in all of my classes

Spider-Verse

lilbit is still out there being wonderful

I finally got my ADHD confirmed, even if I had to pay ridiculous amounts of money to do so

????

That’s it.

The Bad:

     -    Literally Everything Else, but especially the following:

My grandma, the person I love most in the world, died

Everything leading up to her death, because it could have been prevented if our healthcare system was designed to actually, you know, heal people, instead of maximizing profit and minimizing liability.

Everything regarding my extended family during all of this. I get too angry to even talk about it coherently.

My dad’s dog died

My dog died, a month later.

Specifically I had to leave my dog in my baby brother’s care for a few weeks while I helped with my grandma after she first got sick & also helped a friend move. While I was gone my dog started going into heart failure, and I had to euthanize her the day after I got home, from, you know, trying to nurse my grandma back to health.

My boss announced he was retiring in April, and I spent about a month not knowing if the shop would be bought or just shut down. So, that’s why I decided to go back to school. Because I was terrified of becoming destitute, and also sick of the way my family just expected me to get another job to support them while they did nothing.

I’ve been too wrapped up in my own shit to be a decent friend to anyone.

My godfather is slowly dying of cancer, and it’s awful.

My older brother had a mental break down. The tentative diagnosis has him on the schizophrenia spectrum. He refused treatment.

I noticed something wasn’t right in early October, but shit really hit the fan later that month. The first time things got bad I went with my dad to see him, and my dad refused to call 911, and wouldn’t let me call either & ignored the advice & help of my friend who is a practicing psychiatrist. Dad proceeded to put my life in danger multiple times, including inviting big bro to come back to his place, which involved me driving the 5-6 hours home from DC with big bro in the back seat wondering if he was gonna snap and try to interfere with me driving and get us all killed. Btw, dad’s house is filled with guns.

Brilliant fucking idea, dad. Don’t bring the mentally unstable person screaming at you that you’re a part of the illuminati sent to control him to a hospital, with trained medical professionals. No, bring the person whom you repeatedly acknowledged was a threat to the safety of yourself and your daughter to the house filled with guns.

The second time big bro freaked out was right before Thanksgiving, and his roommates called us in to help. I put my foot down with my parents, and baby bro went up with me and had one of my friends meet us in DC and we dragged big bro’s ass to the hospital. Can I say, sitting for several hours in the little room in the emergency department alone with my big brother as he rambled constantly making menacing comments, was one of the more harrowing experiences of my life?

Oh, hey, this second time? It happened about a week after my grandma died. I had driven my mom down so that she could see the body before it was cremated. And had to pick out Nina’s urn, and write her obituary, and pay for it myself, because someone had to keep their shit together, and it wasn’t gonna be my mom. And the great thing is that during the first incident, my dad called my mom and guilted her into leaving grandma’s side, where she was nursing her and making sure she ate, saying that Nina wouldn’t die if mom left and that my big bro was more important at that time. Well guess what fucking happened. Mom left, Nina got pneumonia, and she died.

The bureaucrats in Fairfax county, Virginia, did not believe that big brother fit the requirements for involuntary commitment, so he was free to go after two days in the hospital.

Fast forward to December 23, after I made it through my final exams and earned my perfect fucking GPA even though I was a wreck, after Nina’s funeral in Florida (which was it’s own special shit show that I don’t have the energy to break down atm, but big bro's presence was just the tip of the iceberg), after I fled up to my best friend’s house in PA, I learn that big brother had flipped out again. He was traveling somewhere in NC, threatening to murder my dad, my siblings, and me, among other things. His friends, whom I had previously warned when shit first started going down, called 911 and got him involuntarily committed.

This morning they had a hearing where the state determined that big bro has to stay in the state run long-term mental health facility because the judge was concerned about the “multiple death threats, actions towards staff, and history of med noncompliance”, according to my dad, who was present at the hearing.

So, at least I’m ending 2018 with the knowledge that big brother should be in the hospital for a while, and I can probably safely return to North Carolina at some point and try to resume finishing my degree.

