#i literally had a dream about self harm last night and now i feel miserable. its a sign

[letthechaosreign]

Found out today that I didnt get the job I was waiting for. Even though I was successful in the interview, they put me 4th on a panel of 6 people with 3 jobs.

There hasnt been another job come up in 4 months. This is fucking awful.

[thebluelemontree]

I know GRRM has previously stated that ADwD!Tyrion is at his lowest point, but I find it very hard to see how he will ever redeem himself given what he has done and what he has participated in. Do you believe readers gloss over the tragedies he faces i.e. slavery, the Tysha revelation, and do you see path for redemption?

I think with the fandom in general there does seem to be a proportional relationship to the amount of careful consideration people give their problematic favs versus how little they give to a character that is decidedly not their fav. Full disclosure: Tyrion is not one of my favs. There are moments I don’t like him and I don’t personally connect with him. He’s deliberately written to be someone most readers will wrestle with. Out of all the POVs, he’s probably the most psychologically complex and fraught with a minefield of trauma-induced hot buttons. As we know, profound trauma and horrific family dynamics rarely produce saintly victims who suffer beautifully, quietly, and always behave magnanimously. I am by no means an expert on Tyrion; however, I do know he definitely started out as a good person. Early AGOT Tyrion is a pretty decent fellow who validated Jon’s feelings of anger and resentment and designed a saddle to accommodate Bran’s disability for no other reason than he just empathized with them both. Even later on, he does stand up for Sansa against Joffrey’s cruelty, even though their marriage was a miserable farce and act of war against her family. Sansa seems to bear no personal ill-will toward him despite it. I think we should leave room for the possibility the impression he made with small kindnesses in the beginning could come back around to foster peace and mutual forgiveness between the Starks and Lannisters toward the end. 

But before that he was a sweet, loving kid until he was brutally disabused of the notion that anyone could possibly love him. I can’t imagine anything worse than your own father violently raping by proxy two innocent kids for the crime of his son being happy and believing for one single second that he was loved for himself. He’s experienced a lifetime of continuous physical, sexual, mental, and verbal abuse on top of ableist bigotry and repeated scapegoating that nearly cost him his life more than once. For all his dark gray, unlikable moments, it’s actually kind of a miracle that Tyrion still retains what goodness he does have when he could have been totally fucked up beyond repair, without any pity or compassion left in him, and hating all of humanity with every fiber of his being.   

GRRM does a good job of delivering blow after intensifying blow leading up to the moment he snaps and murders Tywin and Shae.There’s the overwhelming stress of the trial for the regicide he was framed for, one where his guilt and conviction is a foregone conclusion. The public humiliation and betrayal of Shae’s false testimony where his sexuality is served up for mockery. The people of KL are literally bloodthirsty and cheering for his death. There’s the momentary hope and crushing defeat of Oberyn Martell championing him in the trial by combat. Then finally Jaime drops the Tysha bomb. I mean, wow... it’s a lot. It’s totally understandable why he goes to the Hand’s tower to confront his father instead of escaping immediately. Personally, I don’t think he has to be sorry about killing Tywin at all. That pile of excrement had it coming and deserved a painful, ignoble death on the shitter at minimum. Shae is the only one there that has enough mitigating factors to say she definitely didn’t deserve to be strangled to death, though I get how it happened in the heat of the moment under intense mental duress. I think he needs to atone for that one, and I say that as someone who thinks Shae is a callous, conniving, greedy, low-level bloodsucker without any redeeming qualities. Yet, killing either of them, especially Tywin, didn’t bring Tyrion any peace or satisfaction whatsoever. Kinslaying is still up there with the most cursed of transgressions. It’s major part of his spiral into the tormented abyss we see in ADWD.  

It’s been a long time since I read ADWD as it’s not my favorite part of the series, so my memory of all the details is not the best. And like I said, I am not an expert on Tyrion. The general impression I get is that Tyrion thinks that he thinks he hates humanity and he’s finally become the monster everyone believed him to be. So he rages against practically everything and everyone. He certainly harbors a hatred for the people of KL and the sister sitting on the throne. There is a high probability he acts upon those feelings and helps usher in a catastrophic tragedy out of vengeance. Just as an example, he is aware of the wildfire cache sitting under KL and that knowledge can be used in a really bad way. Might be that crossing a point of no return, which may feel glorious in the moment, is ironically the thing that causes him to recoil in horror and regret after the dust settles. Consider Tyrion’s dream about the duality of himself: 

That night Tyrion Lannister dreamed of a battle that turned the hills of Westeros as red as blood. He was in the midst of it, dealing death with an axe as big as he was, fighting side by side with Barristan the Bold and Bittersteel as dragons wheeled across the sky above them. In the dream he had two heads, both noseless. His father led the enemy, so he slew him once again. Then he killed his brother, Jaime, hacking at his face until it was a red ruin, laughing every time he struck a blow. Only when the fight was finished did he realize that his second head was weeping.

If the two heads are both noseless, then they are both present day Tyrion. There are two sides of him right now that are equally capable of reveling in bloody vengeance and weeping for someone he still loves even though they wounded him deeply. 

Then what? Well, the thing about hitting your lowest point is that you can either dwell there until you fatally self-destruct or you can find your way back up. Granted, ADWD Tyrion is in a dark place, but there’s still space to get even darker for at least a little while in TWOW. It is possible Tyrion spends the rest of his life atoning for his worst actions during this period, using his intellectual gifts (even the parts that are Tywin writ small) to serve the needs of the people he has harmed. And it does make good story sense for someone who grew to hate humanity for very understandable reasons still found it in himself to care about it enough to save it. Even sacrifice himself for it if necessary since there’s a strong possibility he is a dragon rider. Since all signs seem to point to him ultimately playing a heroic role against the Others, we can rule out the idea that he just says good riddance to bad rubbish and laughs while the world ends. That has to mean something, right? 

There is always a path for redemption for anyone who sees the wrong of what they’ve done, has heartfelt remorse, and commits themselves to meaningful and lasting change. It’s not really about forgiveness at all, although that sometimes happens alongside redemption and it’s certainly easier for people to forgive once they see change. Redemption is work the character must do themselves for the right reasons. It’s not a status granted to them by other people. In fact, it’s probably more sincere when someone decides to do right anyway even if no one ever thinks better of them. If Tyrion (or any other character) is unforgivable to you, then the best worst thing that could happen is that they have to live a long life and spend all of it repaying their karmic debt. Even if he’s not my fav or your fav, a lot of people out there still do relate to him and the things he’s been through. A lot of people are not okay and not good victims from the trauma they’ve suffered. Fiction with redemption that is possible for anyone gives people hope that they could be better too, and there’s no other instance in the books that makes me think GRRM is cynical about redemption. The only way redemption isn’t happening for Tyrion is if he choses not pursue it. 

[confusion-core]

Story

Despite the title, this isn't a fictional story. This is a true account of my experience with self harm, because I've heard it can be therapeutic to write about it, plus I want somebody to hear this story, especially if it'll mean somebody else will be discouraged from doing it in the future. Trigger warning for references to mental illness, self harm, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, maybe ED. If you don't wish to read about any of those things, please don't read this. If you know me in real life, please don't read this and just pretend you didn't see it, especially if you're a close friend, because I don't want anybody close to me knowing about these things. Also if anybody tries to reblog this with a joke or make light of it, they will immediately be blocked.

I'm gonna start from when I was very young, so that you have full context, and work my way up from there, because every part of this is important to understand the whole story.

3 years old - I hadn't yet said my first words (I was non verbal until I was 7) but I taken my first steps. This would be a cause for celebration, but honestly I wasn't really in the mood for celebrating. This next bit's kind of shaky because a lot of it is from 2nd hand accounts and I have trouble remembering from around this time, except for the days where I start remembering every detail of it. My mother was just starting to get the full effects of her thyroid problem, but she hadn't yet been diagnosed with it because she didn't trust the doctors apparently. Another thing she didn't trust was me and my one year older brother, and she thought we were out to get her. She'd spend hours alone in the living room crying and hiding from us, one of the few scenes I can regularly remember because I had/have a lot of dreams about how my dad would stand in front of the door, trying to convince us to not go in when all we wanted was to help her. I don't hold this against her, because she wasn't in her right mind at the time, but I do hold it against my father that he didn't send us to stay with somebody else for fear of somebody calling child protection services.

9 years old - My mother told me that I might have a thyroid problem like she and my uncle did, and I couldn't stop thinking about it because I knew that the one reason I didn't resent her was because she had no way of telling in that time with limited information, so if I didn't do my best to figure it out then I'd be doing the same to my kids, but I wouldn't have any excuses. I'd be letting them down, and that idea hurt me on a much deeper level than having been on the receiving end myself.

12 years old - My mother had forgotten about taking me to a doctor over time, and I never brought it up because I knew it'd lead to a conversation with her about how it affected me and I really didn't want to have that talk. Not then, not now, not ever. It's not that I thought she would be offended, but I knew it would break her heart to hear it from her own son. And so, at this point, I couldn't stop spiraling thinking about it, and every time I thought about it I'd get little flashes in my mind's eye of what I was there for, it lead to me laying in bed just shaking thinking of doing that to my children while knowing I could've done something about it and neglected to. One night, I just broke. I wanted to break something but I didn't have anything on hand, so I just picked up something sharp, maybe it was a razer I think, it might have just been a regular blade, and slashed it at my wrist. The first time didn't cut too deep, but after a moment I realised that the pain made everything else seem just a little less high-stakes. I did it again, and again, and again, the whole time still shaking and crying until I was a bloody, snotty mess. I did the same again the next day and the next after that etcetera for the next month or so, but everyday I'd cut just a little deeper. It did make me feel better, temporarily, but the cuts hurt like a bitch, I'd be whimpering from somebody laying their hand on my arm.

13 years old - A year later, I'd almost completely stopped when it came the time of year when I did it the first time, and I started feeling anxious and shaky all over again, and again I did it. At this point, I started feeling sick to my stomach at the thought of food, throwing up and starving myself for days at a time, and other times I wouldn't be able to stop eating. My mother found the scars, I told her it was a one time thing.

... then I did it again, the next year, and the year after that, and the year after that, and the year after that.

Around the 3 year milestone it stopped bringing me that sense of clarity, and just made me feel empty. Pain in general started making me itch for more, I'd fall over and suddenly all I'd want would be to bang my head one more time. I still feel that, and I recently found out that that's because you can become chemically addicted to pain, and I did. It was miserable, I started wishing that it would end. Last year, it almost did when I had my mouth full to bursting with painkillers, ready to swallow when when my mother's dog came into the kitchen. I panicked and spat them into the sink, and sat on the floor and cried. My dog comforted me, usually he's happy and energetic but he has amazing empathy and is seriously good at reading the room when it matters. People keep asking me why he suddenly became my favourite thing in the world overnight, and I just tell them he's cuter but in reality it's because I literally owe him my life. I would actually be dead if it weren't for him, and I love him for that, and the fact that he knew just how to help.

16 years old - New Year's Day, I was helping my family set up for dinner. Everything started looking kind of blue for some reason, I was getting tunnel vision and suddenly I felt dizzy, as if I were drunk. I wanted to mention this but my mother was saying something and I didn't want to interrupt, even though I couldn't understand a word she was saying, and being a pushover became my downfall. My vision went dark, but I could tell I was still standing, and I could see a bunch of shapes and lines in white in the darkness, and what appeared to be the outline of a person facing away from me. I couldn't see anywhere I was going, and I just stumbled blindly. After about 5 seconds, I felt something on the back of my knee and toppled, and as I hit the floor my vision suddenly came back. I was splayed out on the floor, my sister was looking at me and my mother and panicking, asking me what was going on, and I just kept telling her I didn't know. She said she was going to take me to a doctor, but never got round to it, and after a while I realised that it was a hallucination, since I still get them sometimes on much lower levels like hearing slide whistles and circus music. I digress, though, the night of that New Year's, I was still shaken by what happened and when I went to grab a glass in my bedroom I didn't close my hand and it smashed against the floor. I was still shaken, and in kind of a daze, and I took one of the shards and dragged it straight across my arm. Then several more times.

Now - it's been almost half a year since I last did it, and yeah, I still have nightmares about being an infant with a chemically imbalanced mother, and I'm still not sure if I have a thyroid problem or not, and I can't look at shadows without being reminded of New Year's Eve, but this is all shit I could've worked out in therapy. Now, I turn into a sniveling shaking mess acting like a scolded puppy whenever I hear a glass break, I can't listen to my favourite song because I listened to it while doing the deed once, and I literally have a chemical addiction to pain. None of the latter would've been true if I hadn't done it that one very first time, so to anybody who wants to "try it out" or "see what it's like", please, I beg of you, don't do it. It's not worth the youth it'll take away from you.

[werevulvi]

Hi, could you tell me more about your autism and diagnosis and how you deal with it, how old you were diagnosed

I don't know a lot about my autism, tbh, as I never bothered to read up on it and I was never properly informed on it. But what I do know is that I learned slowly as a kid, learned to walk at age 3, was very clumsy (like medically abnormally clumsy physically, could barely run at all and couldn't climb, etc) required special treatment to learn how to eat as a toddler because I hated the sensory experience of solid food and chewing, I was incapable of understanding sarcasm, interpreted everything literally, I was stimming a lot, had monotone body language and speech, etc. I was very obviously "different" according to my parents already from around age 1 or 2, and required literally constant attention for the first 4 years of my life. Started daycare at age 4, in small groups.

Then as I started school at age 6, apparently the school nurse had told my parents that I'm probably autistic, so I consider that my "inofficial diagnosis" but they decided to ignore that and didn't tell me (until 10 years later.) I was bullied in school for being "the weird kid" by both classmates and teachers who thought I was a retard and annoying, basically, I guess. I was called a freak and weirdo a lot. But like I was proudly a weirdo, and resented normativity.

As I got up into ages 10-12 my depression and DID symptoms (alter) kinda took over and became more prominent than my autism symptoms, as I wasn't as physically clumsy anymore and started learning social cues. My mental health continued to decline over the next few years, until I sought out therapy on my own at age 16. It led me to doing my first few suicide attempts, which led me to ending up at a closed psychiatric ward.

While staying there for a few weeks, I got evaluated for autism (without knowing that's what I was tested for) as well as a few physical things, such as my hearing impairment and chronic headache. And those tests led to an official Asperger Syndrome diagnosis, when I was 16, by the very end of year 2005. I also got diagnosed with borderline psychosis and mild depression, and got pumped full of anti-depressants and anti-psychotic (neuroleptic) drugs. Then my mom finally told me that she basically always knew about my autism, and I was really pissed at her for not having told me before. I resented my autism diagnosis right from the start, and the older I got, the more I resented it. Never identified with it, only ever saw it as a huge burden.

Then throughout the rest of my teens, I went to a school for neurodivergent people (basically upper high school) but still flunked it. I was a complete and utter mess, and got little to no actual therapy. They just kept shoving me around from one psychiatric department to another, due to my comorbid issues, no one could help me, it seemed. Every once in a while I'd make another half assed suicide attempt to make them take me seriously, which only worked for a few months at a time. In total, I've made 19 suicide attemps over 12 years. Oh lord, psychiatry was so bad!

Adulthood came along and I got benefitted with sickness compensation, and got my first apartment at age 20. It didn't go great. I accidentally flooded it and had to move out, and didn't manage to keep it clean or anything while I lived there. I was barely functional and alcoholic, constantly self-harming, just to try to manage attending school. Despite getting help from caretakers offered by the state (?) weekly, I was really dysfunctional. I switched apartments several times, and kept flunking school while trying to live my miserable life, always hanging by a thread. Until I moved back to my parents at age 23. They had moved to a miserable island far away from all my friends. Got an apartment on that island close to my parents, but my issues continued being the same level of awful, up until about age 27.

