#idk the weekend had me feeling so lethargic

[temeyes]

too lazy to work on wips and answer my inbox, but have this dood for now!!

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[thelaughingmerman]

I had like such a good day until about 7 o'clock and the anxiety hit me like a freight train

[firespirited]

Today I fixed up a steamer/vacuum which will probably go to the second hand store, attempted to clean and revive an old Siemens pre-smart phone.

Got a Fidgie Friends head and took measurements of the eyes and replaced them with something less glarey. (ultimately I think it's simpler repaint the ones they come with to have bigger irises and might make a tutorial for that) - pics tomorrow.

I impulse bought a Beauty Cuties arriving next week- i know i know. Head the size of a football, neck peg 1/6th size so rebodying on a large doll is not only an engineering puzzle but finding a skin tone match from the mostly white disney animator dolls is going to be rough.

But i'm not feeling guilty about still engaging in the doll hobby and bringing in new stuff that's hard to flip though because it's keeping me sane until I can find something else. Turns out something that doesn't engage the shoulders and isn't strenuous is not easy to find. Keeping me busy and using knowledge has it's own value, I'll worry about the clutter later.

I left a repaired VIP pets at the phone box library a kilometer down the road this weekend and she was gone and not trashed the next day. 😁 A trial balloon for rehoming dolls when the local 'toys for tots' type charity takes new in box only.

I'm also planning to visit the upcycling and second hand shop this month and maybe I can offer my services wiping or repairing devices (can't do the fiddly work of screen replacement or anything with my hands but I'm quite happy to do the tedious work of scanning, formatting and installing). Idk.

Lily the dog is feeling better, her arthritis flare up is calming a little though she's still a little stiff in the back legs. She's back to mischief which is a great sign, she had me so worried when the pain was making her lethargic. I've looked at various harnesses in case she needs long term assistance getting up and being carried down stairs.

Turned off anon again. Don't want to end up between proshippers and antis when my argument is for critical creation and 'consumption' (I hate that word but reading, listening watching is a mouthful) not purity culture. I believe horrible things have their place in fiction because life has horrid parts but they have to be well handled not just there as a narrative device or shock value.

I can see a whole spectrum ranging from people protecting healthy representation of real life horrors from blanket censorship to folks who just feel entitled to write whatever they want without thought of its impact because right now they find that as exciting and for some it's exciting in the same way as saying the n word.

How about we have some introspection about how open honest discussion in the bedroom seems so improbable and cringey to many people that they'd rather imagine a mind reading lover who doesn't ask... and if writing fiction to normalise having so called 'awkward' talks that 'interrupt the passion' might work as well as all the folks who've successfully turned the condom from annoying formality into sexy foreplay.

Whether we're examining the widespread misconceptions about torture that spread via fiction and have become part and parcel of the carceral and military systems or having complex conversations about whether to put sexual assault or suicide in a story and how to handle it with the utmost care...

My life has been changed for the better by stories that handled dark subject matter respectfully with the weight it deserves. So my argument isn't pro or anti. It's let's do something constructive: the way we ask people to unlearn racism and learn anti racist thought: how about the guidelines on death by suicide in mass media, how about we ask people to apply that to their fiction and get to tag their work as tw: suicide but with a second tag that it's been checked for that guideline compliance.

I want to open the scope from whether or not AO3 should exist into how we can help eachother engage in more thought-through creations and more importantly real long term support networks for all sorts of survivors with all sorts of messy ugly thoughts.

But any time I write a post it's a whole ordeal to dare press send. I really hope folks know that it's always a 'yes and' or 'I wish this were true but it's debunked/mislabelled'

Just realised I didn't get anything on my to do list for today done. Eeesh. Well, that's tomorrow's problem. 😅

[cursestothemoon]

Werewolves Of London ( I )

Multiple Part Series

Part I

When Their Eyes Locked 

Word Count: 2016

Fred Weasley x Fem!Werewolf!Reader

Summary: Fred can’t seem to stop himself from staring at you. What happens when your eyes lock? 

Warnings: raunchy banter, description of turning into a werewolf (description of pain and screaming), being in pain, Y/n has a very prominent scar on her face idk if this is a warning (personally i don’t think it is but you can never be too careful😌)

A/N: Alrighttttt chapter one guys, pretty exciting😗. It’s kinda slow, really just introducing characters, background, and existing relationships. AH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE ITTTT, also best friend Lily makes a comeback (not Lily Evans)

“Come on! We’re gonna miss it!”

“We’re not gonna miss shit, either it happens here or it happens there.”

“I’d prefer the latter.”

Cedric let out a snort as he looked back at you, his scarf flapping in the wind and nearly hitting him in the face.

