#in the middle of trying to find a way to get medically recognized by someone without just getting diagnosed with tourettes bc i already am

[hopegrasping]

If u have a brain that repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats things :) I love you. No one understands the comfort and frustration of having a brain that repeats like we do, but oooooooOOOO when the repetition is COMFORTABLE!!! <333 Like YES girl go on, and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on for a really long time pls :)

[restinslices]

ALRIGHT ENOUGH ANGST MY HEARTS DEALT WITH ENOUGH 😭 CAN I REQUEST THE LIN KUEI BOYS TAKING CARE OF A SICK READER?

I also got another fluff request but for Kitana. Y’all make me sick, I could just BAFFGSGTGSGG (me vomiting cause y’all don’t wanna be depressed). Using stupid pictures because I don’t think I have for them yet.

Bi-Han

The haters will try to convince you that Bi-Han wouldn’t give a fuck. That he’d tell you to walk it off or some other mean shit 

I encourage you to ignore them

Bi-Han is snippy but y’all let’s be fr, he’s an older brother. He’s the older brother. He’s definitely been forced to take care of his brothers 

As the oldest brother he’s always had to do shit for his brothers so this is not his first rodeo 

If it’s something small and you’re in the middle of something, like a mission, he’d encourage you to pull through. If you’re not in the middle of something then he’d take care of you 

A small illness can become bigger so he makes sure to address it right away

He knows random remedies you’ve never heard of. Jump down, turn around, pop your ass, swallow a lemon and now you’re ok

You’d recover way quicker with him watching over you 

And if I said he makes you meals will y’all boo me for making him soft?! Idc.

Once again, he’s the oldest. I’m the youngest so I’ve seen how much weight the older ones gotta carry. He for sure knows how to do things like cook, clean, take care of sick people, ect. 

He makes these heavenly soups and just like that, your sore throat is gone 

Soups, teas, a nice healing stew, he’s on it

If you have body aches, he makes you do certain stretches 

You swear this man knows witchcraft because everything he suggests works 

Obviously if you’re heating up he’ll put his hand on you. We knew this was coming.

He’d prefer you to use an ice pack or use a cold rag but let’s be real, you’re not gonna do that when you could just cling onto him 

The best doctor the Lin Kuei has ever seen even if he won’t admit it

The strongest of illnesses mean nothing to him. He’s gonna get the job done 

Kuai Liang

Also a good nurse

He’d ask Bi-Han for some help when it comes to soups and shit. Kuai Liang can cook but he recognizes that Bi-Han got a magic touch 

If you’re in the middle of a mission and feel unwell, he wouldn’t tell you to stop what you’re doing but he has you doing less. He’ll have you behind him and would suggest you to do simple things, like keeping watch 

If you’re not on a mission then he’d pay more attention. You expect that Bi-Han would have you wait and Kuai Liang would treat you right away but I think it’s the opposite. Bi-Han being the caregiver knows how annoying it is to take care of someone really sick (which could have been prevented) and Kuai Liang is the younger sibling who would put off mentioning his illness 

He’d have you track your symptoms at first to see if it’s something serious or something a quick nap could fix 

Lingers around you to make sure you’re ok

Cooks you warm meals if you’re cold but if you’re warm he’ll give you cold liquids 

You can’t sneakily miss taking your medication cause he’s on your ass. Probably has an alarm set and everything 

If you’re overly warm he won’t be all on you because he’s warm, but if you want physical touch he’ll let you hold his pinkie 

Bi-Han gives you remedies even if they taste absolutely vile but I think Kuai Liang would try to give you remedies that don’t taste that bad 

Has you laying down a lot so you can recover quicker. If you have no responsibilities to tend to he’s not letting you get up 

You’ll have to convince him to let you do things like, oh idk, walking around? I have the flu, I’m not dying 

When you start to recover then he lets you move around like normal. He just doesn’t want you exerting yourself and getting worse 

Tries to find out if there’s a certain thing you were exposed to that got you sick so it doesn’t happen again