What this has to do with my autism is that... uh, I basically understand it as that it impedes on my executive function really dramatically, and like although I can physically do pretty much anything, mentally I just somehow can't. Especially repeatedly, and often enough. Like I can't keep any routine for the life of me, not even simple shit like sleep cycle, eating habits, brushing my teeth, etc. Let alone school or a job, or even hobbies. Everything is infrequent and too seldom, if at all. So everything in my life keeps falling apart as I basically have no foundation to stand on, and I get sensory overload suuuuper easily. So like just going shopping/cleaning/laundry/hobbies/school/anything for half an hour can drain me significantly and make me incapable of managing doing anything else for the rest of that entire day. It's very hard for me to explain, but it's like I only ever have 3 spoons per day, but most things requitre 10+ spoons, so I go backwards on my energy resources a lot and end up having to rest for DAYS after just one hour's activity.

At age 27 I ditched the social service caretakers, as they were seriously depriving me of my privacy while being largely unhelpful, and I began to finally try to pull myself together. I still get a lot of help from my mom, with anything from paying my bills and grocery shopping, to driving me places and dealing with soul-sucking authorities for me. This takes off a lot of the burden and allows me to manage doing at least a few things on my own, like working out, cleaning (yay I manage keeping my apartment clean nowadays!), laundry, occasional shopping, art projects, online socialising, etc. I still go to therapy biweekly but it's still largely unhelpful. At least I managed to make them stop tossing me around between departments like a football though, and I'm still gonna try to get some proper trauma therapy, and maybe also look into that adhd group I was promised last year, if it'll ever resume again post-corona...

I've still never had a job in my life and still have incomplete grades. But I got permanent sickness compensation now, so that's neat. At least I don't have to worry financially. I'm also trying to get started with some "work training" stuff which is basically "pretend work" for people who can't work, just to have something to do. I'll most likely be granted acces to that. However, it seems irony is that most of those are located out in the middle of nowhere where no buses go, and I can't afford a fucking car or driver's licence because I can't work. Mom probably won't drive me several times a week for that. Fucking fantastic. Makes me almost wanna kill someone... argh! Those little things really piss me off.

Life is absolutely not going the way I want and I blame my autism for it, mostly. I am drowning in frustration, and my anger issues making me scream my lungs out in pure despair, shows that. I'm considered offically disabled due to my autism, and it just fucking sucks ass. How lonely, under-stimulated yet easily over-stimulated, bored, meaningless and unfulfilled my life is. There are far more severely autistic people out there who somehow manage to live far more functional lives, and I'm jealous of that. I dunno how to break free from this misery. It feels like the only thing I've ever managed to accomplish in life is transitioning genders, and making art that I don't wanna sell. I wanna have a "normal" job, a car and driver's licence, I wanna have cats and a social life, I want parties at night clubs again, I want hobbies outside of my home; hookups, friends and lovers; I want to be able to have a functional romantic life with someone I can marry and start a family with.

But is any of that ever gonna happen? I hope so, but it feels bleak. Because my autism feels like such a huge burden on my life, and a huge hindrence to my dreams and goals... like I'm over 30 already and still a disabled and having my mom living half my life for me, miserable mess and not given any useful therapy, I'm left to my own vices to figure out how to adult... Because of all that, I hate my autism and I wish there was a cure, I swear to fuck. So for your question, how I deal with it: not fantastically. Not sure if you wanted a relay of my entire life, but I hope that’s okay! Didn’t know how else to answer your questions.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #369

“so close, no matter how far  /  couldn’t be much more from the heart  /  forever trusting who we are  /  and nothing else matters”

What are three emotions you experience regularly? Sadness, shame, and stress. Is there someone right now whom you really wish would care for you? -___- Does your job allow visible tattoos? I don’t have a job, but quite honestly, I probably wouldn't take a job that didn't. I just love tattoos a lot and plan on having many, and ignorance and old-fashioned bullshit isn't gonna stop me. Do you know anyone that’s transgender? Yes. Do you think dress codes are unfair? In some places, like schools, yes. Are in a relationship? Tell me about it. I'm not. How is your road rage? I don't have road rage. By god does my sister, though. Favorite cosmetic brands? I don't wear makeup nearly enough to have a preference. The beach or the pool? The pool. I hate the feeling of sand, plus the salty wind and heat. Manga or anime? Anime. Favorites for manga? I've never read any. It's tempting to read Deadman Wonderland since it continues off the very short anime, but I just don't want to. Manga isn't my style. Favorites for anime? Fullmetal Alchemist (including Brotherhood), Ginga Densetsu Weed, and Deadman Wonderland. Favorite academic subject? English. A card game that you’re good at? I'm not exceptionally good at any. Do you eat breakfast? Pretty much always. A popular book you haven’t read yet? To Kill A Mockingbird, to name one I feel like everyone had to read in school. Do you like sweaters? I'm an oversized hoodie person, really. I don't like the look of zippers. Do you like sushi? Never tried it, never will. Do you wear prescription glasses? Yes. I badly need a new pair, because I can't see for shit. Generally, are you more likely to blame others or yourself for problems you experience? Myself. What is one thing about your life that you don’t ever see changing, even if you might wish it would? I have a feeling I'll always have some degree of social anxiety. I'm sure there are other things just not coming to me. At what point in your life have you been the most social or had the most friendships? And at which point have you been the least social? I had the most friends in my childhood years, probably. Or high school when I actually had a friend group. I'm sure I was most social as a kid in elementary school, not dealing with my social anxiety. I've been the least social like... now, honestly. I go essentially nowhere and have very few friends. Do you prefer to have a few close friends or a bunch of random acquaintances? Which would describe what you have now? I want close friends. I have like... two or so close friends and a handful of acquaintances. I don't know which I have "more" of when you consider the actual level of friendship/"quality" I guess. Do you journal? Generally, what do you write about? Do you find it helpful to get your thoughts out that way, or do you prefer another form of self-expression? I don't actually journal, but you could consider these surveys my "journal." I guess it's kinda why I do them so frequently? Like it lets me get stuff that's going on out, so I find it kinda therapeutic versus keeping all my thoughts jumbled up in my head. Have you ever been somewhere and REALLY didn't like a food that you were expected to eat? How did you deal with this? Are you someone who is likely to suck it up and be polite or refuse and save your taste buds? To start off, I am VERY bad at sucking it up and eating something I don't like. My gag reflex is very strong, and I'm also extremely sensitive to textures I don't like, so my reactions are just very involuntary. I can try to subdue my expression when I dislike something, buuut that's extremely difficult. But anyway, yes, I've been to places where I definitely disliked the food, especially this one occasion where we went to a local Southern cooking restaurant that literally ASSUMED you want the staple foods and sweet tea, none of which I enjoy. While everyone else was eating, I just very awkwardly sat there doing nothing and pretty much panicking over looking rude. Thank god, Ashley's father-in-law noticed and called over the waiter for me to actually order something, the way it should be. I was very thankful but still felt bad. What is one way in which you compare yourself to others? In this comparison, do you regard yourself as better or worse off than the people to whom you usually do the comparing? I am very bad and comparing successes with others, but only in ways that demeans me. Like I look at others and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?" It always leads to anger and disgust of myself. What is something you’ve been particularly grateful for lately? I've thought a lot lately about how thankful I am to have my mom. She does so very much for me, and I don't think I could absolutely ever repay her in full. I wish I could. She's a damn superhero. What kind of change or opportunity would be the biggest help in your life right now? I was initially going to say getting a job, but thinking about it, getting to my goal weight might be an even greater help. It would help my leg pain, not having to carry as much around, I'm sure my hyperhidrosis wouldn't be as bad (I hope), and it would MASSIVELY affect my happiness. Like I cannot tell you how negatively my weight has damaged my self-esteem, confidence, and peace with myself. Is there one emotion that you experience more often than any other? Is there an emotion you rarely ever experience? I'd say I experience stress more than anything. I'm always thinking of something that's causing a ruckus in my life. A rare emotion for me is uhhhh jealousy, even though I've dealt with it more lately. What is one illness you are afraid of having? Do you know anyone who has faced this illness? The disease that I think scares me more than any is Alzheimer's/dementia. I just... cannot possibly imagine. How do you tend to behave when you’re sick? What kinds of things do you like people to do for you, if anything, to help you feel better? I'm very mopey and tired, and I can be a bit more irritable. I really, really appreciate help with things like chores when I'm not feeling well. When was the last time you did something you were proud of? Were other people proud of you as well? Does it matter to you whether or not other people care about your accomplishments, or is your own satisfaction enough? It's a very small thing, but I weaned down from having two cans of soda a day to just one. Mom is proud of me for it, which I appreciate a lot. Admittedly, it does kinda matter to me that those who know it's a big deal to me see and care about my accomplishments. I'm bad about needing external validation. What is your least favorite thing about the season you’re currently experiencing? Are you okay with most types of weather, or are you only happy under certain conditions? Ugh, the heat. Spring and summer are miserable to me because I veeery much love the chilly weather and no damn humidity. Have you made any changes to your style or “look” lately? How often do you change your appearance, hairstyle, fashion, etc? Or is it a pretty constant thing? No; my style is pretty constant. What was the last thing you felt hopeful about? Do you think there’s a good chance of whatever-it-is working out in your favor, or not so much? Getting a job at the tattoo parlor. I'm fearful that they won't be open to the position I'd like, so I'm trying to not get my hopes up too high. We'll find out in two days. Have you ever “recovered” from anything? What does “recovery” mean or look like to you? Yes, a traumatic breakup. I'd say recovery is just healing as much as possible from something, be it physical or emotional. What are some ways your childhood differed from those of others around you? Do you think this difference was harmful or advantageous in the long run? My dad was an alcoholic, if that qualifies. That definitely isn't a *normal* thing for someone's childhood. I think it was harmful, honestly, especially because I've had more than a few nightmares about my dad drunk. When was the last time you did something out in nature? Do you notice a dip in your mood when you don’t get enough of the Great Outdoors? Oh jeez... Probably not since Sara and I went catfishing with my dad. I wandered around with her some as she ventured for toads, haha. I don't really notice a dip in my mood, just because I'm so used to being indoors. I do prefer getting some time with nature, it's just hard and uncomfortable with how easy I sweat, and my knees sure do cuss me the fuck out in the form of a billion cracks if I walk much (by my standards...). What did you dream about last night? I had two dreams, but I only remember one, in which a giant green tree python was eating me backwards so I was conscious through it all. No hard feelings, I still want one as a pet, haha. They're GORGEOUS snakes and no, absolutely cannot eat you even if it tried its damnedest. What were your childhood dreams? To be a paleontologist, then a vet. What are your dreams now? If we're talking career-wise, to be a nature and wildlife photographer that gets to travel a lot. What are some Halloween costumes you would like to wear in the future? I've mentioned that #1 on my list is Ms. Oogie Boogie, then uhhhh... wow, I'm surprised I'm blanking, because I know there are lots I've thought of. Were you born with hair on your head? Yes. Would you rather have a home birth or hospital birth? I'm not having kids, but holy mother of fuck I'd have my baby at a hospital with a goddamn epidural. I do NOT know how some people can do it naturally, bigass props to them. Do you currently live in the house you grew up in? No. If not, what do you miss about it?^ It was just in general a nice house, the best one we've lived in. We had a pretty big yard too, so lots of room to play around as kids. What’s your favorite type of yogurt? I'm not a big yogurt person, really. What were your high school’s team colors? Red and white. Who were your best friends in high school? Hannia, Girt, Maria, Megan, Dennis, Dakota... What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? A tarantula. *puppy eyes emoji* Were there any subjects in school that were really easy for you? If so, what? English courses were very easy for me, and I was pretty good with science. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? Not like, a whole grade, but I surpassed Writing I in my last college endeavor and started out in Writing II instead. What’s your favorite rock band? Oh brother, you can't ask me this. Who’s your favorite country singer? I consistently like Tim McGraw a bit. How many drawers does your dresser have? My dresser is unnecessarily big. There's like five or six. Have you ever taken a picture at the perfect moment? Yes. One of my favorite pictures I've taken was at Ashley's gender reveal for Emerson; even she didn't know. When her husband pulled the fog thing and it was pink, her expression was just priceless. Was your first car used or new? I haven't had my first personal car. How did you discover your favorite band? By going through my mom's CDs when I was getting into rock music. Ozzy was the first truly metal and not rock band that I ventured into. What was the last big decision you made? BIG decision... I don't know. Probably dropping out of college. What is your favorite thing to go shopping for? I love window shopping for pets online, haha. What was the last thing you changed your mind about? A political stance. Who was the last friend you saw, and what did you do together? Oh yikes, it's been more than a while... It may have been Girt? In which case we probably watched TV or played board games together. Who tends to show up in your dreams? Do you ever wonder if you appear in anyone else’s dreams? Jason just loves to show up in my dreams more than anyone else. I don't really wonder that, no. What is something you wish you could say to someone who is no longer in your life, or something you wish they could know? I wish I could tell Bryar (Jason's friend I got in a fight with) I misunderstood something he said to me ("martyr" has two different definitions, and I somehow didn't know the modern one at the time) that made me seem like an absolute, attention-seeking bitch. It's so fucking embarrassing to look back on, because I agreed with him because I thought he meant it as I would die for my beliefs, which is true. What worries you most about your future? Whether or not I'll ever be in the physical shape I want to be in again. Or if I'll have a stable job. What is something you do to feel better when you’re scared? Find distractions, like funny YouTube videos. I also engage in deep breathing and grounding methods. What is the strangest book you have ever read? How did you find out about it? Oh my god, in elementary school, we read a book where everything a boy touched turned to chocolate. Weird book. Do you prefer to watch movies or tv alone or with other people? Is there anything you refuse to watch alone? Other people, definitely. I like having someone to talk to and comment on what we're watching. There's nothing I won't watch alone. What was the subject of the last video you watched? It was a let's play.

[makeste]

Top 10 Favorite Deku Moments

so it’s Deku’s birthday today!! and since he is the best boy in the world and I love him, I am going to do one of those “top ten favorite...” lists for him just like I did for Kacchan back in April. these are going to be in chronological order, and the last two will be spoilers, so I’ll label them to make sure no one gets caught unawares.

happy birthday Deku. and this post turned out to be super long, like 4000 words, so I’m sorry, but you deserve it though.

1. “Most of the top heroes show signs of greatness even as children.”

okay so before I get started, let me just warn y’all upfront that a full four out of ten of these moments will involve Bakugou. I’ve said before that the relationship between Izuku and Katsuki is full stop my favorite part of the series, and this is absolutely still true, so yeah.

that being said, what makes this particular scene one of my favorites isn’t just that it’s an important moment between them (I’ll get into that relationship more two entries down); it also just so happens that this is the crucial moment which everything else in the series can ultimately be traced back to. this is the moment that inspires All Might to hand his power down to a quirkless middle-schooler, because despite being virtually powerless, Izuku proves that he has the heart and soul of a hero. he moves without thinking, without any kind of plan. it’s extraordinarily stupid, and incredibly selfless. it doesn’t matter to him that he has no way to actually fight this villain. it doesn’t matter that less than an hour ago, Bakugou was taunting him and burning his notebook. it doesn’t matter that he could easily be hurt or killed. the only thing that matters is that someone needs help. that’s it. it’s that simple. 

what makes Izuku a hero is that he is literally incapable of standing by and not taking action in moments like this. he acts on reflex to save others. his instinct in moments of danger and despair is to help, in any way he can. that’s the core of his character. and it shines through in this moment, and All Might sees it immediately, and it spurs him to take action, and from here on out everything changes.

2. “He didn’t utilize his full power. He just concentrated it into his fingertip...!”

fast-forward to the first day of superhero school, and our boy finds himself immediately in a tight spot again because his teacher is a stern and unsympathetic asshole whose way of showing consideration for his students is to mercy-expel anyone he deems not up to par. problem is, Izuku can’t actually use his new quirk without blowing himself up from the inside out, and he’s competing against what is probably the most gifted group of students U.A. has ever had. this is what is commonly referred to as “a pickle.” a jam. a quandary, if you will. if he breaks all his bones to pass the test, Aizawa will flunk him anyway. what’s a little green hero to do.