[sow-ay]

"I wish I could" Here's a long blog post about having multiple passions, being frustrated because of that and having mental illness that makes me think negative all the time. I've already been asked to make reviews for books and to share it online to help the writers. It broke my heart but I had to say no because, first of all, I'm incredibly bad at writing articles and I'd put a lot of pressure on myself for that. I don't want to relapse into a depressive episode for a book I'd have to share with people. But that's also mostly because I'd get more demands for reviews and I don't want my account to be about reviews, I prefer sharing my own content. I feel so sorry because I know that would be amazing books by authors that need to be discovered by more people. But, I still think I can share great books I liked and discovered by myself ! Recently, I read in "Share your work" by Austin Kleon that people like to hear the stories behind the work. (but that book didn't taught me a lot besides this, I preferred his book "Steal like an artist"). So I'll share my stories with my drawings if that is okay with you. If not, just don't read it ! The book "How to be Everything" by Emilie Wapnick I finished helped me a lot ! Emilie taught (actually reminded) me that's it's okay to have several passions and to want to practice them all ! That not being the best at something doesn't mean you're mediocre. I'm fighting this thought everyday. That's a simple message but that helped me a lot ! And I also want to remind you that ! This book also reminded me that I simply wanted to create things. Various things in various areas. (get ready for a big talk) There's a little line from a song by Muse that's always in my mind. "I wish I could", from "Stockholm Syndrom" (my favourite Muse song on drums). And I feel like this sums up my entire life. Sometimes I'm thinking about getting it tattooed. This line is in my mind since I stopped school and since I was refused in art schools. I wish so hard I had more time and motivation for all of my passions. And also more money for these ! Passions can cost a lot. In time, energy and money. I feel so frustrated to not be able to make it all. And the internet keeps showing me people achieving a lot more. (or at least that's what my brain tells me). Maybe I just haven't found my balance yet. Or maybe I'm just a lazy mess. You'll see if you read, my thoughts are contradictory. I draw a lot and in various styles because I cannot choose one and love having various projects. I make comics and even self-published one about music, I write and want to make child's books, I try to get better at digital and speed painting to have beautiful illustrations on art shows and to make an amazing artbook someday. I'd also love to draw for music, for tattoos and tons of stuff ! I don't want to limit myself. I'm scared to limit myself. And at the same time scared to look too unstable by doing many things. That makes it harder to define what I do as a creative. I think I'm already bad enough at simply talking, I don't want to add difficulty to this. Oh, and I try to share my thoughts and emotions through that ! That's the only thing that quite works for me when I want to express myself. Also, I'm trying to make a living out of that, I have to admit I'm not at it yet, that's hard (mostly because of my mental illness) and I hope someday I'll success because my illness doesn't let me handle a "real job". I have no idea what to do if all of that doesn't work and that scares the shit out of me. I play drums in a little band with my friends every thursday and that's always one of my favourite moments of the week. I also love concerts. Music is really what makes me feel alive ! I tried a lot to make music on my own and wish I had more time/motivation for this.  (I have some old stuff on soundcloud.com/forsakenstar). I bought a guitar 4 years ago because I wanted to own the one my character has in my drawings. It was an expensive one but I loved it, it's a beautiful one. So I started playing guitar for fun and stopped. I lacked patience because learning guitar is super hard. I admire you, dear guitar players ! (then I also I broke my arm and that's still not repaired so the voice in my head tells me that this broken arm thingy is just a damn excuse to not practice, and that I'm a lazy piece of..."). It was A LOT easier for me when I started drums. I also want to learn to play a bit of keyboard. Just a bit so I can feel better creating funny sounds. I already have the keyboard. I have ideas for videos. I already made little things for little work commissions with old coworkers and that always was tons of fun ! I posted some of my experiments on youtube and each time I see it was already some years ago, that kills me. It reminds me how time flies and how I wish I could do more. And how much time I've "wasted" not doing as much as I would like. I have bigger video projects ! But I can't make them because I don't have the locations I need. I bought a VERY EXPENSIVE camera 2 years ago because, I don't know why, I sometimes get crazy and buy stuff that costs a lot. Like the guitar, like the keyboard. (that's also in the cyclothymia symptoms but I don't know if that's just me or the illness) And I often regret it because I need the money for something more important. I've almost never used the camera. But I could use it for my video projects ! For one of the videos I'd like to make I need a big castle to play something with a rich princess. I have the princess (my sis', I'm lucky to have her to help me in my crazy projects, I sometimes call her "Dobby". Yeah, like the house elf. I bought her the pop figure and all!) but if someone here has this castle and would like to invite me, I'd be super happy !! .... (I try, who knows ?). For another one, that would be a musical, I need a choreographer, dancers, amazing musics..