Tomas Vrbada

Similar to Kuai Liang in the sense that if you’re on a mission he’ll want you to do less intense things, like keeping watch 

He constantly asks if you’re ok and what your symptoms are 

If it was up to him, you’d be sent back home immediately. You’re just gonna get worse and you probably can’t focus 

If you have nothing to do then he’s basically right on top of you

I feel like he has random thoughts he doesn’t want to have and he makes himself paranoid. He’s the type to google his symptoms and legit starts to think he has cancer because WebMD said so

He also thinks out loud so he’s the type to say “what if you’re dying?… that actually wasn’t appropriate. I’m sorry”

Nah, you gotta move now Tomas 

Because of his paranoia he’s constantly checking up on you 

Kuai Liang but worse because you can convince him to let you move like a normal person but that’s not happening with Tomas 

Becomes your nurse and your butler because he’s doing everything for you 

Cooking? He got it. Making tea? He got it. Making sure you take your meds? He got it. Grabbing a cup of water? He got it. Wanna walk to the bathroom? He got strong arms-

He’s neither hot nor cold so feel free to snuggle next to him 

His brothers are soup kind of guys but I think he’s more oatmeal and tea 

Also tries to give you better tasting medicine but sometimes you just gotta thug it out 

If a mission comes up but you’re still sick, he will not let you attend at all 

Constantly drying your blankets so they can be extra warm if you’re cold 

Distracts you by talking about random shit

Only convinced you’re not dying when you’re no longer sick

He’s on your ass 24/7 but it’s Tomas so who’s complaining?

This is not me turning over a new leaf. If I think of something sad, y’all WILL hear about it💕

[that-bi-fan]

so. I don't think I'll ever finish this fic. a) I lost the motivation to continue it, and I don't want to force myself to keep going. b) even if I did continue it, I don't know where I'd go with it. so, without further ado;

Coma!Buck canon divergence! AKA Eddie's in the coma dream!

"Can you help me find my dad?"

Buck hesitates, his feet slowing for just a second, but it's enough to second-guess himself. He needs you, a voice in his head says, Needs your help. Help him, Evan.

He looks toward the direction he was going, and can't remember why he was running in the first place. Weird. He looks at Christopher and decides to help. It's what he does. Fix things. 

He smiles. "Sure, bud. C'mon." 

Christopher walks in front of him, Buck's footsteps falling into sync with his instantly. The hospital hallways twist and turn, but it doesn't seem to bother Chris. They walk in silence, and Buck stops walking to let Christopher get a little ahead. That's when he notices the boy's shirt flickering. One moment, he's wearing a dark blue jacket over a striped shirt, the next, he's wearing a white and yellow striped long-sleeve. The latter is soaked through with water. Buck's ears start to ring.

"Buck!"

He spins, looking for who yelled his name. It sounded like Eddie, but he'd never heard so much panic in Eddie's voice before. The hallway behind him is empty, but every single door is spattered with blood. Noise comes from all around him, voices yelling; "Firefighter down!", "A firefighter's been shot!", "Thirty feet of wet earth, coming right down on top of him.",  "We'll do our best.", "Are you hurt?" "Can you hear me?!" until it's all too much for Buck to handle. 

He stumbles, catching himself on the wall. Christopher sits in front of him, on a bed that doesn't belong in a hospital, wearing a green flannel button-up. "Hey, Buck," He says. Something in his head is yelling no no no wrong wrong WRONG. Buck sinks to his knees.

"Where's Dad?"

Now Buck can taste something distinctly metallic on his tongue. Eddie's blood, he realizes. He's wearing that damn white shirt, the one he threw out in this same hospital over a year ago. Eddie's blood sticks to him, in little dots. Half his face is covered in those dots. Christopher shouldn't be seeing him like this. 

He turns away, When did he stand? He can't remember, and finds that the hospital has shifted so that he's inside a room. Doctors and nurses are moving around quickly, trying to patch up someone on a gurney. Buck moves out of their way, but still, a nurse clips his shoulder. "Ah, sorry I-" Buck stops mid-apology when he recognizes her face. 