Izuku solves this problem in a typical Izuku fashion, meaning that his solution is somehow reckless, self-sacrificing, and frankly brilliant in its simplicity. rather than break all of his bones, Izuku sacrifices one (1) bone in order to launch a baseball into space, thus proving he can adapt his quirk to be useful without taking himself out and just adding to the problem. it’s worth noting that this is only his second-ever time using One for All, too. the fact that he has never had a quirk in his life up til this point and yet manages to control OFA to this degree on just his second go-around is damn impressive.

but what’s even more impressive is the way he simply outsmarts the test here. he calmly takes in the situation, thinks about the options at his disposal, and arrives at a logical solution that most people wouldn’t even have considered, because it involves intentionally breaking his own finger, which is an absurdly self-destructive thing to do just to pass a damn fitness test. but it works!! and it impresses the shit out of Aizawa too. and I just really love this moment because it’s such a perfect example of Deku both being smart and also just plain not giving a fuck and being the plussest ultra ever omfg.

3. “I can’t say much. But you should know this, at least...!”

so now we come to the second moment on this list involving Kacchan, and already there is a pattern emerging here: namely, that these moments of conflict and then reconciliation between the two of them inevitably end up being some of the most pivotal moments in the series. this particular scene comes on the heels of their battle in All Might’s first hero class, during which Deku soundly defeats Bakugou and makes it clear beyond all doubt that HE IS HERE!! and not going anywhere and Bakugou is just going to have to deal. Bakugou does a very poor job of dealing, however, and spends the rest of the afternoon super-quiet and caught up in his inferiority complex and convinced that Deku has been hiding this from him their whole childhood just to fuck with him.

most people, when put in a similar situation, would be all “fucking serves you right tbh” and just brush it right off. but Izuku doesn’t. or more accurately, I should say that he can’t. once again he acts on pure instinct when Kacchan’s welfare is involved, and this time it results in him blurting out his biggest secret -- a secret he was sworn to by All Might himself -- simply because he can’t stand to see Kacchan so miserable and he can’t bear the thought of him believing that Izuku really had been tricking him.

this is so extraordinary to me for a number of reasons. first and foremost, because Izuku’s altruism knows absolutely no bounds. he and Kacchan are on possibly the worst terms any two people could be on. he has absolutely no obligation to tell him this. but he does, anyway! just to make him feel better! second, there’s the fact that he doesn’t intend to do it, but it just comes blurting out. Izuku’s feelings toward Kacchan are complicated, as we know. and yet whatever the reason may be, Izuku demonstrates again and again that it’s a relationship he wants to hold onto, and he does his best to protect and preserve what little pieces of it he can. 

and lastly, this is now the second example of what will become a well-established theme in the series of Izuku going out of his way to save Katsuki. he does this again and again. he tries to help him after he falls from the log bridge. he rushes to save him from the sludge monster. he tells him about his quirk. he nearly fails their final exam because he goes back for him after All Might knocks him out. he runs into a forest full of villains to try and save him in spite of having two broken arms. he goes to Kamino with Kirishima and the others knowing full well it could get him expelled. and he fights him at night in Ground Beta even though they get into trouble for it later, because he sees how much pain Katsuki is in and he can’t turn his back on him. 

over and over again he puts himself in harm’s way for Katsuki’s sake, fully expecting no gratification to ever come from it, but doing it anyway. because he’s a hero, and because heroes don’t ask whether or not someone deserves to be saved. they just save them. this to me is the most incredible aspect of Izuku’s character. his heart is just that big. he is exceptionally, impossibly selfless and forgiving and good. and that’s just who he is. and Bakugou is lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that, whether he likes it or not, and ultimately over the course of these repeated encounters, he ends up changing for the better himself. and this moment in particular will, eventually, lead to the two of them actually reconciling for realsies when Bakugou finally figures it out and is subsequently inducted into the OFA Scooby Squad of Destiny. so yeah. this scene is so fucking important I can’t even begin. god I really went off on a tangent there. anyways.

4. “And Todoroki... isn’t you!”

so here’s another battle which highlights Izuku’s willingness to go to absurd and horrifying lengths to sacrifice himself for the sake of others. this entire fight is nothing short of ridiculous. Deku is ridiculous. let me break it down for you. Todoroki comes up to Deku before this fight and is all “hey I made a vow to never use my left side in battle because my dad only had me to use me as a tool to defeat All Might and he basically ruined my life.” in response, Deku says he’s aiming to become the strongest hero and so he’ll definitely win. he then proceeds to break his own fingers to blast Todoroki with repeated OFA attacks, all the while screaming at him that everyone is going all out and doing their best, and it’s arrogant and disrespectful of Todo to think he can beat their determination with only half of his power. 

Deku has absolutely zero regard for his own well-being in this fight -- by the end of the battle his bones are in splinters -- and his teachers observe that even if he does win, he won’t be in any kind of shape to move on to the next match. basically, he throws aside all of his own ambitions and even his own sense of self-preservation (if he even has one; it’s honestly debatable at this point you guys), all for the sole purpose of helping Todoroki realize that his power is his own and not his father’s, and to break free of the revenge-tinted tunnel vision keeping him from following his own dreams. the whole thing leaves Todoroki awestruck, and even though Deku eventually loses the fight, he gains a friend for life, and Todo fans everywhere are in his debt. 

real fucked up what he did to his fingers, though. but it just goes to show that nobody is perfect.

5. “I’m here to save you, Iida!”

I freaking love this moment you guys, and I can’t even explain why. except that who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned last-minute shounen save? Iida is seconds away from meeting his death at the hands of the world’s most annoyingly long-winded Ninjas Turtles cosplayer when Deku drops in out of nowhere and just socks the guy square in the jaw. it is satisfying as fuck. honestly that would have been awesome enough, but what makes it even better is that Horikoshi goes into some detail to explain that Deku didn’t just coincidentally happen to find Iida at the exact crucial moment, but actually used his Big Hero Brain to deduce Iida’s location through a series of shrewd observations and insightful hunches. and he turns out to be bang on the money, and that moment where Stain is reeling from the punch and Iida is looking up at him like, “Midoriya?!” and Deku sticks the landing in slow motion and says “Bingo!” in fucking English is just so fucking badass, guys. not to mention that this is also the debut of his Shoot Style on top of everything else. to sum up, this is one of the best entrances in the entire series, and just one of the coolest things Deku has ever done, IMO. you’re cool, Deku.

6. “You clocked me with all of your heart.”

yeah so you may at this point be sensing a pattern with some of these moments. yet again Deku does something stupid and risky because he sees Kacchan in trouble and all logic and reason immediately fly out the window. in this case it’s even more ridiculous, because Katsuki is not actually in any real danger at all, and by going back for him Izuku completely loses sight of what Katsuki got himself all beat up for in the first place. and yet he does it anyway! again! without thinking! like, he makes it maybe two steps away, and then he overhears Kacchan’s teary-eyed overdramatic and determined speech, and he immediately goes “oh fuck this I can’t do this” and turns back and grins maniacally at All Might before soundly punching the shit out of him. it is complete nonsense. there is no reason for it. Katsuki himself is furious when he finds out about it later. but does Deku care?? no, he does not care. and do I? no I do not because it’s the best and I love it.

7. “Let’s do our best, okay?”

this scene is feels city you guys. feels o’clock. zero dark feels. I almost put the “you’re next” scene here instead, but in the end this scene won out because (1) hug!! and (2) this is really the continuation of all of those emotions anyway, and it’s where the catharsis is at.

so let’s break this down since there’s a ton going on here. Deku is wrestling with the grief of knowing that All Might the hero, the Symbol of Peace, is gone forever. the pillar he and the rest of the world relied on to always be there isn’t there, any more. that sense of security is gone. and that’s a hard enough thing to come to grips with on its own, but put it together with the knowledge that he is the one who needs to step up now and fill those shoes, before he ever expected to, before he’s ready, and I can only begin to imagine how overwhelmed he must feel. and then on top of that!! All Might tells him he’s proud of him and relieved that he made it out of Kamino unharmed! and he tells him that he’s going to be there for him and that they’ll face the challenges up ahead together.

so for poor Deku, when you put that all together, we’ve got (a) that sense of loss, (b) fear and anxiety over the unknown difficulties to come, (c) various imposter syndrome feelings that he might not be good enough to handle it, (d) whatever misplaced guilt he may be dealing with for being one of the reasons All Might lost his power, however inevitable it might have been, and last but not least, (e) the deeply profound and humbling feeling of being loved and supported by the man he loves like a father, and knowing that no matter how scary things get, he won’t have to do this alone. so in spite of everything else, there’s that sense of relief and gratitude there too. he can do this. it will be okay. his dad is there.

all of that emotion, packed in one tearful hug. no wonder the kid is crying his eyes out. I would be too. in fact I did, and have no shame in doing so, and I would do it again. good job Horikoshi.

8. “This fight may very well have been a meaningless one... but...”

motherfucker did I not warn you there would be four different BakuDeku moments in this?? and that’s with me reining myself in too to be quite frank. that’s just how it is. it’s my list!! 

anyway, so I’m not sure whether or not an entire fight counts as a “moment”, but I’m putting it out there anyway because I’m incapable of narrowing this down any more than that. I could have an entire separate list of Top Ten Deku VS Kacchan Part 2 Moments and I’m sure I would still wind up leaving something out. I love all of it. the whole damn thing. it’s such a huge turning point for them both. they finally sort everything out. truth bombs being hurled left and right. it’s so good. agh.

but here are some of Deku’s highlights: (1) immediately shifting from trying to talk Kacchan down to fighting him outright with no hesitation once he realizes what the fight is actually about, (2) despite knowing how Kacchan feels, allowing himself to be just a bit selfish for once and get caught up in his own rival feels and trying to prove his worth as All Might’s successor, (3) complimenting Kacchan in the middle of the fight because of course he does, (4) openly admitting how much he admired Kacchan growing up and that he thought he was amazing, (5) getting so worked up that he loses control for a moment and jumps to 8% in one of the most badass moments of the whole series, (6) acknowledging to himself that even though he really shouldn’t, he kinda digs Kacchan’s rougher “I’LL KILL YOU, ASSHOLE” side anyway and emulates it without thinking when he forgets himself and that Kacchan is his image of victory, and lastly, (7) being a sneaky bastard and throwing a punch in with his shoot style knowing full well it will catch Kacchan off guard, which it fucking does.

Deku goes hog wild in this fight. he has a grand old time and even manages to achieve a new power-up, because he and Kacchan always do manage to bring out the best in each other, when they’re not bringing out the worst. you can’t watch this fight and fail to notice how insanely fired up Deku is compared to his usual fights. he is into it. he is ready and willing to throw down. he is here to kick ass and take names!! this is the impact Kacchan has on him. thirty fucking seconds into his therapy fight and Deku's maximum power output has increased by a whopping 60%. holy shit. mad lads.

it’s something not lost on All Might, who wraps things up by patiently explaining to the two of them how much they can learn from each other. and the whole thing concludes with the two of them becoming, as All Might puts it, “proper rivals.” that’s right, their rivalry is now officially approved and sanctioned by the motherfucking Symbol of Peace. well done, boys. these two are going to be absolutely terrifying when they grow up.

***SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA PAST THIS POINT***

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9. “...But you were there.”

okay so I have this indecisive kind of thing going on with whether or not I think All Might is actually going to die, and whether or not I want to see it happen. some weeks, like this particular week, I am on the side of BITCH DON’T YOU DARE because everything is goddamn sad enough as it is, Horikoshi, and I don’t need any more reasons to lie awake at night crying over fictional characters! but then there are other days when I think about how devastatingly, breathtakingly heartbreaking it would be, and for some reason I think, shit, yeah, he’s gotta do it. go ahead and hurt us good. make us feel things. leave no survivors. just fucking wreck our shit, go on ahead.

but then I read this scene again and think, there’s something so incredibly powerful about the fact that All Might started out the series believing he was going to die and being resigned to that fate and making preparations for it, only to be completely blindsided by the love he has for this boy and what that ends up doing to him. his love for Izuku gives him the strength to fight against fate. it gives him the resolve to look the grim reaper in the eye and say “to hell with this, I’m going to live.” it’s his reason to keep going. it’s his purpose. and god but that’s some powerful shit. characters saying “fuck you” to destiny? I am weak as hell for that, hell yes give me more. give me all of that.

and then Deku in this scene. pleading with All Might to keep living. “you have to live to see that moment, when I can tell the world, ‘I am here!’” promising him that no matter what happens, when the time comes, they’ll bend fate together. “without fail.” and just, holy fuck. when he says it, you really believe they can do it. because if anyone can figure out a way to conquer the inevitable, it’s this kid.

10. “Senpai... if I said that I would give you my quirk, would you...?”

last but not least, today just happens to be Mirio’s birthday as well, so it only seems fitting to end with this moment, which in the span of a single page neatly sums up why both of these kids are worthy beyond a doubt of being the next Symbol of Peace. Deku selflessly tries to offer Mirio his quirk, and Mirio instantly rejects him. doesn’t even know what’s going on, really, but just rejects the offer out of hand. “no thanks. then you would be the one subjected to this hardship.” and we can’t very well fucking have that, now can we. nope. not on Mirio’s watch. never mind that he just lost his quirk and his mentor within the span of the past twenty four hours. he wastes no time in coming to Deku’s aid in spite of that, assuring him that he did great and that everything will be just fine. so just smile already!!

but the fact that Deku was even willing to make the offer just once again goes to show how astonishingly good he is. he knows better than anyone what it’s like to be quirkless and powerless. he knows exactly what Mirio is going through. what’s more, Mirio is absolutely right that Deku did fucking amazing and totally saved the day and without him they would have all been screwed! but all Deku can see in this moment is how deserving Mirio is, and so he decides that in order to help him, he’s prepared to make what for him is the ultimate sacrifice. the power that All Might gave him. his dream of becoming the greatest hero. everything he’s worked for up to this point. he’s prepared to throw all of that away if Mirio just says the word. there truly isn’t a selfish bone in this kid’s body.

but Mirio says no. because Mirio is also selfless. in conclusion we had just better hope the two of them never wind up reaching a door together at the same time, because the ensuing battle of who holds it open for whom could singlehandedly bring this series to a dead halt. the ultimate stalemate. they are too good and we don’t deserve them.

so anyways, that’s it! happy birthday kid. and here’s one more for the road.

11. “Dear Midoriya...”

a story in three acts. character development. growth. god bless.

[stylesgalaxy]

mastermind; chapter 17

I can't stay with Julia. Not with how often she looks at me like I might explode or like I'm the bitch that's in love with her boyfriend.

Well, ex-boyfriend.

She heads to the bathroom with a deep heave while I hurry into my room. I pack a duffel bag with all my necessities and clothes for a few days. Julia steps out of the bathroom and I go in to grab some other things.

"Where are you going?" she exclaims, nervously.

"Away." I answer, marching to the door. "I can't stay here, I'm sorry. Not after the things you said and not after the things he said."

I swing the door open and leave before she can respond.

Forty minutes later, I find myself in the very cliché movie scene: outside Zayn's door in the pouring rain.

Zayn swings the door open and looks at me in alarm. I clap a hand to my mouth to conceal a sob as the tears pour out again.

"Aria? Oh my God, what happened?!" he ushers me in and locks the door behind us. I stand in the foyer, dropping my head to my hands and letting whatever's left of my tears to run. "Aria, please tell me what happened," Zayn says softly, rubbing a hand over my shoulder awkwardly.

"I-I told Julia that I love him..."

Zayns eyes widen.

"And she told him, like, five minutes later right in front of me..."

"Oh shit."

"I told him everything and n-now he hates me!"

"He doesn't hate you, Aria, it's not your—"

"He does hate me! He said to leave him alone and never talk to him again!"

"Harry said that?"

"There's something else too..." I explain tiredly. "I guess I should explain everything."

---

Rodger was out tonight, so Zayn ushered me into his living room and I was able to cry freely and explain everything. I told him about the part I played in Julia and Harry's relationship, he did not seem impressed. He was quite disappointed and I don't blame him.

Harry was right. What I did was wrong, I violated his privacy by engaging in conversations I wasn't meant to be in.

But Zayn is a really good guy and an even better friend so he patted my back and soothed me until I calmed down. He told me I'm welcome to stay as long as I was want, but he urges me to mend things with Julia and Harry.