All of that just seems impossible to me. I would also love to make more motion designs ! I tried to make little animations and a lyric video and I loved doing this, I wish I could do more of these ! That's something simple but maybe someday bands will ask me to do that ! I need to practice a bit more before that ! (I'll maybe propose to do some for a really cheap price or something like that to practice more) I also wish I could animate more videos with my drawings ! I tried little stuff like making a character talk or walk and, even if that took time for a little thing, that was fun. Maybe I could try making an animation of that princess or musical project ! Or not. Making a full short film takes years of practice.

I spent TONS of hours learning a bit of all of that. And must still learn a lot in all of these areas. I tried them all. Loved them all. But I end up frustrated because there's so much to do that I get lost ! I always wish I could do more. If I'd have spent that time doing one thing, I'd be a god at it ! And I'm alone in all those projects. I'm so alone and selfish in my projects that I want to do everything by myself. If I wanted to make a full movie. I'd be the director, producer, musician, actor, make the scenario, film it, edit it, ... How could I do that ? How can I be this stupid ? I'm scared to share my projects. If I do share, let's say, a video project, would that make me a director for it ? Woaw, that's so cool ! But I suck, I can't direct something. I've never done that. How could I tell people what to do ? My mental ghost tells me the people I'll share that with will think I'm a pretentious mess making a project that sucks. And that the finished project will suck. Because I lack experience. ("But you never get experience if you don't try !" "yeah I know how stupid my thoughts are and how they manipulate me") I hate giving orders to people. I'd be like "okay, do this your way" even if I know in which way I want it to be. I did this some times. And I always end up frustrated. I'd be a bad director making bad stuff because of that. Why bothering ? That's why I keep my projects to myself. I know how I want it to be, I know I'm not good enough at it, I sometimes still try to make it and I only have myself to blame. Sometimes, I wish I could duplicate myself. Yeah, good idea, to duplicate the self-hate and frustration. Sometimes I regret no having been to school just for the experiment I would've got in group projects. I often tell myself that I should discipline myself a lot more to find a way and time to make it all. Or at least more. I should get more productive everyday. I MUST get more productive every day ! Why am I complaining and not actually DOING IT ?? *$^)_"*ù^. In the end, is that a matter of time or motivation ? Maybe all of that can fit in a week. Maybe I can find a way to enjoy my passions and make a living out of my drawings. But my other voice tells me that I'm too ambitious and that I cannot really do all of this. How could I do all of that and have a pay every month ? That's ridiculous. I always feel that all of my personal work is a waste of energy as I can't even have enough money to live every month. Would people still follow me if I share tons of various stuff ? Won't I annoy them with content they don't want ? (maybe some of you will say no) But can I do all of that ? I don't know. Damn. Can't I just shut up and do more ?? Can't I just stop thinking like that ? Unfortunately, a lot of the time I wish I had ends up eaten by my mental illness. Welcome into my head ! My brain ALWAYS thinks negatively. Even if I have an ambitious project, my brain will show me only how pointless it is and how that will fail. That's what the illness does. Sometimes it's so strong that I depress and cannot do anything for days. I fight the idea that I suck every minute of every day. And being a "jack of all trades" is hard because you don't have ONE thing to remind you that you're good at it. And I try to fight that everyday through my projects. Every thing I create is a little victory. So I want to do more and more and more and more [...]. I want to share more with people. I know I shouldn't be that hard on myself. But I just don't know how not to be. My mental illness feels like an excuse. After all that time, I still don't believe I'm ill and just think I suck. Well, that's it. Maybe you understand my frustration now. Or maybe just think (like I do) that I should shut up and work more. Sorry about this long post. I'll probably regret writing this in 2 days. If you read all of this, you get 15% more awesome !! (and sorry if I made mistakes !)