The wind was harsh this Saturday evening, overcast and gloomy, as three students were making their way to the Whomping Willow. The trek was meant to be a quiet one, a sneaky departure from the castle, but of course that was never the case. Not when Cedric Diggory seemed to ooze happiness and joy with each step, his smile warming the crisp, cool air around him; not when Lily Mclaggen (older sister of Cormac) had just as much snap as her brother had confidence and especially not when Y/n L/n, a sarcastic lycanthrope, was about seven minutes away from being in the midst of the full moon.

A sickeningly loud cracking started to sound from behind Cedric, making him turn to see you doubled over.

“Lily!”

“Calm down!”

You groaned, “I’m fine, let’s just go.”

Lily hooked her arm around your waist, shoving you toward the Whomping Willow that Cedric had fortunately petrified. You were able to just catch the familiar badger disappear into the hole under the tree. The pain was excruciating, making your knees give way and your body hit the ground as you felt what seemed to be your bones breaking, muscles tearing, skin stretching to accommodate the form of a beastly form. Groans and screams were pulled from your throat as you transformed, your hands scratching at your neck- or any exposed skin really- to somehow try and claw the pain away.

One last blood curdling scream turned into a strangled howl at the bright moon.

The werewolf stood up, shaking off the dirt from the ground, before snapping at whatever was nipping at its tail. A bone-chilling laugh sounded in the dim tunnel before the hyena gestured toward the badger to start making their way to the shrieking shack through the dark tunnel- the werewolf followed, it didn’t like being alone for long.

--

“Let’s go Fred, before Filch catches up.” George huffed out, his chest heaving from the vigorous running his lungs had to endure just moments prior.

His twin stood still, faint breaths passing from his lips the only thing being heard, his honey brown eyes taking in the vastness of the dark navy sky before him.

Fred had always loved the moon.

If he thought about it hard enough, George could still feel the harsh swats to his rear from when their mother found them out in the field behind the Burrow after Fred had insisted on sneaking out to look at the moon.

George groaned, “It’s just the moon, it’ll be there tomorrow, the day after that and I’m willing to bet my left ear that the moon will be there everyday after that.”

“Yeah but,” Fred grumbled, dramatically gesturing toward the sky with his hand. “It’s a full moon tonight, won’t be full tomorrow now will it?”

The attitude was clear in his tone, even more so in his raised eyebrows and pointed look. George conceded with a laugh, muttering out an ‘alright, Freddie’.

A piercing howl ripped through the silence making the brothers jump and look toward where it had come from- somewhere down near Hogsmeade they’d guess.

Fred slowly turned to his brother, speaking just barely above a whisper, “You think it was a werewolf?”

He had the same glint of mischief in his eyes that he’d get when he was younger and itching to tell a scary story.

George only shook his head, “In Hogsmeade?” He questioned. “Surely, you’re daft Freddie, what would a werewolf be doing in Hogsmeade?”

A shrug was his only response, before he added, “Wouldn’t be too surprising now would it? We’ve got a pink toad in Hogwarts.”

---

Your steps were slow and calculated as you made your way to the Great Hall. Cedric had his arm around your shoulder, no doubt trying to subtly check and see if the bandages he wrapped had held up when you changed into fresh clothes, and Lily had a habit of walking one or two steps behind you just after a full moon- you had a habit of stumbling or even losing balance completely during the few days following.

“You’re looking a lot better than last time, walking around and not stuck in the hospital wing.” Lily commented quietly.

Cedric nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s rather boring without your company.”

The comment was meant to rile up Lily, which it did beautifully.

“Right git you are, Diggory, you’re the boring one. You prefects, I swear-”

Lily continued on to grumble about all prefects being the same as you three made it through the doors and to your usual seats- the farthest table to the right, near the large window, and in between a few Hufflepuffs and a couple scattered Gryffindors.

Heat seemed to trail up your shoulder and to your face, the feeling of eyes on you had you inwardly wincing. You never felt too confident the morning after a full moon and it was most mornings that you could feel the heated weight of Fred Weasley’s eyes on you. Amazingly enough, you resisted the urge to turn and meet his gaze instead opting for taking a seat on the bench in between Cedric and Lily and placing your head on Lily’s shoulder lethargically.

On the other side of the room, Lee was slowly chewing on his bite of sugary cereal as he studied the eldest twin.

“You know, mate, you could just talk to her.” He offered up, making Fred rapidly blink as he was brought back to reality.

He frowned, “We’ve been in the same house for seven years, if she wanted to talk to me… she would’ve.”

His eyes seemed to naturally shift back to your form. You were half asleep, head resting on your friend’s shoulder as prettyboy Diggory couldn’t seem to wipe the bright smile off his face so early in the morning.

Fred had always noticed you. In your first year you had offered him your seat in potions next to George because it ‘didn’t feel right’ splitting him and George up on the first day of school- or so you had said before you went to sit next to another first year, Lily.

Second year was when he started to really pay attention to the rather heartwarming- or so Angelina had called it- closeness of your relationship with Lily. You were a sickly child, it seemed almost every month you had come down with something. Fred could remember seeing little twelve year old you sitting near the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, head on Lily’s shoulder just as it was now and your face incredibly pale yet a warm smile still gracing your lips.