Julia and I will get over this, I know it. No boy has ever successfully torn our friendship apart—and I know Harry isn't just a regular boy, but he's no exception. And I'm positive about this because I could see the sympathy in Julia's eyes when I told her about my feelings. Julia isn't cold-hearted, she's oblivious and inconsiderate most times, but she's not evil.

The hardest thing I was facing now was how I was going to deal with the situation with Harry.

For the next two days, I laid on Zayn's sofa. He offered his bed, but I declined, this was fine. He had a very comfy sofa, one that dipped in a lot when you sat. I moped around and wallowed in self-pity, so pretty much what I had been doing all week.

Rodger was somewhat filled in on my situation. He didn't have any problems with me staying with them because I literally did nothing all day, it was like I wasn't even living.

On the third day, Julia wouldn't stop texting me. She gave me my space, but now she was worried about me and about our friendship. I called her and we cried (a-fucking-gain) about how we love each other too much to let this be the end of our friendship. She forgives me for loving Harry, saying I wasn't committing a crime and that she knows I never tried to do anything to harm her relationship. She went on a whole speech (that I think she prepared beforehand) about how grateful she was to have a friend like me, who despite my strong feelings for her boyfriend, I remained loyal to her and even went as far as making sure her relationship was stable.

I told her I was staying with Zayn, but I didn't give her the address.

After our call, I was able to get up and at least catch up on all my homework. When Zayn left to go to work (which I still hadn't returned to since the semester started, but I really didn't want to think about it) I would use his studio. It made my creativity flow and I had the resources to make spontaneous decisions.

I hadn't been able to sleep well either. It would take me hours to fall asleep and when I did, I would dream about Harry. So I was staying up to work.

On the fourth day, when I was still visibly sad and with nothing left to do (now all caught up on my homework) Zayn was tired of seeing me so depressed so he suggested I go talk to Harry. I strongly disagreed, which only made us argue and made me lock myself in his bathroom in anger. He felt bad and coaxed me out with food.

On Monday, I finally went back to class but I left twenty minutes early because the guy in front of me had curly hair and it was making me sad.

I walked all the way back to Zayn's house, which took so long that I felt really stupid for doing it and didn't tell Zayn. Good thing was, I gave him no reason to suspect that I left early.

By Wednesday, I was two weeks ahead of all my classes. Strange how that works. Lowest point in my life, highest point of my GPA.

Zayn woke up me up bright and early on Wednesday morning, just an hour after I fell asleep.

"Mm, wha'?" I mumble into my pillow.

"You have to get ready, we have class in an hour," Zayn speaks calmly.

"No."

"Aria, come on. You've been doing so well, you went to all your classes this week!"

"I'm not going."

"Please, Aria, come on. Look, I won't make you sit next to him. We can sit far away."

"Zayn, leave me alone," I mutter forcing my eyes shut. I burrow my head deep in the cushions, as if the deeper I go, the faster I'll fall back asleep.

"Okay, I've had enough. You are getting up and getting ready. Wear a nice outfit you have, put on some of your makeup or whatever makes you feel nice, and we can go get Starbucks before class if you want."

At the mention of Starbucks, my heart broke all over again.

"Just leave me the fuck alone, Zayn!" I shout at him and he flinches. "I don't want to go to class, I don't want Starbucks, I just want to sleep! I only slept for an hour last night, please just go without me."

When I woke up a few hours later, I felt really bad. Zayn was just trying to help me, and I completely lashed out at him. Deciding I want to be productive today, I ask Rodger what Zayn's favourite meal is.

"Why?" he asks suspiciously.

"So I can put it in the biography I'm writing on him," I deadpan. "Why do you think?"

Instantly, I feel bad about being mean to Rodger too, but I get the feeling he talks about me behind my back.

"I'm sorry, Rodger, I shouldn't have snapped. I haven't been sleeping well and it's making me cranky," I apologize.

"S'alright," he says slowly after a while. "He likes biryani with chicken, but if your going to make it, make sure you buy the correct seasoning and put all of it in. White people like to make their own version of Indian dishes with just salt... in our house, we don't disrespect authentic Indian cuisine."

I roll my eyes and agree. After a quick trip to the nearest grocery store, which was a twenty-minute walk actually, I have everything I need to make the dish. I'm actually really happy Rodger insulted me and told me to season it properly, because I didn't know you could buy the seasoning packs and it made my life so much easier.

By the time Zayn arrives, the biryani is nice and warm in the pot. I start setting up the table and put a plate out for Rodger, too.

"Rodger, come down I'm serving dinner!" I yell upstairs. Zayn peaks his head into the den and his eyes widen. I glance down at the shawarma in his hands and shake my head. "Oh no, you didn't... don't tell me I slaved away all day and you already ate."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know! I didn't even eat that much, I'm still really hungry!" Zayn says. I roll my eyes playfully and walk back to the kitchen while he places the half-eaten shawarma on the counter and follows. "What did you make?"

"Biryani with chicken."

"No way! That's my favourite!" Zayn exclaims and helps me serve some on plates.

"I know, I asked Rodger. I felt really bad about yelling at you this morning... it's not like me to be so cranky, I'm so sorry. You're the only one who's there for me and I'm not trying to push you away," I say sincerely. Rodger walks past us to sit at the table, not paying any attention to what's being said.

"It's okay, Aria, I understand," Zayn smiles.

"See, this is why I don't deserve you!" I say starting to tear up again but Zayn chuckles and pulls me in for a hug.

"Stop it with the crying and dramatics," he laughs.

I nod and laugh lightly.

Rodger is quite impressed with my biryani, and so is Zayn. They're surprised I didn't hold back on the seasoning, and that's only because I didn't want to give Rodger any reason to make fun of my cooking. Had he not said anything, I would not have made this biryani so spicy. I ate half of my plate and the entire bowl of yogurt I put out, plus the whole pitcher of water. Every time I sniffed, Zayn and Rodger would snicker.

"Oh yeah, hahaha, Aria can't eat spicy food, this is so funny," I retort sarcastically and roll my eyes. They laugh at me freely before feeling bad and thanking me for the food.

After dinner is done and I tell Rodger I won't wash the dishes because I cooked the food, he gets up to clean them while Zayn and I move to the living room.

Everything was well until Zayn spoke.

"I saw him."

I take my eyes off Rachel and Phoebe's screaming faces, and look at Zayn. "I don't want to know," I say.

"He looked just as miserable as you, Aria," Zayn insists.

"I said I don't want to know."

"Why won't you just talk to him?! You're just going to throw away what you had? Just like that?" Zayn argues.

"I won't talk to him because he told me not to talk to him! He threw away the friendship, not me!"

"So go fight for it back! Don't just sit here and be miserable all day on my couch. This isn't you."

I pause for a moment to gather my thoughts before saying, "Look, if you want me to leave, I will. Don't bring him up and guilt trip me."

I stand to leave but Zayn grabs my hand.

"That's not what I meant, you know that. You're welcome to stay here as long as you want, even Rodger said so!"

"Lies. Rodger thinks I'm annoying," I mutter, scowling.

"Well, yes, but he won't just throw you out. He's actually a big softie. He wants to know you're okay before you leave."

"Well, then: I'm okay. I'll leave." I move to leave again but Zayn pulls me back.

"Leaving to talk to Harry? Sure. Leaving to roam the streets and mope around? No." I glare at him. "Just please consider talking to him. Please? He might have changed his mind."

I decide to humour him and nod. Zayn's smile is so wide that it makes me feel bad, so I end up actually considering it.

---

It's Zayn's fault that I'm freezing my tits off outside Harry's house the next day. He has class soon so he should be leaving his house in a few minutes. I wait outside on his driveway because I'm too embarrassed and ashamed to knock on the door and risk Niall or Louis opening it. I want to talk to Harry first and privately.

I sigh as he takes another ten minutes to leave. I'm sitting on rocks on the side of their driveway when the door opens. I'm on the other side of his Range Rover, so he doesn't see me as walks out and locks the door.

"Harry," I say, standing up. His head whips up to make eye contact with me and my breath is taken away. He looks horrible, worst I've ever seen him. Dark circles around his eyes, his face pale, his curls unkempt. He blinks then walks towards his car with his head down. The closer he gets to me, the more panicked I feel, "I—"

Harry pays no further attention to me. He gets into his car, slams the door and drives off without a word, leaving me alone.

---

"Hey," Zayn greets me, when I get back to his. "So did you see him? How'd it go?"

"Horrible," I deadpan, throwing my purse on my couch and flopping down on it.

"What?"

"I don't know what to do Zayn. He saw me and just got into his car and drove off. He doesn't even drive his car to class!"

"Oh shit, Aria... Okay, how about if—"

"No. I'm sorry, but I'm not taking any advice from you again," I say tiredly.

Louis comes over later. He looks at me carefully as I stare him down from my position on the couch.

"Hey, Aria," he says softly.

"Do you hate me, too? Does Niall?" I can't help but ask. Louis and Niall were Harry's friends first, obviously they would take his side. But they were also my only other friends.

"What? No, of course not!" he says. "You're our friend as much as Harry is."

"No, you guys knew him first. You're closer with him," I argue softly, picking at my split ends.

"Yeah but we still love you," he says casually. A small smile grows on my face and I look at him.

"Did he tell you everything?"

Louis nods.

"I was only trying to make everyone happy."

"Yeah, we know. Have you been here ever since?"

"Yeah."

"Did you go to your classes?"

"Some," I sigh.

"Aren't you worried about falling behind? It's midterms."

"I'm two weeks ahead in all of my classes."

"Oh," his eyes widen.

"Yeah," I chuckle.

"So that's why you look like shit."

"Shut up, I still look better than you," I huff and throw a pillow at his face. Louis laughs, catching it and sits on my couch. I try to kick him away but he sits on my legs and I'm forced to be in their company as him and Zayn play video games.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Louis asks a few hours later, just when I thought I can live my life never talking about it again.

"Yes. And I'm never doing it again."

"Why? What happened?"

"He got in his car and drove off. Didn't even get to say anything." Louis looks at me in pity and I roll my eyes. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"You have to try again. Maybe give him some more time."

"No."

"That's all he needs! Just some time. Then try speaking to him again."

---

Obviously, I didn't listen to Louis. It was already humiliating being ignored by Harry the first time, I'm not doing it again.

It's been a whole week since I've lived away from home and to be honest the only reason I finally went back was because I didn't want to wash my clothes at Zayn and Rodger's. I gathered all my shit and tied my messy hair in a bun. Men's shampoo was not for me, and plus I forgot to bring my other hair products.

I wrote a note for Zayn telling him there's leftovers in the fridge and thanking him for being such a kind friend and letting me stay with him, before calling an Uber.

Seeing my own building again was relief like no other. I liked being back in the familiarity of my home. I greet the concierge shyly and wave to our security guard before getting in the elevator.

Julia shouldn't be home right now, so I'm confident no one's inside when I unlock the door.

Boy was I wrong.

"Shit!" Julia screams in panic, naked on top of a guy on the sofa.

"Fuck, I'm sorry!" I yell and shut the door really quickly. There's lots of scrambling as they quickly put their clothes on and whisper-yell. I didn't get to see the guy because his legs were facing me and his face was blocked by Julia, making me wonder who it was.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Do I go back to Zayn's? No, this is my house. And Julia was not supposed to be having sex on the sofa!

I wait for a couple minutes until they get their shit together. I really hope who ever this guy is leaves so that 1. I can be left alone with Julia and 2. so I can see who it was. I'm quite curious—

The door swings open and my heart stops as a scowling Harry steps out, brushing past me without saying anything or even looking at me.

---

The hurt I felt from Harry's cold stare washed off any excitement I had about returning home. This whole thing stung. A lot.

"Aria, I'm so sorry you had to see that... um I know with your feelings for him—" Julia instantly apologizes as I walk in, dumbfounded.

"Don't," I gulp. There's a lump in my throat that won't go away. I struggle to take in my surroundings and remember what I wanted to do. I set my bag down on the small table, unsurely. "So, um, you guys got back together?" I ask in a defeated tone.

As far as I knew, Harry was hurt by both Julia and I. And the part that stung so much was he was willing to come here to be with Julia and have sex with her, but he won't even spare me a glance? Allow me to speak?

"Oh, God no. No no no," she says quickly.

"No?" I ask confused. "Then why were you two..."

"It's complicated... I mean we were both pretty fucked up about the break up and um, he came here one day drunk off his ass... we talked and one thing led to another and next thing I know our clothes are off and we were having sex." I cringe inwardly. "The next morning, he was very firm in saying that it meant nothing," she mutters.

"Were you hurt?"

"Not as much as I thought I would be..." she sighs deeply before saying, "I can't look at him the same way after finding out how much you loved him. The feelings are dissolving and I think it's the same for him."

I nod. I desperately want to ask what they talked about and what he said about me (did he even say anything about me?) but I know it's not my place to.

"I'm sorry you saw that... I wasn't expecting you to come in. It only happened a few times and I really don't want you to think I don't care about your feelings or anything—"

"Then why did you sleep with him?" I deadpan, looking straight in her eyes. Julia falters and I feel guilt course through. "I'm sorry... that's not fair. Um, I'm not mad at you or anything. You're both adults, you can make your own decisions. I guess I'm just a little hurt."

"That's what I didn't want! I'm sorry Aria, please don't feel bad—I wish I never did it now!" Julia cries. "I told myself this was going to be the last time, I swear—"

"It's alright Julia. It's not just you," I start mumbling. "He won't even look at me. I went to see him the other day but he didn't say anything to me. Just got in his car and drove away. And today he just brushed past me like I was no one. It just... hurts you know?" Julia nods in understand. "Knowing that the two people I always put before myself and my own feelings, would treat my like this." Julia freezes and opens her mouth to respond. "Don't, please. It's not that deep, okay. What happened, happened. I'll get over it. I don't want to fight anymore."

She nods.

"I'm sorry," Julia whispers again as I walk into my room. I nod, accepting her apology.

***

Sorry for the late update! Hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you thought!!!

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[butterflyheart-me]

My Top BL online stories (part 1)

Warning: There will be very naughty scenes 

1.  I never knew the World was this Bright

Theme: Online Gaming, School/College Life

Synopsis:

An Lian never thought he would make friends online when he started playing Red Dragon Quest for the first time. But as it turned out, he finds more than a friend... He finds a husband!

Little does An Lian know, this 'husband' in game is much closer to him in real life than he first suspects...

At the same time, in the real world, An Lian encounters a man named Jian Chen. An Lian remains oblivious to Jian Chen's advances until it is too late, and he is already too deep in the lion's den.

My thoughts:

Very Fluffy, some angst, it really makes the world bright. The MC is such a cinnamon roll while the ML is so protective of MC. Very cute couple

Side couple is super cute too. It was a nice surprise. Supportive friends FTW

2. A Lotus Born of Mud

Theme: Transmigration, Cultivation, Disciple x Master

Trigger Warning: contains sensitive themes such as child abuse, rape and self-harm

Synopsis:

"Lu ShiZun... I like you."

"I like you too XiaoYin."

"... My kind of like is where we'd tumble in bed all day all night kind of like ShiZun..."

*ferociously runs in the opposite direction

...........................................

 Lu BiMing was born in the modern ages. However due to orphaned and adopted by cruel people at a young age, his life was as miserable as any life could get. When he finally escapes looking to start a new life he slips up and drowns.

 Whilst in JiangHu lives a man has money and reputation.  He is murdered... by drowning...

 Lu BiMing's life changes after he wakes up in another body. Now he really has literally found a new life where no one knows of his past, his secrets or his fears. However, with a new body comes responsibility too and he soon discovers that twisted secrets exist in this world also.

 He goes out of character,

 He bends the rules,

 But most of all, he's caught the eye of a troubling disciple...

My thoughts:

The MC is very naive and adorable but he’s not weak. He can protect himself. He’s just very dense and unable to realize how attractive he is. He has a very sad life but he still have the strength to fight and make himself and other people he care about happy. 

ML is like a little lost puppy without his master. He can be sexy yet cute at the same time. He is very possesive to the point that he’s showing yandere-ish actions. He’s still sane tho. 