"Taylor?" 

Everyone in the room stops moving. Looking around, Buck notices other familiar faces on the medical staff. The doctor holding wads of blood-soaked gauze is wearing Ali's face. A nurse by the door looks like Abby. The one bringing in fresh gauze resembles Connor. In the middle of it all, on the gurney, is Eddie. 

Buck breathes, and everything falls back into motion. 

He rushes forward, grabbing gauze from Not-Connor. He practically throws himself onto the gurney, looking for the source of the blood, of Eddie's pain, but all he can see is red. The others don't even try to tell him to stop. 

Buck feels for something, anything, that would reveal itself as a wound. "C'mon, Eds, please. Come back. I need you." He puts a hand on Eddie's face, leaving behind a bloody handprint. Eddie's eyes snap open, and Buck can swear his heart stops.

"Hey, Buck. Good to see you." Eddie's voice sounds off, sounds far too calm for their current situation, but Buck can't bring himself to care. The bleeding's stopped. He's okay. He throws his arms around Eddie's neck and pulls him in for a hug. He fights the lump in his throat so they can actually talk, but when he pulls away, he feels himself sink ever so slightly. No, no no- He looks down to see he's knee-deep in mud.

Eddie doesn't look very worried for a man almost entirely buried in mud. Buck panics, trying to pull Eddie out. The hospital room is gone, replaced by an open area. Around him is his family, the 118, looking on as Buck struggles. Eddie says something, so quiet Buck barely hears it. He leans in to hear better.  

"I'm still alive down here!"

Rain starts pelting him. It soaks through his shirt. The blood that dried in it starts to run. He's stuck in the mud, watching in horror as Eddie sinks in further. "No! Eddie! Please-" Buck screams as Eddie sinks completely. He claws at the ground, feeling himself sink deeper. He looks at his family, his eyes pleading for them to help, but all they do is stare. He's almost neck-deep when he hears an echo of his own voice saying, "Wait. You all think he's dead." Bobby stares into space as he responds, "Nobody thinks that." Chimney has the same look on his face when he says, "We just don't know how to get him out." Buck is completely buried when Hen says, "Nobody's giving up, Buck. Nobody. We're gonna find him."

When Buck opens his eyes again, he doesn’t know where he is. It's like he's in an empty space. There's no visible light source, but he can see completely fine. It doesn't make any sense. When he was with Maddie, and later with Hen and Chimney, everything, sans Doug, seemed plausible. Like it was a normal, albeit weird, day. But with Eddie, it's like he's just reliving his greatest regrets and traumatic events, one after another. 

The shirt clings to him, half-dry already. 

Buck hears an echo of footsteps, and turns to find himself facing Eddie. "Buck?" He asks, "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" Words stick in Buck's throat. He's vaguely aware of a stinging pain, reminders of scratches that took two weeks to heal after the tsunami. "Eddie-" "Where's Christopher?" There's a roaring in his ears, a noise of chaos that he can hear, but can't see. 

"Eddie." It's a plea this time. For him to understand. Buck feels like his windpipe is collapsing. Eddie still doesn't get it, or maybe he does, but he's denying it. "Why do you have his glasses?" There's something in Eddie's voice that kills Buck. 

"I'm sorry." Is all he says. Tears roll down his face. "I'm sorry," he repeats, over and over and over, but no apology can bring back someone's kid. His best friend's kid. His kid.

"Oh, you're sorry? Sorry isn't gonna cut it, Buck. You lost my kid. How can I ever forgive something like that?!" Eddie's angry now, and rightfully so. But this isn't how it went. Right? "Eddie-" He starts again. "No, Buck. You don't get to try and apologize. Do you know what this is doing to us? Wake up, damn it!"