It was the third year when Fred started to realize his curious looks and sweaty palms were not something that just happened. He liked you. The quiet remarks you made under your breath and comedically uncontrollable reactions had him swooning. Third year was also the year that the infamous duo of Y/n and Lily had turned into a trio, prettyboy Diggory finding a cozy spot attached to your hip. It seemed everywhere you went, Cedric was there too.

It was during third year Fred learned about jealousy.

“How do you suppose she got her scar?” Lee asked in a hushed voice not wanting to be overheard.

Fred thought back to when he had first seen you with the gash trailing down from the arch of your left eyebrow to the apple of your right cheek, passing over the bridge of your nose. Sure he had seen you roughed up before, mundane bruises and scratches he imagines you received from being clumsy or maybe roughhousing with siblings he didn’t know you had (Merlin knows Fred himself had enough marks from his brothers roughing him up, all in good fun of course). This was different- violent, it seemed- nothing friendly could’ve made such an angry infliction.

“Does it matter?” Fred mumbled rather defensively. “She’s still...angelic.” He muttered with little regard as to what he was actually saying- his attention was stolen by the grimace that darkened your face as you shifted in your seat to reach for a box of chocolatey cereal.

George faked a dramatic gag, “Sods been a right sap for that girl for years now, still hasn't done a single thing.”

“Give him time,” Lee laughed, moving to shove Fred’s arm teasingly. “Fred’ll man up eventually.”

The seemingly lovestruck boy rolled his eyes at the two, “Fuck off, both of you wankers.”

--

The full moon and weekend had come and gone, the bitter taste of the start of a new school week was on everyone’s tongue as they made their way to their last class Monday afternoon.

You trudged into the dimly lit potions room, the brooding figure of Severus Snape doing nothing to lighten the atmosphere.

“Afternoon, Professor.” You quietly greeted as you slid into your seat.

The man seemed to only grumble out a response, not deeming a proper return of greeting worthy of his time- though you preferred this, rather not wanting to strike up a conversation with the potions Professor.

Lily clambered into the seat beside you, her usual seat, just a few seconds before class started. Her hair was frazzled and her tie a tad askew, silently you handed her a compact mirror from your book bag- though the smirk on your lips was loud.

“Don’t look so smug.” She teased, hand combing down her hair. “You’ve seen the thighs on Natasha Ravenforth, was I just supposed to deny myself the pleasure?”

Her tone was filled with incredulity, eyes wide and questioning almost as if she really couldn’t fathom the thought of not snogging the curvy Hufflepuff just before class. You kept silent, though your smile grew as you felt Lily’s eyes trained on you before she huffed and looked toward Professor Snape who was now beginning his lesson.

The class seemed to drone on, a long lecture from the monotone Severus Snape the only thing filling the agenda had the pace of the lesson slowed to an aching crawl. As your ears started to tune out his painful drawl you noticed it. Like an itch you couldn’t scratch or a twitch you just couldn’t shake, you could feel someone’s eyes on you. You turned to meet the person’s gaze, curiosity indeed killed the cat, and you were met with the honey-brown irises of none other than Fred Weasley. He seemed to be looking at you, or just passed you, with his chin resting on his folded forearms. His lack of reaction to you catching him staring led you to believe he was far too zoned out to know what he was doing, that is until he blinked a few times and his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

You didn’t really know him. Fred Weasley seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once, he was elusive and loud and if you weren’t careful you’d definitely find yourself falling for his toothy grin or boyish charm.

Your eyes seem to lock and you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the feeling fluttering deep within your chest at the way his facial expression seemed to soften and his head tilt ever so gently as his eyes swam with what you could only describe as- for lack of better words- wonder.

A nudge to your ribs brought you back to reality, Lily’s elbow still prodding at your torso until you turned to face the front of the class again just as Professor Snape was turning away from the board he had stuck his nose to whilst writing notes.

With one glance at Lily you could see the irritatingly smug smirk stretching across her face, her eyes still looking forward.

“Don’t look so smug.” You grumbled, roughly picking up your quill to take down notes.

tags:

@siriusement

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@theorangedrummer

@erinruby003

@famdomhideout

@an2402lths

@escapingrealitybyreading

@readyg0erge

@maybesandohnos

@therealhouseelvesofhogwarts

@onlyfreds

[spacegaywritings]

Warming Paws and Melting Walls (2/8) “The Naming of the Beast”

Summary: Remy gets home, his day unusually long and body extremely exhausted. Still, he and the cat seem to get along a bit better as they share a bit of time bonding in their weird states.