The story itself is very detailed. The characters aren’t one dimensional. Full of gray area. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry and in some cases you might get turned on

3.  I Love You from Alpha to Omega

Theme: Fantasy, Werewolves/Werecat

Trigger: contains scenes of abuse, PTSD

Ezra believed he would never find his mate, until he met Blair. While Ezra was away, training to become an Alpha strong enough to lead his pack, his mother and father adopted a new son into their home. When Ezra returnd home, he worried about competition from his new brother, Blair, for both his title and his parent's love and affection. It comes as a complete surprise to him that Blair is interested in neither. The small, skittish shifter is just a little neko, and above all, Ezra's mate.

    Ezra becomes concerned when his parents, the current Alpha and Luna of his pack, explain to him what little they know about Blair's devastating past. At first Ezra believes his only obstacle is to get his mate to accept him, but as Blair's previous life comes to light, blindsiding the couple, Ezra realizes he may have bit off more than he could chew. Ezra hopes his unconditional love for Blair will guide him in his quest to avenge his mate's honor. Follow Ezra and Blair as together they learn to trust in each other and develop a relationship unlike any other.

"I love you."

"How Much?" He breathlessly questioned.

"From A to Z, from Alpha to Omega." I confessed sincerely.

My Thoughts:

Very sensitive themes but you can really see that love exists between the main characters. It’s a little slow burn romance due to Blair’s past but you can really see how Ezra tries to become patient and understanding for his mate. I like that this story involves other kinds of love such as family/ parental love. Ezra’s parents are just the best. So pure.

2MOONS (Phayo/MingKit/ForthBeam) :

1. Last Descendant 

Theme: Fantasy, Magic, Kinda Avatar: Last Airbender inspired

Summary/ Description:

My name is Wayo Daichapanya. I am a non-magi. I can't seem to awaken my elemental powers. I envy my brother Ming who has awakened his earth magic since he was 5. He is going to go to a college in neutral lands so he can join the Wizards Rumble, a tournament of magic users. He is a powerful earth magic user, I believe he will win. I decided to come along with him to that college because I am quite attached to my brother. I always feel safe when I am with him, I can't imagine going to a different college.

I feel like someone has been stalking me in the college, but I can't seem to find who it is. Who is stalking me?

My thoughts:

Wayo is so such a cinnamon roll. He’s so lovable and innocent. Phana is such a bad ass here and also a possessive perv. 

TONS of MINGYO BROTHERLY cuteness!!!!!!!!

Mingkit is such a cute couple. Literally Fiery Kit and the adorable puppy Ming its just so funny

ForthBeam= trust issues storyline, mostly Beam’s. A very romantic Forth here. 

2. Two Planets

Summary/ Description:

He takes off his mask and what I see next is beyond awesome. Perfect face! He is so handsome. There is no way he is from Earth. Well, he is from Venus. His name is Phana, from the royal family Kongthanin.

My name is Wayo, from the royal family Panitchayasawad. Both of us got chosen as our respective planet's representative to enroll in the Intergalactic School. There will be other students from other planets too!

It has been my dream to know about other planets! But wait. Why is P'Pha holding my hands like this? This is in the school! This is embarrassing! *facepalms*

This story tells about Phana and Wayo, along with their friends from other planets in the Intergalactic School. Phana is from Venus, while Wayo is from Earth. What is about to bloom between the two planets?

My thoughts:

PREPARE TO DIE FROM EXTREME FLUFF AND CUTENESS. Sweet and loving yet possessive and perverted Phana X Innocent and lovable Prince Wayo

I just kept smiling while reading every chapter. THEY ARE BOTH CINNAMON ROLLS HERE! PLUS Phana is NOT A PLAYBOY here! He’s a virgin here.

There will be cameos

3.  Howling at the Moons

Theme: Fantasy,Supernatural, Werewolves, Omegaverse

Summary/ Description:

Yo is a young werewolf who wants nothing more than to experience life. To live, laugh, and love beyond the restrictions he has always known. Will college be his chance to do that?

 In a world where werewolves exist but are still 'in the closet' so to speak, how will our 6 boys handle their lives and loves while hiding one small secret from the world?

My Thoughts:

Very sweet loving couples. Full of Suprises. Cute funny scenes between the side couples (MingKit/ ForthBeam). MINGYO FRIENDSHIP FTW!!!!!! Very smexy scenes. 

4.  Taking a Bite Out of the Moons

Theme: Fantasy, Supernatural, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae

Trigger: School Bullying

Summay/Description:

Wayo is a simple human boy trapped in a lonely little world, until he makes friends with Ming and Forth, werewolves from the local pack. What adventures will they experience on their journey from secondary school students to college kids? And what awaits them at college?

 In a world where werewolves, vampires, and Fae exist and are 'out of the closet' so to speak, can our six boys find happiness and love?

My Thoughts:

Tons of twists and turns. Some light smexy threesome scenes but not all the way. There were actually scenes that made me cry. There will be character developments especially Wayo, Kit and of course Beam. 

CRACK/ GHOSTSHIPS

1. TEARS OF THE MOON (Forthyo)

The storyline is similar to 2moons but with Forth as lead

Summary/Description:

Ming being Ming  told me surely I had misunderstood and I so wanted it to be true, so I gladly accepted this point of view  although I knew without a shadow of doubt that I  had not misheard neither did I misunderstand.  That  night I chose to lie to myself  since I was not  prepared  to let go of P' Pha.

My Thoughts:

Seriously ship Forthyo here. Healthy relationship!!!

2.  Circus Freak (Mingyo)

Theme: Vampire, School Life

My Thoughts:

Sweet, lovely. Classic Besties turned Lovers with a twist

3. Guardian Angel (Mingyo)

Theme: School life

Summary/Description:

Ming blinks. This is this frist day in his new school and he has to witness a kid being hanged upside down in his one feet up the tree.

A thick glasses are dropped on the grass.

"Hey, do you know where the principal office is?" Ming asked him.

"Uhm. I want to show you but my sight is no use without my glasses." He said. His braces is colored blue.

Ming get the glasses from the grass and put it in the boy's eyes. Still with him hanging upside down.

He blinks several times to get used of the sudden clear sight. "Wow. You are handsome."

Ming blinks several times. "Wha...t...."

"There...." the boy points at one of the dirrection.

Ming blinks. "Why don't you just show me?" He said.

"I would like to, but if you haven't notice yet, I am hanged upside down here." He said. "Beside, you better not seen with me. You'll get trouble."

"Like what?"

"This."

Ming blinks. "Yeah... maybe my trouble would be much bigger than that. But hell with that." He puts down his back pack and then climbs up the tree.

Not long after, the boy with glasses and braces hit the ground with a loud thump sound.

Ming laughs. "You are so silly."

My Thoughts:

Bad boy/ Naughty Ming x Openly gay and sassy Wayo. Daddy kinks

This is all for now. Sorry all of them are on wattpad. the ones from other sites such as novelupdates are still ongoing so i couldn’t complete them yet

i’ll post more once i finished some more and depends if you guys want me to post more of these. 

I still haven’t finished tons of webnovels and fanfic coz they are either still updating or i got really distracted. ANY WAY PLEASE SUPPORT THE AUTHORS THEY DESERVE LOVE! 

let’s talk and discuss more love!!!

[doodlelolly0910]

Hate Me

A/N: So I totally know I'm behind on posting other things and that you guys are waiting on updates but the thing is I haven't been able to write literally anything for going on three weeks now. This hit me from out of nowhere and demanded to be written so here it is. Fair warning, read the tags. This is not a happy fic. Based on Hate Me by Blue October. Thank you so so much to @artistic-writer ​ for kicking me in the ass and encouraging me to post and also looking this over for me as well ❤❤

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I have to block out thoughts of you so I don't lose my head

They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed

Flickering recollections of blonde hair, musical laughter, and verdant, knowing eyes were strangled off with the pull of the tight elastic around Killian's bicep. Just one more time, he thought to himself. If Emma was here, her uncanny ability to detect a lie would have her alarms blaring at that notion.

A bent spoon sat nearby on the counter curled around a tealight candle, the viscous liquid in its shallow reservoir nearly bubbling. He blew out the flame and watched as smoke curled away from the wick and slowly dissipated.

He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror above the sink he stood in front of, eyeliner from his last show still in place but smudged around his blue eyes, making them look even more hollow than usual. His cheekbones stood out sharper than they used to, his beard a little more unkempt, dark hair flopping into his eyes. He could hardly recognize himself. He looked away quickly, unable to bear the sight anymore, and turned back to the task at hand.

Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I'm alone

Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home

Everyone had left hours ago, his bandmates off to the safety of slumber in their own hotel rooms. Like most nights for Killian Jones, sleep wouldn't come. That's how he found himself here. Emma was a thousand miles away and there was nothing to drown out the whisperings in his head of self loathing and inadequacy.

He picked up the sterile needle from the counter and uncapped it, flicking the little orange piece of plastic somewhere far into the recesses of nowhere he cared about. Who cared what housekeeping would think when they cleaned this up in the morning? This fix was all that mattered. He did the rest of it to himself, why not this, too?

There's a burning in my pride,

A nervous bleeding in my brain

An ounce of peace is all I want for you

Will you never call again?

He just wanted to hear her voice again. She'd begged him not to go, told him this tour would be the death of them. He'd thrown it back in her face, telling her this was his dream. He told her to come with him and God did he wish she would have. Or that he'd never left. Either of those options would have been better than what he was doing now.

He shook his head roughly, as if he could physically remove the thoughts rattling around in his brain. His resolve to shut everything out steeled within him as he dipped the sharp tip into the poison in the spoon and pulled back the plunger as he had a thousand times before.

And will you never say that you love me

Just to put it in my face?

And will you never try to reach me?

It is I that wanted space

The amount in the clear plastic column was slowly increasing, despite his shaky hands. He could feel his own heart rate begin to kick up in anticipation, a steady thumping in his chest that was a perfect mirror of the pounding thoughts in his head. When he was satisfied, he turned the needle upside down, watching as air bubbles floated through it like a lava lamp.

Images of the last time he was here rose up like bile in his throat. Emma screaming at him and hitting him in the chest, telling him that she loved him when he insisted no one could. She took more than she ever should have from him. And she loved him through it all. It was his own fault it hadn't been enough.

He squeezed the plunger on the needle, a dribble of fluid spurting from the top of it and he flicked the side of the plastic tube, making sure every trace of air was gone, along with every trace of the woman that once loved him.

Hate me today

Hate me tomorrow

Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways

Yeah, ways hard to swallow

Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

He hoped that she was happy somewhere without him. He wanted her to hate him, but not to forget him and all the pain he caused her. It would be easier for her to hate him and stay away where he couldn't damage her any further that way. She would be better off without him, that was certain. Killian Jones never did anything halfway, and that included being a fuck up.

He never deserved her, and this just proved it. Hooking the needle into the crook of his ring finger, he pulled one end of the elastic tubing up to his mouth and took the other end in his free hand, pulling the ends taut and cutting off his circulation further. His fingers searched out a vein, tapping it lightly when he located one. He didn't even feel the sting of the needle as it pushed past his skin.

I'm sober now for three whole months,

It's one accomplishment that you helped me with

The one thing that always tore us apart

Is the one thing I won't touch again

The three months leading up to where he was now had been the best and worst of his life. He'd been using for years after his brother died, something that had eroded the relationship he built with Emma. He was selfish and impetuous in the depths of his addiction, Emma the only bright spot in his darkness. When he came home one Christmas Eve to find Emma and all her belongings gone, nothing left behind but an apologetic note saying she couldn't watch him kill himself anymore, he knew he had to change.

He’d gone to rehab for thirty days. If Killian believed in hell, he imagined it would be like that. He'd never been so sick in his life. Shaking, sweating, clammy skin, throwing up constantly, every square inch of his body aching so deeply he was sure he'd never recover, but none of that touched the pain of his broken heart. He resolved he would never touch drugs again if he could have Emma back.

When he came home, it was good. He apologized to Emma, but she was hesitant to believe him. He didn't blame her. He worked hard to earn her trust back and eventually, about two weeks after he left rehab, she came home.

In the month or so that followed, he and Emma had been stronger than ever. He felt alive again for the first time in years. Slowly, he let the aches and pains in his soul be soothed by her love instead of quick fixes. Every night he fell asleep with her in his arms, breathing in her scent, he thanked his lucky stars that she'd given him another chance.

It was all gone now as he stumbled back away from the sink. The latex around his arm loosened slightly and allowed the drug to begin its course through his bloodstream as he slumped against the wall and sank to the floor.

In a sick way I want to thank you

For holding my head up late at night

While I was busy waging wars on myself,

You were trying to stop the fight

The effect was instantaneous. He could practically feel his eyes dilating and his muscles going slack. The chemistry of his body began to change and euphoria took the place of aching sadness. The self doubt quieted.

Before he'd gone down the path to redemption, he'd chased this feeling incessantly. Blissful exhilaration filled the empty spaces and sealed the cracks of his broken heart. Killian closed his eyes and let the rolling ecstasy the high brought wash over him in waves. He never wanted to come down.

He knew he would come down eventually, though. That was the downside of this whole arrangement. He couldn't count how many times Emma had held his face above a toilet, trying to wake him up and keeping him from drowning in his own sick. Those moments he wasn't the proudest of, but it never stopped him from seeking more, craving that next high, doing whatever it took to get it.

No matter what the cost.

She was his savior in so many ways. On bad days when it felt like he would suffocate under the weight of his own depression, she was there to help him through it. He lied and stole from her to get a hookup, and she stood by him. She'd pulled him out of himself when he couldn't see anything else but the drugs and crippling sadness. He owed her his life, however worthless and miserable it may have been.

You never doubted my warped opinions

On things like suicidal hate

You made me compliment myself

When it was way too hard to take

There was never a question that Killian Jones hated himself. He was full of cockiness and bravado outwardly, an insatiable flirt, charming, friendly, the total package. Inside, he was a different man. One that wanted to hurt on the outside as much as he did on the inside.

It worked for a time. Before he was getting high, he got into fist fights at the pubs and was increasingly reckless with his body. Between bouts of the adrenaline rushes his injurious endeavors would lead him too, the true sadness settled into his soul. A friend of a friend offered him his first hit at a party celebrating the band's first record deal and Killian was instantly hooked. The heroin filled that void, if only for a short time.

Emma understood. She'd never experimented with self harm or drugs the way that he had, or at all, really, but she knew what it was like to have such a hollow sense of devastation in her soul that was near unshakeable some days. They'd lay awake all night some nights, her blonde hair splayed over his bare chest, the tendrils weaving with the dark curls there as they mused over mortality and the fragility of the human form.

But she would always end her musings with a soft smile, telling him that she really did love herself now. She knew she was strong and independent and all the things she had sought to be when she was young. And she would make him say it too.

“Aye, love,” he would tell her. “I'm a good person. I just hurt.”

Now, he chuckled ruefully from his place on the floor at the memory.

“Look at me now,” he said bitterly to the empty room. “The epitome of greatness.”

So I'll drive so fucking far away

That I never cross your mind

And do whatever it takes in your heart

To leave me behind

The best and worst thing about him leaving on this tour was the distance he was able to put between himself and Emma. She warned him if he left, she wouldn't be there when he returned. It was too soon in his recovery for him to be doing this. He knew it was. He thought he could be strong enough to hold it together, though, if he knew Emma was waiting for him when he came back home.

His obstinacy and foolhardiness ultimately led him to where he was now. He thought she'd give in, either come with him or wait for him. He was convinced this tour was the right thing for him and his band. All the way right up until Emma was walking out the door again.

He sighed, the plastic needle rolling out of his rapidly numbing fingertips and away from him on the floor. His eyes struggled for focus and his breaths became deeper, more labored, as he fought for consciousness.

This was something he hadn't experienced before.

Hate me today

Hate me tomorrow

Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways

Yeah, ways hard to swallow

Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

“...He was here an hour ago, I swear. Maybe he's just taking a shower,” a voice Killian vaguely recognized permeated the thick haze he'd settled into from beyond the closed bathroom door. Robin, his best friend and drummer. His heartbeat began to feel sluggish in his chest as he let his head loll towards the source of the sound.

His heart nearly stopped altogether when he heard a response to his friend’s words from another voice he hadn't ever expected to hear again.