Buck blinks. "..What?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, closing the distance between them. His nose is inches from Buck's. "You heard me." He shoves at Buck's chest. Buck stumbles, not even trying to catch himself. He hits the floor hard. "Eddie, I-I have no idea what you're talking about." He uses his hands to push himself backwards, scraping his palms on asphalt as Eddie keeps walking towards him. Asphalt? Where am I now? Eddie grabs the front of his shirt, lifting him up. "I need you. I need you to understand." Eddie's voice breaks. His hands find Buck's. "I need you to wake up. You can't die. You hear me? Chris needs you, hell, we all need you. Wake up. Please."

Buck pulls away from his grip. He walks backwards slowly. "You're not making any sense, Eds. I'm here." Buildings start to take shape in the void, and they look incredibly familiar. Buck hits something solid. Metal, feels like. Eddie starts to change before his eyes. His hair grows longer, the bags under his eyes fade, he stands straighter. Buck turns away from Eddie as the sun shines bright in his eyes. “Wake up, Buck. I need you.” A second, unseen person interrupts.

“Diaz, you wanna ride with the kid to the hospital?”

The pieces start to fall into place. He knows what's coming. But still, he tries to stop it. “No. No- Eddie, move-!” Eddie makes eye contact with Buck as he speaks. “Yeah, that'd be gre-” “No!” A shot rings out just as Buck shoves Eddie out of the way. The bullet hits him anyway, tearing a hole through Eddie's chest and Buck's shoulder. Both scream in pain.

They don't hit the floor like Buck expected them too. They hit something soft. Buck sits up, realizing with horror that they're back in the hospital room from earlier, on the gurney. His shoulder stops hurting. 

“Two firefighters shot! Not much is known at this time, but one of them has so much to live for, and the other keeps failing to fix things and can't save the people he loves! How sad! I'm Taylor Kelly, signing off!” “Clear!”

Electricity burns through him, and he screams.

Memories flood his brain, memories of the shooting, the well collapse, the tsunami. Eddie bleeds under him. His blood pools onto the floor. Buck sees the rain, remembers the way he felt when he was hanging like a rag-doll. Remembers Eddie futilely trying to pull his dead body back up to the ladder. He sobs. Hands pull at him, yanking him off of the gurney, off and away from Eddie. Connor packs gauze into Eddie's wound.

“No!” Buck screams, fighting against the people separating him from Eddie. I can't let him die. Just as he breaks free, Eddie gasps, sitting up in the gurney. “Buck? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” He asks. Buck shakes his head. “Eddie- Eddie, listen-” He takes a step forward, and water begins to rise. It flows quickly.

By the time Buck reaches the gurney, the water is up to his chest.

Eddie sits on the gurney, watching Buck come closer. “That's a lot of water,” he remarks. Buck glares up at him. “Oh, really? Is it?” Out of the corner of his eye, Buck swears he sees a small body floating toward him, wearing the same clothes Chris had on at the pier. He ignores it. It's not real. It's not real. It's not- “Buck!”

Buck spins. That's Chris's voice. That's him! He needs help! “Chris?! Christopher?! Where are you?” He's treading water already, one hand gripping the gurney to anchor himself. The blood on his shirt drains into the water, coloring it red. Eddie leans forward, his mouth close to Buck's ear.

[theoceanoasis]

Hot rod & soundwave in the middle of battle with soundwave finding hot rod heavy and full of sparklings.

He was what the autobots were trying to keep hidden, him and the few other bots carrying.

Soundwave made sure to relay visual feed to Megatron before taking Hot rod for himself at Megatrons call for a retreat.

Now that they knew autobots had carrying bots Megatron could lift the law of no carrying. He only placed it because autobots would offline carrying decepticons in efforts to keep their numbers low.

With an even playing field, he could allow his soldiers to breed to their sparks content and what better way to reward his communications officer than to allow him to have the bot he wants most of all?

Soundwave overriding the other mechs cna

Recently he'd discovered the Autobots secret base. He thought it was filled with secret weapons and important supplies. Which is why the Decepticons needed to destroy it. Because of the weapons they couldn't just bomb it. Instead they needed to take over the base and take control of those weapons so they could be used for their cause.