Tags: mentions of the vet (+ aftermath), abandoned cat, alcohol/wine, tipsy Remy (being a soft man), food/ meat, pain killer mention, drinking, dummy logic, dummy thicc fucking Remy, Remy the cat whisperer, mentions of Kim Kardeshian.. shien..? idk man, slight mention of systemic oppression bc wow Remy is spilling the beans, name talks, cuddling, snuggling, books, mentions of vaccines, soft insults bc Remy, purposefully horrible old english.

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 // all.

tumblr:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8.

My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Note: If you miss any tags, have issues with links or any other concerns, please feel free to contact me. Anon is on and my DMs are open.

Story under the cut! (Wordcount: ~3,5k)

 It was late when the kitty cat and Remy returned and in all honestly, the receptionist was more than exhausted and done with everything. The whole day had taken a toll on him and interacting with people under bright lights was obviously not the best for a person with photo-sensitivity and self-diagnosed bitch syndrome.

 His body was hurting, the pain had gotten more intense and rendered him a heavy and sleepy mess. He still needed to feed the cat. While the pain killers had done some to ease his pain, the extra activity had him feel like absolute trash, after all.

At least, the vet had found the little queen to be healthy and taken good care of. It indicated that there were owners or strangers to take care of the kitten but there were no tattoos, no marks or anything. Whatever care the cat had received before, it seemed to be over now. Nobody was looking for the cat as far as the vet and the local pet shelter have told him.

 To make sure the cat would be okay, he got scheduled appointments for vaccinations (the kitty cat already got some that day). In like, a month, he was supposed to come back. Considering the cat was about one year old, it was time to refresh vaccinations anyway, at least that is what the vet said. There was so much information smoking in his brain and it hurt him. It was extra weight putting his head down.

 There was no chip for the kitten.. He would set up an ad on-line to show that the cat was found. He and the vet assume the cat to have run away from home or having been left behind after the family moved. Something like that.

Still, he could try so the cat would not really be his problem anymore. There was obviously no name tag or collar. He would have noticed, he is not that fucking dense. The vet, too.

 At least Remy got some answers for what the fuck this kitten should eat and could not ever eat because it could hurt.

 Also, the cat was a she. Well, too fucking bad Remy settled for they/them pronouns. While he talked to the cat, he could at least practice pronouns he usually did not use much. The cat could not get offended. Totally a win-win situatuon.

 The coffee lover curled up on the couch, kitty cat still somewhat drowsy in his lap.To be honest, the cat felt drunk to him, so Remy did not know better but to nurse his own wine while giving the kitten some chicken he had gotten for them.

 “Queen, you are a really really unbelievable thing”, he started as he looked at the tiny void in his lap that was currently chewing on a last bit of chicken pieces.

 He had removed all that bone stuff and washed off the meat before to make sure it was not seasoned or too greasy and such for the kitten. Totally no need to kill the poor thing when he could just be fucking careful and mind their needs and limits.

 “You know, you get all hot on those funny things and you are living with me now - without paying rent - and like, you do not even give me your a name. You are, like, the most mysterious person I have ever met. Fucking rude, you little harlot.”

 Remy sipped a bit of his wine and placed the package on the table. Yes, he drank wine out of a package because he was a cheap person. He needed to pay off the flat he had bought because his job did not make the most money ever. At least it was enough for him having a somewhat cozy and stable life.

 He carefully shifted under the warm weight of the warm fluff. Remy was so glad the vet cleaned the cat so he did not need to do that. Was that extra service? He definitely paid for this shit, not gonna lie. Well, he would get a bill eventually and then he could still get upset over that. Ultimately, it did not matter right? He had some savings and the cat would be gone soon because it was someone else’s kitty cat.

 It was not even in his place to just cuddle with the kitten while watching some bitch flick. But now that he had to ditch his weekend routine for the cat, they had to suck up for it. Also, he was just in a ton of pain by now and hoping for the local wine package to just knock him out well enough. If his senses were numbed, so were his pain receptors because brain foggy when Remy drunk-y.

 “Listen up, kitty cat. We might need a name for you, darling”, he started and looked down at how they were licking over their muzzle and nose.

 The meal was done and the cat seemed satisfied... The little tongue looked so cute, it was so so pink.

 “I mean, maybe you already have a name but calling you queen all the time ..”, he trailed off and shrugged, “you know, don’t know whether you, like, deserve that title to be a name. It is something you earn and live, but you are not just some queen. Except when you are some fucking royal but who the fuck cares about that shit.”

 The cat looked up at him and he vaguely looked back before sticking his tongue out and gently brushing through the soft fur of the little monster of coal he sheltered.

 “Yeah, right. Fuck the Queen. It is not the same as you being a queen. Anyway, it would kinda not be the same for you to be a queen and to be Queen. You know?“

 Remy chuckled as the kitten pushed its head against his ribcage.

 “You totally get me, don’t you?”

 The kitten meowed in reply and he continued to pet the little ball of softness. The little one even smelled great. Well, now.

 “Okay, let us give you a name that fits you. I don’t know, honey. Something fancy but also classy because it is you”, he giggled, “I don’t know but we will find something!”