“It's okay, Robin. I can check,” Emma said and Killian began to panic. Emma was here. His Emma, light of his life, and he was drowning in the throes of darkness. He had to get up, had to cover this, she couldn't see him this way. She just couldn't. His arm twitched uselessly at his side, his body refusing to cooperate with his attempts to right himself and save her from seeing him like this again.

It had never been like this before. Something was very wrong.

His vision began to darken at the edges as the bathroom door clicked open and a horrified shriek filled the air.

“Killian, oh my God, no, no, NO!”

And with a sad heart, I say bye to you and wave

Kicking shadows on the street

For every mistake that I had made

“Killian, open your eyes. Killian, please,” Emma begged. He felt her hands come up to frame his face, her fingers tapping firmly against one of his cheeks. From the last vestiges of his awareness, he somehow summoned the strength to comply. Tears were flowing freely down her face and she gave a wobbly smile as his eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, hey, you're okay,” she said, a false brightness to her words, sobs catching on every syllable. “Just stay with me, okay? Don't close your eyes.” It was all he could do to keep his dimming blue eyes fixed on her watery green. The pain and fear that had taken up residence there was almost more than he could bear. He couldn't believe she was actually here with him.

“I need an ambulance at the Atlantic Cove Hotel. My friend, he's… he's overdosed…” Robin said frantically into the phone pressed to his ear. Killian could hear him speak, but it was of little consequence. All that existed for him in that moment was Emma. “Uh, heroin, I believe. His girlfriend is trying to keep him awake… Yes, room 154, please hurry...”

And like a baby boy,

I never was a man

Until I saw your green* eyes cry,

And I held your face in my hand

And then I fell down yelling,

"make it go away!"

“God dammit, Killian, why? What did you do?!” Emma screeched, batting the needle away from where they sat and pulling the rubber tubing off of his arm. She was unable to keep the devastation and hopelessness from her tone as she checked him over, her chest heaving with panicked sobs.

He couldn't believe she was here with him. He couldn't believe he was doing this with her again. And this time, he was losing in the worst possible way. He wasn't sure even she could save him now.

“You can't fucking leave me, you hear me? You are not allowed to do this,” she told him. He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her demands. Instead, a tear tracked down his cheek and buried itself in the overgrown stubble lining his jaw. She seized his hand and pressed it to her own tear stained cheek. “Please don't leave me Killian. You can't. Not now. I can't do this on my own.”

A lump rose in his throat, strangling the shallow breaths he was drawing further as he flexed his fingers against her face, just wanting to feel her.

“God, make this stop,” he slurred. “Make it go away…”

Just make her smile come back

And shine just like it used to be

And then she whispered,

"How can you do this to me?"

“Ambulance is on its way,” Robin told Emma. His eyes flickered over to Killian's face, wide and full of fear at what was happening to his friend. He still had the phone pressed to his ear, listening to instructions the operator was relaying to him.

Killian was losing the battle, of that he was certain. Each blink of his eyes lasted longer than the last. The words in the room became garbled and far away. Suddenly, he couldn't remember the last time he opened his eyes.

“Killian!” Emma was screaming now. “Killian wake up! Don't you fucking dare! Don't you dare! Please!”

“Mate!” Robin’s voice was much closer now, and Killian could feel his body pliantly shifting under the force of a large hand shaking his shoulder. “Bloody hell, he's not breathing!”

“How could you do this to me?” Emma whispered against his ear.

Hate me today

Hate me tomorrow

Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways

Yeah, ways hard to swallow

Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

Killian no longer felt anything except for the awareness of movement as consciousness faded. All sensation was gone from his limbs as he was pulled away from the wall and splayed out on the tiled floor. A weight shifted on top of him and pressure built on his chest, a force driving into it over and over and over. Voices blended together and lips sealed over his, foreign air filling his lungs.

Banging sounded out and someone was prying open his eyes, his vision filling with a bright light and faces he didn't recognize. Emma stood nearby in Robin's arms, his embrace seemingly the only thing that was keeping her upright. Her hands were tented over her mouth and her shoulders shook with the force of her muffled cries as the paramedics continued to work on him, resuming the repetitive pressure on his chest.

He wanted to apologize, he wanted to tell Emma to leave, he wanted to never have gone down this road again. He wanted so many things. Sparks in his brain began misfiring and all he could see was Emma. Until he could see nothing at all.

God, he hoped she hated him now. Maybe then she could move on.

For you

For you

For you

[brightlotusmoon]

Snippet from the TMNT 2016 Depressed Mikey fanfic “Pale Sunlight, Clouded

The very first little piece I wrote out of the daydream that would slowly grow into the most personal fanfiction story taking over my life. It’s basically been told on Tumblr in pieces. Thanks to @silexwitch for suggesting the title and @ulisabarbic-blog for literally being a therapist ear to bounce ideas off of. Note: My own forms of self-harm never involved blood. But Mikey’s will, whether he knows it or not. Also Note: My Original Character, a disabled autistic psychic online college student majoring in Neuropsychology, will very eventually become a love interest, and will reflect a lot of me, even more than my first OC from my Cold Fire Rising series, Gaia, a mutated human cat whom I made up because Psychic Mikey really needed a friend.

****

It took a long time, but finally there were footsteps and a soft knock on his door, and Mikey grabbed a pillow and crushed it to his face so he wouldn't scream when he cried again.

"Mikey, I'm coming in," and it was Leo, and he was not really surprised.

Michelangelo kept the pillow against his face and jerked when gentle hands tried to pull it away.

"You need to look at me, Mikey," Leo said. "Please."

He sucked in a breath. Leo's voice was hoarse and too quiet, too raw. It wasn't asking for obedience at all. Leo was in pain.

Michelangelo whimpered. He had caused all of this.

He let his brother take the pillow and then fresh tears welled up when Leo wiped his eyes with his thumbs. "I'm sorry," he gasped, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Leo sounded like he was smiling. Mikey finally opened his eyes, and yes, Leo had a tiny smile there. It made Mikey even more miserable.

"For screwing up!" His molars ground together. "For goofing off to make that woman laugh and letting the crooks get hits in, and for you guys getting hurt, and..."

"Hey, no, stop." Leo's arms were around him, pulling Mikey's chin to his shoulder. "Raph is all right. I'm all right. Cuts and bruises. And you saved that woman's life. You saved her from a panic attack. You got her name and number. And that's one more human who accepts us. That's a good thing, Little Brother."

Nuzzling his shoulder, Michelangelo sniffled. "So you're not mad? Raph's not mad?"

Pulling back just enough to bump foreheads, Leonardo grinned. "Right now, Raph is lounging on the couch enjoying painkillers and watching a boxing match. He's the one who asked me to check on you. Nobody's mad. Donnie is worried."

Mikey blinked. "About me? Why?"

Leo tilted his head. "Because you've been depressed."

Mikey jerked back, eyes wide. "What? Pfft, no. Dude, I don't get depressed."

The look Leo gave him was heartbreaking. "You have no idea, do you."

Mike scowled at him. "I'm not sick, Leo. I'm fine."

Leo didn't even blink. "No, Little Brother. You're not fine. You can't even see how you're falling apart."

And now Mikey was feeling angry, and the new tears felt like fire in his eyes. "Shut up, Leo, you don't know what you're talking about."

He wanted... he wanted to hit something. He didn't want to be here anymore. The hollow numbness was being filled with a strange prickling heat.

"At least let Don check you over," Leo was saying.

"I'm not sick!" And he was yelling and to his ears he sounded cracked. "I'm not depressed! Shut up! Leave me alone!" And those images came again, the knives against his skin, the rush of wind and miles below to the ground. He scuttled back onto his bed, dropping his head into his hands. "Leave me alone, I'm tired."

He heard his brother get up and whisper his name and it sounded like a sob. He listened to Leo leave. He drew his knees up to his chest and rocked back and forth. He felt himself start to shake.

"I'm fine," he whispered to the silence. "Everything is fine."

It took an eternity to fall asleep, and in his dreams he was drowning.

The next day, he was still drowning...

Michelangelo squirmed out from under his behemoth brother and shook his head like a cat with itchy ears. "Still not funny, Raph."

He heard Raphael grumble in his Brooklyn Batman voice. "Welp, I tried. Yer turn, Donnie."

Mikey blinked. What turns?

He lifted to his knees, frowning, feeling that familiar soothing touch of the family scientist's fingers on his face.

"Come on, Mike, you didn't even laugh," and Donatello sounded so disappointed that a burning lump formed in Mikey's throat to join the block of ice in his gut.

He swallowed painfully and made himself stare directly into those golden green eyes magnified by tortoiseshell glasses. "S-sorry, Donnie. Guess I... I just have a... a h-headache." He had a violent headache. It threatened to hammer him into oblivion.

"Bullshit," Raph coughed.

"Raph," came Leonardo's growl.

Donnie's doctor stare became more intense. "Well, depression often causes headaches. It's an illness, after all. In the brain."

Mikey screamed in his head. He'd been doing that too much. He wanted to yell, again, that he Was Not Depressed, For Pizza's Sake, Leave It Alone, but Leo had figured him out and now nobody would leave him alone and he just wanted to scr-

"Damn, never heard the kid growl like that before." And Raph sounded far far away.

"Mikey, you're shaking," Don murmured.

He was shaking. His head hurt even more. His skin was tingling. His whole body was suddenly light and floating. His brothers' voices were clouds.

"Something's wrong," Leo said tightly. "I think he's gonna pass out."

Donatello had flipped down his goggles. "More than that," and his voice was high with alarm, "I think he's having a seizure!"

Michelangelo almost burst out giggling. Oh was that what it was? Was that why he felt like bursting out of his skin violently?

He felt his eyes roll back in his head, felt his whole body go sideways, and then he felt absolutely nothing.

It was bliss.

He pried open his eyes, seeing the blurry living room ceiling, feeling scooped out and utterly fatigued. His muscles ached and trembled like he'd spent a whole day in the ha'shi in rotation, with two hundred backflips. Michelangelo heard himself moan and decided it was pathetic.

A cool damp cloth was wiped over his face. "Easy, Mikey," came Donnie's voice, soft and frightened. "Don't move too much." Donnie's face came into view right above him, and he looked desperately worried.

Michelangelo scrunched up his face. "Cn't move anyw'y. Wwhy hurting?" His raw voice startled him.

He felt Don slip a hand under his head and he blinked, barely registering the sports drink held to his lips.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched his older brothers approach carefully. Then he realized he was lying on the couch with his head in Don's lap. Donnie was trembling a little. Why was Donnie trembling?

The voices of Splinter, April, and Casey came through clearly. And then Casey was crouched right in front of his face, staring staring at him.

"Yeah," Casey said. "He definitely had a seizure. He's made himself physically sick... I've seen it before with the mentally ill kids we pick up. How long did you say he's been depressed?"

Mikey frowned and wanted to snap that he wasn't depressed but Raph was there, making him drink that orange electrolyte drink.

"I... at least two weeks," Leonardo mumbled. "I finally talked to him last night and he denied everything. But he's been quiet and tired, he's either sleeping too much or barely sleeping at all, he feels feverish after training. And. And he hasn't been eating much."

Casey bit his lip and ran his hands up and down Mikey's arm. Mike felt too weak to question it. Nobody joked about the food thing and he found he didn't care. Casey's warmth was soothing.

"His skin is dry but there's also dehydration. Do you guys regularly moisturize?"

"Got a few bottles of olive oil an' a big jar o' coconut oil," Raphael spoke up, "and Mike's the one who reminds us."

The new detective shook his head. "There's no evidence of oils on his skin or shell. Neglecting personal care is a major symptom. Could lead to cracked skin."

Mikey gritted his teeth. He was *not* depressed, it was *not* making him sick, he was *fine* - and he found himself too weak to protest, damn it.

He had finished half the drink before the raging headache slammed into him and he began to cry.

"Aww, Mike, no, hey," and Raph lifted him into his arms as Don hugged him from behind. Leonardo grabbed Mikey's hands and pressed their foreheads together.

Michelangelo just sobbed hims elf into deeper exhaustion.

Maybe he wasn't fine after all.

****

[theratprince]

idk why i’m so melodramatic

i guess i’m kinda just facing the inevitable? like i guess it hit me last night that i was just falling back on old shitty patterns and i had completely lost control of myself but god. i really tried. i really tried not to be so fucking nuts but honestly? it’s been a long time of being single after an even longer time of making myself miserable just so i wasn’t single. and like, i guess i should just accept that people are going to say whatever they want just so they can get sex. like i don’t get it. like i was totally all for just fucking and that’s what i signed up for and that’s all i needed. and i just really fucking hate that everything was fine until they started saying shit that was way too sweet and i don’t know why i’m such a fucking humongous idiot.

love is actually the worst, most useless emotion. i felt pretty dead inside and i went around just dissociating constantly. and then for a second i felt something and i finally felt okay, and honestly i am trying so hard just to be fine on my own but i just feel like my life is constantly falling apart. i fucking hate my job. i don’t know if i actually have fun anymore. my parents are losing the house. i feel overwhelmed by everything. i’m really depressed. i’m so passive and directionless that i don’t know how to function without someone giving me constant validation. what’s the point?

the next time someone says they love me i’m going to laugh in their fucking face.

i’ve been dying to go to ireland for over a year now. i was just like fuck it i’m going to go travel because i never do anything for myself because i never know what i fucking want and right now i just want to be somewhere else. i’ve never really been the kind of person to pick a direction and, by some miracle, i have held on to this plan for the longest i’ve ever thought of doing anything. and so i’m just praying that it’s actually meaningful, and that i’m not just wasting my time doing something that i hope will make me happy.

and it’s literally the day before my trip -- this trip that has kept me trudging through my miserable existence for so long -- and i’m having a meltdown just because of some fucking person that i can’t even get angry at for being another shitty dude because they’re not a dude so like what criteria can i even use anymore? why do people only ever seem to want to use me?

the last time i traveled anywhere exciting, i was going through a really stupid break up and i let it affect the good time i should have been having and WOW it would be really nice if i could muster up some trademark Libra apathy right now. I should be fucking excited. I should be happy right now, and I’m not and I’m pissed.

So this is my attempt to unpack things and get on a more rational track of thinking. Because the more i try to tamp it down, the more out of control it gets.

I’m angry for a lot of reasons. I’m angry because I feel disappointed. But I am expecting things that I was never promised, and I have to accept that. I let someone get my hopes up and I can only assume it’s because I haven’t been honest with myself in the first place. A long time ago I asked the universe to let me find true love because I have been poisoned by Disney but it’s a dream that I never let go of no matter how angry of a feminist I was or as independent as I forced myself to be. I wanted to fall in love, and it consumed me. I had this dream that I’d somehow find it if I left Kentucky, and I postponed leaving for a long time.

So I got to a point where I was okay. I was depressed a lot, but I had a vacation to look forward to. I had a huge breakdown back in February because I felt so utterly trapped in my situation, so I said fuck it and booked a trip because life will just have to figure out how to go on without me. I still mostly felt nothing, and I felt lonely, and I wished really hard that I could give a shit about something. I worked on trusting people a little more, and tried to trust myself to receive affection. I asked for a reminder of how it felt to be sexual again, how to touch another person, and promised myself that I’d remain in control and wouldn’t let it hold me back. LMAO

So, I guess I find some comfort in knowing that I got what I wanted. And I mostly didn’t lose control. I’m not self harming. I’m in control of my behavior. As much as I hope that this is a sign that I can have some sort of affect on my reality, it seems unfair for some reason. Like, loads of people never “find love” or they do find it and then it ends because it always ends. Life is shitty and then you die. To hope for anything more is selfish.

So that’s where I’m at. Just... being melodramatic.

There’s not even really anything to be upset about. I’ve literally been going back and forth every other day because I can’t deal with having something good. Maybe that’s my problem.

When I was a kid, there were days when my dad would randomly buy me gifts or give me money or praise me for no reason, and then the next day or even the next hour he would turn on a dime. He called me fat and lazy a lot. He would threaten to hide his money so that me and my mom couldn’t buy food. He was under a lot of pressure and worked constantly, and he took his anger out on me because I couldn’t leave.