  Remy gently picked up the little kitten and hummed as he stumbled over to the bookshelves. His wine was abandoned and the small void simply meowed in response to his actions.

 “You know what, fuck that show. They all suck anyway, honey. Reality TV is just a nice background .. nice, like.. what else would people watch Kim Kardeshian for? Genuine interest? Gurl, it is all about the sounds and sights or plainly being the malicious bitch to gossip and ridicule these people.”

 He giggled and settled before the bookshelf, sitting there with the little queen on his arms. Was queen a title, now? Not a name but somehow some kind of pet name, huh.

 “You know what, kitty?”, he whispered and the cat shook their head at the sudden sounds and the wet breath Remy offered. They pushed their little head against the man’s collar bone.

“I am that kinda bitch to do all the heavy gossiping.”

 He laid down and let the cat rest on his chest. His back was pressed against the dark floor in his reading corner. The curious little cloud looked around and stood up, tail curiously moving from one side to the other. Then it stayed and moved in slow-motion before returning to the other side while staying kinda between low and horizontal.

 Cats were so cute.

 And the cat really looked like a cloud.

A dark one.

Not a black sheep, a black cloud!

 “Storm cloouUuUuUd”, Remy sang softly and the cat turned back to him, letting out a responsive sound in reply.

 They understood him! Or were at least annoyed enough to react and give him a “what the fuck” look with all the sassy cat-ness in their bi-coloured orbs.

 “Aw!! You react! But that is a long way to go, still, you brooding little dust ghost.”

 He blew a little bit off of the cat’s head and brushed it off to make sure it was all clear. Maybe from the chicken or the couch.

He had to cleaaaan, ew. Woooork.

Bad cat. They really be spreading the dust around like a little ghost.

Damn it, he only wanted to find some nicknames for the small being.

  “Cat, can’t you do the work for me? I mean, come on, I totally got you to the vet and you got drugged for free. That is a real favour to do for a stranger, gurl.”

 The cat looked back up at him.

Oh, how could he have forgotten about that??

 “Bitch!”

 Remy exclaimed wildly and sat up, simply to fall back into the ground with a dull ‘thud’ accompanying his motions. The insides of his head seemed to be forcefully shrunk together and the tipsy man groaned in annoyance. The pain was so fuzzy and far away, it was basically a street sign on the other side of the street during a day of heavy fog.

All he did feel was the heaviness of his head and the horrible throbbing that came right after he limply dropped into the hard wood again.

 “uh… Aw, I am the dumb bitch, here. Kim, save me”, he weakly slurred.

 Obviously, he was in about the greatest state to take care of another being, especially one that was just as drowsy as him and slowly processed his sudden movements with flinches away from him.

When the man did not move, the curious guest nudged Remy’s nose with their own.

Had the coffee lover seen it, he would have swooned, probably.

 Well, on the other side, he slowly got himself together and carefully shifted again, this time being considerate of his own and the kitty’s needs. He was much slower, lethargic in a way, it would make Sloth itself jealous.

Eventually, he was in position, vision still blurred with blackish spots tainting his view on the dimly lit apartment.

  “So- as I was saying… wait”, he started yet trailed off soon after, voice quieting down and light eyes closing.

“uh.. yeah, I know where I left off. So, as I was, uh, saying.. Like, bitch! You are totally as tipsy as I am with all those killers in ya, big boi.”

 Once more, his own giggles filled the room while the cat just pushed their head against his chin. The creature somewhat vibrated a bit and it felt oddly funny to Remy. Indescribable sounds came from the little kitty cat. It did not sound like a Queen, not really. It was more like uh.. a cat. Nothing else Remy has ever heard sounded quite like that.

 “You uh.. you still need a name, you little void egg, you. Hihi.“

 Remy curled and gently cradled the black ball closer. His grip around the cat was secure yet loose. The cloud of nothingness was comfortably sunk into his arms as the man got onto his wobbly legs and moved his jelly sticks closer to the little corner of books and boxes once more.

The kitten did have more than just great taste to hide there when they first started exploring some shit around his flat.

 Their flat?

… uhh.. the doc said to look for the original owners.. oh man, he still had to do that on top of all the things he had to do. And he did not even know whether it was worth it but it was much better than just giving the cat over to some shelter.. uh.. cat thingy.. cat orphanage?

Cat orphanage. Sounded like a totally valid word. Yes, Remy, the name was, like, totally not sanctuary. Absolutely it was not. You fucking genius.

 The kitten was snuggled up to Remy’s chest, acutely unaware of the change of environment that slowly came around with Remy wandering off their spot to really dive into the corner of his secret reading delights. He was back on the oriel, the space were the floor was not any dark wood anymore but instead carpeted in wine red. This was the only piece of floor in his home that had a little bit of carpet and it just started with a provisional glass door he had put there with more than just a little effort.