My first boyfriend lived four hours away in Ohio. I could only see him once a month, but we talked on the phone all the time. He would get jealous of all of my friends, even girls. When I confided that I thought I was bisexual, he was dismissive. He told me he’d hit me if I cheated on him. One time, he dreamt that he walked in on me fucking some rando, and that he shot me. We broke up for a short time, and I had sex with a guy friend, which I told him about at some point when we got back together. In response, he  said a lot of hurtful things and cut off contact completely.

My second boyfriend was twenty-four when I was seventeen. He was interested in someone who could be a full-time slave, and coerced me into trying more than just BDSM. He would constantly compare me to other people. He made me talk about him fucking other people when we were fucking. He tried to coerce me into having a threesome with some ex-girlfriend of his. He would call me stupid and spoiled, and he constantly made me feel like I was nothing. I let him fuck me in a janitor’s closet at the hotel where he worked. I didn’t enjoy it.

My third boyfriend was as passive as my exes were abusive. He was kind, and he did anything I asked him to, but I’m not sure if he cared about me. He never defended me when his friends put me down. When I confided to him about being trans, he skirted around the issue and wouldn’t call me Nolan.

I cheated on him with the person who ended up my fourth boyfriend. He had gay parents and appreciated me no matter how I identified. I don’t know why I broke up with him. Self-sabotage maybe. I still think about him a lot. I don’t know if I was always happy, but I think for the most part I was. I think he deserved better than me.

There was a stretch of time where I fucked a lot of random people. I met them through other friends, or on dating apps. I didn’t enjoy it. I don’t know why I made the effort.

At one point, I dated this married couple. I even babysat their two-year-old once. I think the wife really loved me. I think I loved her too, but as we can see I have a history of not actually believing that people are capable of finding me important. The husband was just trying to get as much pussy as he could. He made a big show of supporting my trans-ness, but when I was blowing him he didn’t think of me that way. He was one of many men who tried to coerce me into participating in orgies. I think I enjoyed it some of the time, but it was abundantly clear that I did not matter to him.

I had another relationship with this trans girl and I think it was one of the few normal relationships I’ve had. I don’t think I was very good to her, but at least we’re still friends.

I’ve already visited this part of myself. I’ve revisited it a lot. I have tried to work past it. I’ve tried to get away from it. It feels like I can’t escape it, and I think perhaps being in the same place that I’ve always been has contributed to this. I’m sleeping in the same room where my dad has yelled at me, where I’ve cried my way through break ups, where I laid awake and wondered if I’d ever actually matter to anyone.

I dunno why I do this to myself. I don’t know why I do this to anyone else.

I guess it’s just particularly disheartening because I thought that I’d done a really great job of moving past it. I used to think I couldn’t survive being single for a year, let alone two. Also a month ago I thought “Wouldn’t it be nice to literally feel anything at all?” and WOW am I eating my words.

I’m really just feeling way too much and I hate it, and I wish I could say I’m hopeful for the future but like... just, fuck it all. I keep waiting for things to change and they just never fucking do. I wish I could blame my completely shit feelings on being hungry or tired or stressed but like? I’ve taken my T-shot, I’m hydrated, I still felt like steaming shit after I had something to eat. I’m literally about to take a trip that I’ve been anticipating for a really heckin’ long time but instead of being overcome with joy, I can’t stop crying?

What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I let this happen? Why is it like every time I try to stop this from happening, I’m just like “lol it can’t be helped” and let it fucking take over my life?

I guess....... what I’m really trying to say..... is that if I get back from this trip and I don’t have some semblance of clarity and a better sense of direction that I’ll be fucking pissed. Best case scenario: My gut was right all along and I do somehow find true love. Like, trying to be realistic has literally never helped me before so why start now? Yeah, maybe in two weeks time I somehow meet someone or have some magical experience that changes the course of my life forever. Or maybe the universe is chaos and I’ll be forced to live out my existence in this flesh prison until I am suddenly and painfully no longer able to perceive anything at all. Maybe the plane will crash and it will be very tragic but ultimately irrelevant to the grander scheme of things.

Whatever happens, I just hope I never fucking feel this way again because I’m so god damn sick of it.

AND FURTHERMORE I just want to say that I think it’s completely unfair that Chris could be so completely everything I want and to literally read my mind and to look at me with their stupid fucking googly eyes like they actually give a shit lmao who the fuck decided this? i want my god damn money back. love is bullshit the end

[faenaussa]

Stuck between completely crippling, dissociative despair and the strongest cravings for drugs I have felt in ages. I am either so far into the void that I physically can't even get up for hours, or I'm using 5000% of my willpower to not use the energy that I have on getting high. But like, honestly??? Maybe I deserve a little drug abuse?? As a treat?? It's not like I'll have any more available to me once I use the stuff that I stole the last time I relapsed. I've been sitting on this shit for half a year. I've been saving it for some bullshit or using it to get some sick stimulation out of tormenting myself with its presence. But honestly who fucking cares at this point. If I just use it all then I won't have to worry about it anymore. I won't have to use what little energy I have to force myself not to take it. Ryan isn't here for the rest of the month and what he doesn't know won't hurt him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I can't cut because that would really hurt him a lot and the evidence would be clear. I just want some fucking reprieve from everything since things at home are shit and I'm trapped at home because I'm the only one who isn't working on weekdays and can do the hospice shit for grandma. (Sidebar, not trying to be awful here but she's literally so miserable. She doesn't remember anything or know where she is and she doesn't remember me half the time and when she is lucid she just tells me that she wants to die. Like fuck I wish she would die faster for all of our sakes but mostly for her own sake because she is so fucking miserable and has been for at least a year now. She is probably mere weeks away from croaking and I just hope that when she does she can finally be free from the fucking torture shes going through being so sick.) Between grandma a.d thr other cat getting out and going missing for weeks, being home is miserable. I just want a fuxking reprieve. I think about it all day and I dream about it every night. For weeks, all I can dream about is getting high but when I do it doesn't feel like anything in the dream. I had a dream that I drank an entire bottle of tequila and it tasted like warm water and I didn't feel a fucking thing and I woke up sick to my stomach with the fucking cravings and I just want it to stop. Like at least when I get high I don't feel guilty or feel shitty. I hate alcohol but I crave it regardless of that fact. I crave it even though I emotionally feel repulsed and I can't smell it or imagine tasting it without feeling like I want to stab myself. At least I still feel human when I get high. The burden of restraint is too heavy for me to want to carry right now. I just can't fucking care enough to do it anymore. My relationship is the only thing stopping me from cutting and the next best thing is the chemical cheat code. It snowed over two feet at my house this week and I swear to God I'm not going to make it to summer without something in me snapping here and now. Why shouldn't I get to indulge? Everyone else gets to. I feel the same sense of despair that I always have regarding my substance use. I can't fucking take it anymore. I don't want to have to take it. I want to have my cake and eat it too. Its not too much to ask, is it? I want nothing more than to harm myself viciously, but I'll take what I can get if it means that my self destructive impulses won't break my partner's heart.

[maraschinocheri]

Best of 2017 Countdown #1 :: Him, brought home. [ 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 ]

What could I possibly say that I haven’t said already, and multiple times? Maybe this: that Killian Donnelly’s return to Les Miserables to play Jean Valjean six years and a day after he took his last bows as Enjolras seemed like an only half-possible dream, one I imagined might come true in another five years if we were lucky, but then just—did, here and now.

Investment can be defined as an act of devoting time, effort, talent, or emotional energy to a particular undertaking with the expectation of a worthwhile result. To say that Killian is invested in Les Mis, and vice versa, would be a colossal understatement, but let’s go with it anyway. In an ideal world, an actor retains more than just respectful memory of a good first professional job, especially if said actor has walked into that job through the side door, utterly without training beyond amateur dramatics, but with one hell of a rich voice, a rough presence, and enough self-deprecatory cheer to knock over jaded producers. That Killian takes every chance possible to credit Les Mis for everything it’s given him since all the way back in 2008—for the education and experience and friendships and the rounding off of his many physical and vocal edges as he progressed from Swing to Enjolras in 2010/2011—is a testament to his love for the show, and good god, does it ever love him back. If I remember correctly, the only male roles he’s not played in the show are Marius and Thenardier, and he’s found something to bring to every other.

Still, Valjean is no bone-throw of a gift to an actor, even one so deeply part of the Les Mis family. It is an investment in an actor and his gifts both as actor and as man, a mutual commitment between show and actor to carry this monster on that actor’s shoulders and back, sometimes somewhat literally. He may have been surprised by the call to audition for Valjean—I say may because I don’t entirely believe that, whatever enthusiastic bright-eyed and bubbling noises he’s made to that effect in interviews—but he should not have been. No one in a position to influence or be influenced could have missed the trajectory Killian had taken over the last few years, and the timing was good for both the show and Killian himself. The trust implied in allowing Killian to step in with what was essentially fewer than ten good days of rehearsal after he’d left New York speaks volumes; it means a great deal more than just thinking he’d remember how to deal with the revolve.

So, the casting. After an early spring of going over and over it again in my head and weighing several things that had happened around and with Killian in NYC over the weeks before and one offhand conversation, I woke up on Thursday 27 April thinking this is it, this has to be it; if it’s going to happen, make it today. Baz Bamigboye of the Daily Mail typically releases casting news and/or gossip on Twitter late on Thursday nights in the UK/early Thursday evenings in the US, so I had one screen open with that while another showed something that … might have been work, if I hadn’t been so distracted. Then the news came, and it’s rather pointless for me to even pretend I didn’t tear up and feel that old fanfic trope, that release of breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. (There was also some light screaming.) The rehearsal period was going to be so short and brutal, and Killian would be coming straight off an (albeit joyously, finally) emotional run in Kinky Boots on Broadway, but it would be so worth it.

The West End Live performance was a ride. Killian’s Bring Him Home had me rather nervous, and I didn’t love every choice he made, but One Day More was perfection—it was so wonderful to hear Valjean carry the song, and to hear that glorious voice ring out every single One day more! through the crashing wildness at the end of it. I knew at that point that all would be well, that even so soon into the run he’d found something to act as foundation and that he’d continue to grow in the role—and he has. The photo above of him onstage in Trafalgar Square, alone, looking out into the crowd that day made my cold, blackened heart fill with warmth and an absolutely ridiculous, unearned pride that hasn’t abated yet.

Is Killian’s Valjean perfect? No; this year’s resident direction has rushed the production to a point where emotional impact suffers, costing Killian in terms of getting some of Valjean’s truly strong moments across; and he’s occasionally still just as baffled by the end of Who Am I? as he was when he was covering the role. Is his Valjean truly his own? For the most part; there is little to point to in his take that one can say ‘belongs’ to other Valjeans, certainly not to the ones with whom he worked from 08–11. Is it worth the time and effort and the emotional energy—the investment of the show and of Killian himself? Indisputably.

No matter how many words I throw at this screen, I can’t put across how much it is. That beautiful clear bell of a voice that both carried the most gorgeous version of Bring Him Home I’ve ever heard is not what you hear now; it has matured, obviously, as has Killian. But the years between then and now have not harmed much, and in terms of acting, he can go to the most haunted (and hunted) places now, in ways that never rang completely true before, and as I suspected would happen, in the one-on-one scenes, everything he’s learned over the past few years—most especially in Memphis—has made him an incredibly generous actor, tender and careful in one moment, and challenging and thrillingly baton-passing in the next.

(And given that it is me writing this, a moment in the shallow end of the pool: he looks fucking incredible from Monsieur Madeleine until the finale; it’s as if costumes and makeup and wigs have been waiting for this Valjean their whole lives. I confess to making terribly obscene noises at the first appearance of M. Madeleine in Jeremy Secomb’s scarecam video, and the production photography had me half off my chair. No one is surprised, either by that admission or that I gave that photo precedence above.)

Killian has said that when covering Valjean, the show seemed to fly by in an emotional and physical rush; I imagine both that he’s learned the pacing now but still gets caught up in it, and that while he’s not entirely comfortable in the role of Show Dad the way some Valjeans have been, his leadership is in place and his love and respect for his castmates is genuine. He offers advice when asked (and is down for the Yoda comparison) and strongly encourages the work of the Swings and ensemble. For the beginning of the run, Killian was able to share the stage with his very good mate Jeremy Secomb—a nice way to get his feet back under him again, especially with such a compacted rehearsal time, and a few months they both deeply appreciated. His relationship with Hayden Tee is obviously different, but still massively good fun. Both Javerts have challenged and welcomed and worked with him so well.

And come 22 January, everything levels up another notch and possibly to infinity with the return of David Thaxton as Javert. This was my greatest wish for Killian-as-Valjean: to have this remarkable foil in Thaxton, to allow their intense rapport to translate to these two roles. (For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I’ve redacted a short essay on the loss of their potential Enjolras & Grantaire double-act, which never properly materialized after Killian chose not to accept the role of Grantaire in 2009.) I’d hoped for it for a very long time, knowing that that the possibility required Killian to mature on several levels and Thaxton to not grow bored or bitter. Having talked about the possibilities involved there quite a lot before, I won’t go further into them now (though I certainly could, given Killian’s take on Valjean as it stands at the moment), but I will say that I cannot wait to see what they bring to and out of each other again. (And to catch Killian watching Stars from the wings again, losing it on a whole new level.) As a fan of the show itself, of each actor, and of the combination of all three, I will put on the table right now that the next six months of Les Miserables in the West End are going to be for the books. As the song says, and all our debts are paid.

If you’ve made it this far, I hope you understand a bit why I can’t—and have no intention to—shake that ridiculous, unearned pride in Killian, for returning to the Queens, for bringing with him glorious perspective and maturity and joy and responsibility, for coming back—home.

[absurdistocchiolism]

random questions meme

  Rules: Answer the questions written by the person who tagged you and write 11 of your own.

Got tagged by @theticklishpear

1. If you could learn all the careers you ever wanted to be in a single year, what would you study?

My brain is all over the place! Physics of all kinds for a start. Astrophysics, quantum physics... also, marine biology, oceanography... astronomy for sure! Linguistics as something on the side too. Paleontology, holy hell, dinosaurs, gimme!!!

Ahem...like I said, all over the place.

2. Tomorrow’s the last day of the universe. You have 24 hours to do anything you want, no limits. What will you be doing in the last seconds of our universe’s existence?

In the morning I would want to just hop in a plane and just fly all over, even above the cloudline,  getting one last long look at the world.  Then at night, get as high into orbit as possible in said plane with an oxygen tank and throw myself out so I can finally get an unobstructed view of the Milky Way in all its splendor. It would be my last chance to look at it. Might as well go out just at the moment that it all goes.

3. First ever film you remember watching in a movie theater?

I cannot actually recall this in a movie theater. My earliest movie memory is of going to an outdoor drive-in with my family (mom, dad, brother) to see Jurassic Park. Its also my happiest memory, of the hour or two before the movie started, I would wander around the giant parking and the surrounding fields, looking for lost things in the sand/dirt/grass, eating treats I would otherwise never eat, and family troubles being (seemingly) far away....AND THEN BEING BLOWN AWAY BY THE SPECIAL EFFECTS OF THE MOVIE HOLY SHIT.

4. Have you ever met a celebrity/role model/king or queen and who was it?

Nah,but I did  get within a mile of the Dalai Lama once. There once was a group of Vietnamese immigrants who ended up buying an old boarding house near my own home (in the woods, the middle of nowhere!) and renovated it into a Buddhist temple. Maybe a year afterwards, the head monk, named Bon Dhat, came to see me at my house (we had met before, he was very friendly!) all excited and so happy because they had been blessed at their place of meditation with a visit from the Dalai Lama himself! I had never seen him so happy, and he was about the most cheerful person I had ever met.

So that’s how, while I was doing math homework and being more than a little miserable, I missed a visit from the Dalai Lama on my dirt-road street in rural Canada within a mile of myself. Oh well!

5. What do you do when you’re bored?

Read something, either a book or from the internet (usually Wikipedia). Play with my dog, write (bad, and very personal) poetry, try to write one of my stories, clean the house...eat...take a walk with my dog...ask myself existential questions...y’know, normal stuff...