Basically, this little corner was a glass globe library with the perfect sight on the snowy streets and other weather conditions throughout life. Due to architecture, he basically had a built-in bench because some oriels build a “dent” into the home which can be used as some kind of elaborate and excessively broad window sill.

 It was worth all the work he had put into it.

Whenever he came in to read, it was calm and silent, it was warm but easily adjusted by opening the windows or turning on the heating (considering he did not live in the warmest region on earth at all. In fact, he lived in a more moderate climate and enjoyed the tendency towards coolish temperatures. Despite climate change, there was still snow early in the winter months).

 The two curled up on the floor, leaning against a beanbag. Remy was leaning against the beanbag, to be specific. The kitten was curled up on Remy, cuddling into his arms like the hazy bitch they were. The Queen could barely process anything but well, steady ground it was.

Remy was resting on the bean bag, the cat silently meowing at the change of softness around them when the home-owner slowly turned his body for the kitten to slide against the bad with him.

Maybe the cat liked it. Nobody could know anything because the cat was out of it and also, cats were hell-spawns who were not to be understood but worshipped only.

 A book was resting in Remy’s lap. When did he pull it there? He did not remember. Maybe it had just settled with him, flying over or whatnot.

The book was one hell of a beast.

Pages upon pages were stacked on top of one another and bound together in the obscene creation of a whole book that held knowledge, big enough to rival a human brain in size - at least when putting this knowledge onto pages in barely readable fonts and size.

 “Yo, cat. We need a name for ya, honey.”

 He let his head roll to the side and then back into position again. The void looked over at him and seemed to shrug. Maybe Remy was imagining things.

 “Uh.. You can’t read that for me, now, can you? Why do people even get cats, man. Like, no offence but is that not why we have human beings? So we socialise and uh .. uh like.. taaaalk and hate one another. Cuz we totaaally need that kinda interaction.”

 His voice let the words blend in together, the muffled sentence barely resembling different words or sounds but instead one big hum. Useless blabber, at most. Not that the pet would understand him if he was putting proper effort into talking like a sober and completely sane person.

 “Caaat. Caaaat, just learn reading? Give yourself a name, gurl. Independence!”

 Yeah, well.. This seemed not to work, in fact, it obviously resembled a fruitless endeavour instead. Much like teaching a donkey how to sow greens, the cat took up Remy’s words and ignored them skilfully. Even in his tipsy mind, he was well aware that an animal would not just magically learn reading and then read out to him. However, the wishful thinking was still in his heart… and his foggy dummy mind.

He reverted to child-like attention spans and reasoning abilities whenever he got to drink just a bit more than a little. And honestly, the wine got a little to him, especially with this bottomless void eating, like, all of this fucking chicken.

 He mumbled something about sharing under his breath before he pulled the book closer and heaved it open with his weak noodle power. There was not that much energy left in his heart. He was tipsy and as soft as molten butter.

The book groaned as it was opened, awakening the pages of knowledge from deep slumber.

It willingly dropped the front and backside onto Remy’s lap. It spread like a good partner for the intimate deeds. The excitement of being handled and warmed by a knowledge-seeking person got to it and drove the book to reveal just the right passage for them.

 “Names.. Names. Kitty cat, pick a name.”

 “mrrrow..?”

 “Yeah, hoe, but like, you’re a Queen.. to me and not to others so how about you lemme pick a name,  so the mortals can give you their foolish attempts of daring to raise their voice at you without spoiling your title, you void hoe.”

 The cat gave him a slow-motion blink of two eyes. These wonderfully coloured eyes.. How were cats allowed to just have such precious gems as eyes. Like.. did he rob some jewellery store thing.. did they have names again, he felt like they had some kinda name and he was supposed to know this and all.

Uh, he would be clever later.

 “Alright. This is a name dictionary thing. Like, for when you get a baby and you need to name that little shit, so the system can discriminate against it. It gives you names, you know. You have them according to the alphabet which is a linguistic attempt at bringing order into the way we communicate and organise shit. By the way, this is totally lame because language is fucking liv- ah, uh.. alive. That’s the bitch I was looking for.”

 Remy suppressed a burp before he allowed himself to continue.

 “Can you .. can you just paw this thing?”

 The cat did not move. Uh.. He carefully nudged the little monster. A lazy glare was thrown his way but this is where it stopped. Such a lazy hoe. They would be the bestest of friends very soon.

Seriously, kitten? Not even some dumbass meow sound or whatever? Wow, okay. Selfish much.

 He groaned.

Now we was getting upset with a little cat. He made it this far in his life. Instead of diving deeper into any negative feelings, he moved himself. His finger gently tapped onto the paw once more and softly stroked it before putting it onto the page.

 “Oh, mine own dearest liege, I has't did summon all the fucks i has't hath left to giveth and ‘t wast enow to maketh.. this miracle! Uh - thou hath moveth thy fucking paw. ”

 …Not even that did get the cat to as much as meow at him. At LEAST the void monster spared him a glance of annoyance for his effort. Valid, valid. At least some feedback, thundercloud. Yet, the moment was gone as soon as it came and the kitten then dropped the whole thing and looked down again.

Some sorta ritual to close their eyes and nap away. Even the cat had better living habits than he did.

 “Nonononono, dun nap jus yeeeet! V-V … uh..”

 He had taken up the name from the book, accepting the fate of the paw and started looking into the decision of the higher spirits. He was ready to act up on whatever the heavens and skies and all that shit have decided for the cat to be named.

 The man squinted at the pages.

The top of it said “V”, so he knew that this was the start for their name now. Of course the Queen would be such a diva and end up with a name as unique as starting with such a rare letter. Totally Extra :tm:.

To be fair.. who the fuck used those letters anyway, man.. xylophone? Laaaaaaaaaaaame. Virginia, Voltron, V-.. V…

 “Virgil”

 Remy blinked.

He blinked multiple fucking times.

The name did NOT, unlike his mind’s stupid expectation, suddenly change into something like, uh, you know,… Jared. Some funny shit.

 No, it was still this name. Virgil.

 “Is that even a name for a cat who I declare to be gendered in the neutral only? Uh, you know.. whatever, like, it is whatever because you are a QUEEEEEENG.. Queen.. a queen. You just un-rule gendered names. They are stupid anyway, guuurl. Fuck this all.”

 “Queen Virgil! Now how does that make you feel, huh?”

 The kitten gave him another blink and finally retreated their paw.

 “Yeah, my little nightmare goat. We are gonna go nap all night, all day!”

 The man giggled again. Then he made sure to just give up and fall asleep like that, curled up on a beanie, kitty cat fur tickling him and doing nothing to facilitate his breathing. All he breathed in was ai- uh.. No.. Virgil’s fur.

 Welcome to a change of life, huh?

Or simply: “Welcome, Virgil”.

[the-numbers-game]

I'm probably not gonna make much sense... as this is yet ANOTHER ramble. World MH day is almost gone here in Scotland. It probably will be after midnight by the time I post this.

I should be writing my dissertation proposal due on Friday, that I told my tutor I would probably submit early, back in the summer and now I'm struggling to write a basic plan about a political party I love because I am 1) a procrastinator 2) stupider than I was 4 years ago ((my last year of high school)) and 3) weirdly sad.

Mental health is this mad, mad subject. I'm okay. I really am. But at the same time, I'm still an anxious fuck. Since leaving my old job that I had a pure love-hate relationship with, as I've posted about before, a lot of unnecessary anxiety has left me. No dread about public transport. No customers coming to tell at me. None of the "other" stuff. I dont feel physically sick and have to take a day off. I'm mostly glad to see the back of it but I'm sad I left a job where I knew what I was doing and was good at (most of the time, sometimes a co-worker or a manager made me EXTRA anxious and made me question my competence). Minus the customers, I constantly provided a good level of service. However, my engagement with customers and giving them a "real", full on servic was rather staggered. When I worked at my first store, I was constantly buzzing and was that annoying(tm) sales assistant. When I tranferred and after my mum died, I just didn't have the energy. After some time off for MH recovery and a really lovely pep talk from my manager at the time (the type of thing youd hear in a movie - no lie) I was back into it - for a while, at least. From then, it fizzed up and down. We're going off topic now. Maybe I'll leave that for another post. Anyway, back to the point. Major workplace anxiety left me. In my new job, I feel somewhat refreshed. Like a weight has been lifted off me.

That's not to say I'm not anxious. I've forgotten how to talk to people. I talk to my team, but I'm not really connecting with anyone. I talk to people, and there's a few I get on with - but nobody is a friend. Two have me on Linkedin but nobody has me on Facebook, nobody asks me to join them at lunch. I find it difficult when I'm doing tasks around the office to talk and ask questions to people in other teams - presumably a confidence issue, perhaps because of the entitlement of some of my previous co-workers. I'm worried people think I'm rude. I feel like I make silly mistakes and ask people the same very minor questions all the time. I know that's normal because I'm new, but I'm just finding it hard to have that connection so many people have naturally. Don't get me wrong, the work I'm doing is pretty basic and the experience is soooo valuable but my confidence isnt there.

Uni is another issue. I thought, entering fourth year, I would be disciplined and be able to study because my degree relies on it. Working three days a week on my "off" days from uni and having a full weekend to myself made me feel motivated. But I'm struggling. I wasn't feeling too bad about everything until Sunday night when I started to feel a little anxious. And then I had an intense seminar on Monday,  followed by another one on Tuesday, with the same tutor. I think I'll get there but I worry about my future if I don't.