6. What type of food would you sell if you opened a restaurant?

Ha, probably BBQ meals, literally from the grill because I’m good at it, with a specialty ‘dessert’ of thick bacon strips on-a-stick, with a variety of flavouring options for it. I might also try to find a way to replicate the taste of toast on an open fire camping-style. That has a unique flavor I just never get anywhere else. Maybe a camping-themed place? with everything cooked on an open fire! wooo!!

7. What year has been the best of your life and why?

I can’t pinpoint a year, mostly because my sense of time is just whack. But also because I haven’t really had a ‘good year’ ever since puberty, when the depression settled in along with the wild teenage hormones. So anytime before that, when I was free in the woods and pre-pubescent, was good I suppose.

8. How do you react when you see an animal pass by while walking down the street?

I always need to resist the urge to interact with any animal. But it also depends on the animal sometimes. Skunks? MUST SHOW DEFERENCE. Racoons?, Hey buddy, you want something to eat? Ravens? Those I always feel the need to ‘talk’ to. They are smart enough to have weird interactions with, and I love weird. So I chat up corvids in general. I miss the woods, when they were everywhere. Now the sight of any single one is a treat.

9. How would you survive the Hunger Games?

Uuuuuuuhhh, would I be able to kill children? Probably not. So my chances would be slim.

10. Would you rather live up to age 20 having lived the success of all your wildest dreams or live up to age 90 having lived simply a beautiful ordinary life?

‘Success’ is not an end goal for me, but living until 90 sounds daunting. Maybe if I could find a way to live in relatively good health for the duration of it without becoming a burden, I think I could make it worthwhile. But man, watching my elder relatives wither away, some to things like Alzheimer's, has not exactly given me great expectations for my own old age.

11. What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but never have because of fear?

SKYDIVING. ACTUALLY DATE SOMEONE. TAKE A TRIP ON MY OWN. Touch a medusa (animal), those scare me because of ONE nightmare I had. But they’re beautiful, and I would like to face my fear of them at least once.

Okay, here’s my questions!

1. If you could invent a word in any language, what would it be and what would it mean? Noun, adjective or verb? Go wild!

2. Your ideal home, location , size, yard?, number of rooms, how many levels? Dream!

3. Your favorite quote/line from a book or movie or poem, and why? What does it make you feel?

4. You just inherited a billion dollars from an obscure and distant relative. Quick, what do you do with it?

5. What’s your motto, if you can think of one?

6.Oh shit! You can shapeshift! What’s the first thing you turn into?

7. You have an intergalactic ticket to go anywhere in the universe, where do you want to go?

8. What would you tell your younger self to get them encouraged to keep going on?

9. Wow, you are suddenly immortal and invulnerable to any harm! What’s the first thing you want to do and what would you spend eternity doing?

10. What was your strangest dream?

11. Funniest joke/story/pun you’ve ever heard?

I’ll tag @dragonhearted-clevergirl @theloveworthlivingfor @veliseraptor @rogueoftimeywimeystuff and @theticklishpear , if any of these questions appeal to you, feel free to answer them! as always , thanks for thinking of me!

[free-to-be-v]

Feels like Freedom

I loved alcohol. I mean, I LOVED it! I loved everything about it. I loved how it gave me confidence. I loved the apathy that accompanied it. I loved that I was skinnier because I wasn't hungry. I loved that it was accessible, acceptable even! I loved that it relieved me of any and all insecurities and fears I held onto in my life. It took all of those things away, and eventually it took away a lot more than that too. It's funny to think about now; all of the things I loved about it, are all of the things I despise about it today. In the end, I hated the person I became when I drank. I HATED her. I hated her apathy. I hated how disconnected she became. I hated how embarrassed she felt in the mornings, after she pieced together the previous night. I hated that she then went straight for the bottle to relieve herself of that embarrassment. I hated how easily accessible it was to her! I hated who she had become as a mother, wife, daughter, sibling and friend. When people ask me what my drug of choice was, I tell them the truth. Vodka! No hesitation. And yes, alcohol is a drug. It may be legal, but so are cigarettes. Both powerful drugs with the ability to destroy human beings both physically and mentally. There is not a day that goes by where alcohol is not advertised to me. Whether it's on billboards, television or the radio, someone's clothing, the gas station, grocery store, or the menus when out to eat. It's brought up in casual conversations and I am offered wine at Italian restaurants. Most people don't recognize all of these things, but an alcoholic does. As an alcoholic, I find it fascinating when a normal drinker doesn't finish their drink; when they just leave it on the table to be dumped down the drain. I don't understand how they can just leave it there? What you don't see on the side of a liquor bottle is a legitimate warning. The one that reads: "Warning! Alcohol is an addictive substance. Excessive consumption of this beverage may cause irreparable harm to your marriage, the destruction of your family and the slow and painful deterioration of your health. It may cause you to lose your job and home, and suffer financial ruin. You may become a danger to yourself and others. Excessive consumption may also cause health issues related to: Liver, kidney and heart disease, throat cancer, wet brain, depression, anxiety, neurological damage that may lead to permanent "shakes" and quite possibly death." And guess what? Even if that warning label were on the side of that vodka bottle, I wouldn't have read it anyway. Because those things were NEVER going to happen to me. I would never choose alcohol over my daughter, or husband or my own health for that matter. I was too smart to let alcohol impact my job or my finances. And I certainly would never allow myself to become addicted! That's just crazy talk! It's like taking a Tylenol without reading the warning label. I have a headache, I take the Tylenol and it cures what ails me. Alcohol cured what ailed me too, until it didn't anymore, and at that point I was already addicted, because addiction is a stealthy bastard that creeps right in without the individual even realizing it. Addiction is the guest who refuses to leave. Alcohol was the hardest break up I have ever experienced in life. I mourned the loss of alcohol, just as I had mourned the loss of my family and my job, and eventually the lives of some my friends who hadn't quite gotten recovery before it was too late. And I don't say these things to scare anyone or try to convince a "normal" drinker that they should quit. If you are able to drink alcohol like a responsible adult, more power to you! Have your nightcap, or wine with dinner! It does not bother me and I would never pass judgement. Lord knows I tried to drink like you! I tried so hard, I almost died. I am speaking solely to the ones who cannot stop once they start. Those who are just like me. When I first came into recovery, I was literally convinced that I would never have fun again. I thought I had a lifetime of socially awkward situations ahead of me. I wasn't sure I would laugh again or feel confident again. I thought I would be miserable. Interestingly enough, this is usually one of the things I hear first from someone who is new to recovery: "But everybody drinks! I'm going to feel left out! I will be no fun!" Look, I'm going to give it to you straight right now. If you are at a point in your life where alcohol has lead to so many negative consequences that you are now seeking recovery, I think it's safe to say alcohol has already sucked most of the fun out of your life at this point. I can speak from experience and admit that I was NOT a fun person to be around at the end of my active addiction. Most people in my life avoided me at all costs, and rightfully so! I was mean, and sloppy and belligerent. I couldn't drive anywhere anymore because I was always under the influence. I slept a lot and ate very little. I was a shell...hollow and alone. Alcohol promised to fill a void and it came up short on that promise. I didn't realize that, until I let it go. To anyone who says they can't have fun without alcohol, I say "ppsshhhh! I have more fun now that I ever did while drinking." In 2 years and 9 months, I have NEVER woken up in the morning and been like, "Man...I really wish I would have drank last night!" Not once! But there were a hell of a lot of times I drank in the past where I woke up thinking, "Man...I am so stupid. I wish I never drank last night." Freedom...recovery has given me freedom. Freedom of choice, freedom from fear and freedom from self-sabatoging behavior. I just had the most amazing weekend up north with other recovering friends. We laughed and cried and laughed some more. We went kayaking and on pontoon boats and out to dinner and rode motorcycles, all without the use of drugs or alcohol! And it was FUN!!! And now, because of my recovery, I get to go home to the family I almost lost a few years ago. I get to hug my daughter and kiss my husband and go to sleep in my bed in the home that we bought as a family. It's the life I have always dreamed of. There is not a single beverage that could ever fill me with the amount of love and hope I have found in recovery. Freedom...and I am soooo grateful for that today. 💕

[roland-terrasold-blog]

Journal 54

I apologize for abruptly ending my last entry. Just thinking about Cardinal Zalbrag and his take on Sarenrae’s teachings sickens me. I’m up late tonight in hopes that I can finally catch up this journal to the present, I’m still behind by a day or so. It’s not like I’d be sleeping well tonight anyways.

I left off after talking to Mayor Zalag of Sandpoint, who kindly offered to throw a parade in our honor where we could try to clear Elkin’s name. And then I ran into Zalbrag, who I could tell was a total snake after only a brief conversation. My anger at the church’s treatment of Elkin likely didn’t help to color him in the kindest light, but his actions later have cemented my feelings on the man.

Linda must have picked up on how I was feeling, because she offered to come with me when I meet with Zalbrag. I told Linda that I appreciated the gesture, and I really sincerely did, but this was something I had to do myself. I told her if I felt I needed to bring someone, I would ask Nel to come with me. The problem was stemming from the church whose creed I follow, so I feel it’s my responsibility to clear Elkin’s name and undo the harm the church has done. Linda didn’t push the issue, which I also appreciate, although she made it clear the offer would still be open if I changed my mind.

After Zalbrag left we were approached by another man, Bulba of the Pathfinder Society. THE Pathfinder Society. If I’d been in a better state of mind, I likely would have been deeply honored and eager to meet with him. After all, back in my mercenary days Ashton and I sometimes dreamed of someday being skilled enough adventurers to join the Pathfinders. I doubt they ever would have accepted us given our track record, but we hardly had the self awareness to know that back then.

We went to the Rusty Dragon to drink and hear Bulba’s proposal. We were happy to see Betsy still owned the tavern in Ameiko’s place. Sarenrae bless her, Betsy is such a sweet woman. She noted that Elkin wasn’t with us and lamented how the town has been depicting him, and when she saw that I was in a poor mood she insisted on bring out food for us. I deeply appreciate her kindness. She helped to remind me why we keep protecting Sandpoint. It’s because no matter how bad things look, there’s always people like her, Mayor Zalag, and Father Zantas.

The others spoke with Bulba, I listened enough to know what job we were being offered. Essentially the Pathfinders knew we were heading to Xin’Shalast soon, and seeing as no one from the Pathfinder Society had ever gotten inside before they wanted us to gather any ancient technology we found. They offered to pay handsomely for anything of use we could bring back.

We didn’t get to talk to him much after he detailed the job, as he had his own mission he was going on. Two of his companions showed up and they all left. Something about a rebellion in Hell, apparently we weren’t the only group facing down a power evil right now.

The rest of us stayed behind in the tavern for some time. After a while Ichibod showed up and made a bit of a commotion at the front of the tavern, before we steered him to our table. He kept trying to pay people in Blackwellian money, which is made of paper rather than being on coins. Which makes it all of worthless here, but he doesn’t seem to quite grasp that.

Betsy kindly gave him some mead, feeling that he needed it with how he was acting. This may have been a terrible mistake. That man holds his alcohol as poorly as Ashton did. He was embarrassingly drunk.

Before he had drunk himself under the table, however, his son Timmy appeared. Apparently Clyde and Mary had left Timmy at the Rusty Dragon knowing that our group was likely to stop by our old stomping grounds. The young boy only seemed a little concerned about his father’s drastic change in appearance, and mostly seemed happy to finally be with his family again. He’s a pretty young kid but he was extremely well spoken, he seems smart for his age. Ichibod seems very proud of him. I’m glad we came across him. Regardless of what Mary’s reason for working with Clyde may be, abandoning her son in an unfamiliar place was unbelievably cruel.

After a while, we left the tavern to head back to the ship. Unae had gotten some of Betsy’s cooking to go to give to Elkin. We knew we would need to tell Elkin about the state of the town before he ended up wandering into Sandpoint on his own.

We were too late on that front. We ran into Elkin on the way back. He was standing in front of one of the many murals which depicted the four of us. The look on his face was heart wrenching. I can only imagine how he might have felt…

Unae gave Elkin the food she got him and we walked with him back to the ship. Whispers and stares followed us, and this time it felt pointedly different than the reverence myself, Linda, and Unae had gotten from the people that morning.

Ichibod tried to help cheer Elkin up by buying a toy Elkin for Timmy at the shop. Timmy, cute kid that he is, scribbled a happy face over the toy Elkin’s demonic looking mask. Elkin was still in an understandably sour mood, but I do hope the gesture helped a little.

Back at the ship, I swore to Elkin that I would do everything in my power to fix this. Elkin told us not to rock the boat, since the town likes the rest of us just fine. I couldn’t accept that answer, however. Elkin was miserable and in a way I was to blame. Nel keeps trying to tell me this isn’t the case, but it really is. If I weren’t with the group the church wouldn’t have taken an interest in them. There would still be some prejudice against Elkin. That’s unfortunately inevitable at this point. But it wouldn’t have grown into this monstrous lie that the church made it into, and the lie likely wouldn’t be as universally accepted as the truth without their backing.

As such, I had every intention of rocking the boat.

While I tried to clear my head, I ended up chatting with Ichibod for a bit. He was drunk enough I question how much he remembers of our conversation, or how much of what he said is actually accurate. He told me that he had been kidnapped by Blackwell as a kid and placed on the moon, and that he met his real mother and she’s a hag (I don’t know how literal he was being. Given his powers, I could believe it. But I was under the impression that changelings were generally women.) He was uncertain about the future, for good reason given how much our group has uprooted his life. He told me he really doesn’t understand what our group is actually doing. I decided against trying to explain the entire story to him while he was this drunk, but I did tell him that our next step would be another ancient Thassilonian ruin. He seemed to sober up slightly at the mention of Xin’Shalast, his interest piqued by the idea of finding ancient Thassilonian technology. I’m sure when he’s sober Ichibod will be happy to know that’s exactly what Bulba asked us to do there. Eventually Ichibod fell into a drunken sleep, and I managed to pry myself away to meditate on my next move.

Some time later, I remembered that Unae had been talking about her concern at where we would take the children to keep them safe while we handled Xin’Shalast. Linda didn’t intend on leaving her charges with anyone else, and I doubted that Ichibod would be willing to leave Timmy behind in this unfamiliar world. Nor would I encourage it, if something happened to Ichibod he might spend the rest of his life thinking his father abandoned him as well…

In part because of this and in part because I wanted to get my mind off of what was happening in Sandpoint, I decided to work on ‘customizing’ my demiplane, so to speak. It took a number of hours to finish. By the time I returned to the ship, Unae had returned from what she called ‘spreading propaganda’. Basically she’d been gently correcting people on their view of Elkin by acting shocked whenever they said anything bad about him, and told them that his title is ‘the Protector’. (Did I mention that we all apparently have titles in town? Unae is the Serene Huntress. Linda is the Titan’s Arm Legionnaire. Mine is the Transcendent Sinner. We’re trying to get a new title to stick for Elkin, be it Protector or something else. The one the town uses for Elkin is cruel, and I’d rather not acknowledge it here.)

Unae had also commissioned an artist to make a more accurate representation of Elkin, but he needed Elkin to come be a model if he was going to do so. Elkin was understandably scared to go alone, and asked that the rest of us come as well. We gladly agreed.

In the meantime I showed them around our new hideaway. I tried to make it a place that everyone would feel comfortable and at home, although I may have gone overboard. I needed a distraction, and designing the perfect safe haven was actually rather relaxing. Elkin admitted to having peeked into the demiplane with Unae while I was working, and according to them it was a bit terrifying in progress. To each their own I suppose.

If it hadn’t been for the issues with the church and Sandpoint, I suspect I would have slept well that night. I am obviously fond of my new room, seeing as I designed it.

The next day we went to meet the artist who would Unae had commissioned. We stayed there for quite a few hours while he sketched Elkin…and then sketched Ichibod for good measure, deciding to make a mural for him as well. Linda and I spent much of that time reading, while the others browsed the various sketches that littered the house. Unae especially waited with the patience of a saint, at least Linda and I had reading material, and Ichibod kept himself busy digging through sketches and exploring the house.

I just heard footsteps in the hall. There was no one there, and no sound of the door or magic I could sense. I think I’ve been up too late if my mind is beginning to play with me like that. I have no choice but to finish this entry tomorrow.