My future. Fuck. I keep putting off applying for vacation schemes and training contracts and attending open days and insight evenings and volunteering and everything else. I dont feel rounded. I can't answer the questions on the applications because even though I've got experience in committees and I've been working 15+(now 22+) hours a week since I was 17 this isn't enough. Others manage it because they're wealthy and don't work. Others manage it because they have more drive than me. I'm lethargic and I don't want to be. But a day of uni/a day of work poops me out and even just doing my prescribed readings for class on top of this makes me feel ill.

Anyway. Sorry. Yeah. I'm an axnious mess. But I'm not as bad as I was. But in ways... am I worse?

Or am I just lazy??? I'll never know.

I had this horrible stress dream on Sunday and I think that's fucked me up into thinking like this. I'm okay. Really. I can function. I used to take a lot of panic attacks. And now???? Hardly ever. Even last year, around about Xmas time I think I had a tad of depression (not diagnosed so we dont know for sure). I wasn't excited for Christmas and I spent a lot of my time, at the end of 2017, just feeling a little bit ...not there??? Like it came outta nowhere. The end of my summer was a bit anticlimactic, for reasons that are too deep to go into (mostly about work and also realising one of my courses had been missold to me). I was so so lucky to have Ruby and Callum in my life but like......my energy was just so low. They just kept me going (and stuff often do).

Today, I'm alright. And I have been forms long time. I just find it hard to put in the 110% you need to. My emotions feel real again. I cry about dogs on a daily basis and I laugh and I have a list of good that outweighs the bad about my life. I need to learn to not be scared of engaging with other people and I need to dedicate time for me in the future.

I'm also growing up. Like. I can't function as well on 0 sleep as I could even in like March. One of my best friends, who I dont see often anymore and who also doesn't have facebook was flabbergasted when I informed him of this... he also reminded me that I'm still young and hormes and shit...

Idk where I was going with this post but I'm just so.... so...... urgh. Yeah.

Like this post mental health doesn't make sense. And like me my MH is sound but also a bit of a dick.

There's A LOT of other shit I wanted to stay but this has gone on too long and I need to sleep for work in the morning!!!!

Anyway ily all and thanks for staying with me.

You are kind and valid and I probably love you.

xxxxx

[heavensigh]

My stomach has been plaguing for the past 7 days now. It's obvious I need to eat more little snacks throughout the day instead of relying on breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I got some more fruit (pears and apples) along with some healthy trail mix. I find myself waking up in the middle of the night because of the pains but sitting up for an hour or so seems to help. I still try not to take my meds and I'm not 100% sure why that is. I guess I feel like they can cut me off at any time so I should save the pills I have. Idk.

I've made peace with the house sale. We had 3 showings yesterday and still no offers. Even after 2 people from last week said they were going to submit offers. I think it's heaven design because we still don't have a new place. We removed the clause of us staying in here until the end of Sept as to not scare away any offers. But if someone puts a good offer on the table and we accept it, we got to get the hell out. Chu's paperwork still isn't in and we either stay in temporary housing once we hit Cali or get something now. Maybe we listed it too early. But I guess it doesn't matter. Getting an offer closer to the end of Sept would be ideal. So I won't be complaining anymore about it.

Because of our hectic struggle and only one car I haven't worked out in about a week. This may or may not be causing the issue with my stomach. If I'm at home and not doing much, the day just seems to fly by and I find myself lethargic and disoriented. I eat less and tend to sleep more. But when I'm too active, especially in this heat, I get sick as well. I'm going to start meal planning again and try to work out at home. With school starting again next week I should get back into my groove.

I feel like Chu has been gone this whole weekend. Gotta cut out more time for us.

[kathleenanayaarchives]

i’m still tired. still sleepy and lethargic and my jaw isn’t too pleased either.

i let myself become corrupted by short-term gratification and it’s bogus. how can i think of anything like that as gratifying? i know better.

i hope the weather is better this weekend. i really wanted to visit my bookshop but it snowed and that wasn’t part of my travel plans. but it should be just rain next weekend. i don’t necessarily need new books. but i need some of her endless, bookish charm. maybe a novelty item. something to give me some spring ooomf.

fell asleep last night watching mad men so i’ll have to go back and piece together my last coherent memory. idk. s5 is sad and sorry :/

trying to make it through that and the office and i honestly don’t have much motivation for either. i enjoy mad men more. well, both have their charms. but mad men makes me feel gross about the complexities of human nature and the office reminds me of how i felt when i hated my job and had no confidence. but i’m already so far and it’s good research. siiiiigh.

getting invested in roswell, nm. i like a lot of what it’s doing. also watching the new girl and actually loving it. i avoided zooey deschanel for so long bc of all the usual complaints but it’s a fun charming show and her lame character totally makes me feel better. i’m unfortch kinda Like That™️ but i’m seeing my ability to relate without the cringe of my earlier judgement as self acceptance and growth. victory!

still not awake. i kinda thought this would help.

going to run my bath. my hair is a greaseball.

planner & gratitude journaling!! don’t let pms win!! it’s gonna try!! whine! but don’t give up!!