The plan had been going perfectly. They were inside the building taking out the last few Autobots who were defending a room with their lives. He'd never seen them fight so viciously until then and it made him wonder what was inside. Taking down the last Autobot, he opened the door and froze. Instead of weapons they found people.

It was a horrible sight. They were chained and obviously carrying. Left in the cold dark where they must have been freezing. However that wasn't the worst part. It was the energon spilled. He looked around in disgust. The Autobots had killed them. All of them were dead, with their bodies covered in holes.

"What now?"

Someone nearby asked and he didn't know what to say. Not at first, he was still in shock. He knew the Autobots had no problem killing carrying bots. They'd killed many Decepticons who'd been carrying, but this was disgusting. They'd obviously been using them for breeding purposes. Forcing them to have sparklings with their captors.

"I don't trust the Autobots with their bodies who knows what they will do."

Around him his fellow Decepticons nodded and walked inside. He followed them picking up the dead and taking them out.

Scanning the bodies he froze in shock recognizing one of the faces. It was a rebel from Nyon named Hot Rod. They'd occasionally hook up when he was given missions there by Ratbat. He never knew he was a carrier. Then again that's not something you'd want to advertise especially nowadays.

He looked him over. Noticing he didn't have a sparkling bump. He didn't know if that was from starvation of if the sparkling wasn't very far along. Not that it mattered now.

He went to pick him up. Wanting to honor his friend with a proper funeral. Only to gasp when instead of touching cold lifeless metal it was warm.

"I think I've got a live one."

He looked Hot Rod over moving the bodies of his fellow carriers out of the way and scanning him for injuries.

A medic appeared next to him and scanned him.

"He's alive. Let's get him out of here."

He nodded, scooping up Hot Rod he went back to the ship. Going to the medbay Hot Rod woke up looking around in confusion and adjusting to all the light.

"Where?"

When Hot Rod noticed him his optics widened.

"Soundwave."

"I'm here. I've got you."

"Where an I?"

"you're on my ship I'm taking you to the medbay."

"My sparkling."

Hot Rod put a hand on his belly.

"How far along are you?"

"Three weeks. Is my sparkling okay?"

"We'll do everything we can."

Hot Rod nodded and then asked.

"Will you stay with me?"

"Of course."

Later Hot Rod wiped the tears from his face looking distraught.

"I can't believe they are all dead. How could the Autobots be so cruel?"

He put his hand on Hot Rods trying to comfort him. Which helped a little.

"You've been through a lot. Why don't you get some rest?"

Hot Rod nodded even though he couldn't sleep. Noticing Hot Rod was lost in thought he asked.

"What are you thinking about?"

"What I'm going to do about this sparkling. I want to keep it, but I'm scared it will look like my attacker. I don't want them to be my sparklings sire."

Hot Rod looked at him in distress and he found himself blurting out.

"I'll be the sire. It's still early and the sparkling will need donations anyway. I can override their coding. If that's what you want, of course I know you've been through a lot."

"I would love that. If anyone would be a good sire it would be you."

They both smiled at each other. Hot Rod putting a hand on his belly.

Later he went to Megatron and showed him everything he found. He'd been angry and disgusted.

"Of course they would stoop so low."

"I wouldn't be surprised if there were more."

Megatron sighed looking tired.

"I need to get rid of the ban preventing people from carrying. I thought it would save our people but now I realize it's only harming us. The Autobots are kidnapping carriers sparked or not and if we do free them. They won't be able to join the Decepticons and receive the benefits they and their new spark need."

Megatron glanced at him and asked.

"What are your intentions with the carrying mech you found?"

"His name is Hot Rod and I knew him before the war."

Megatron gave him a surprised look motioning for him to continue.

"He's asked me to override his attackers CNA."

"Do you plan to?"

"Yes. I will care for Hot Rod and his sparkling if you would allow me."

Megatron put a hand on his shoulder and looked into his optics.

"Soundwave my most loyal soldier and closest friend. I will allow you to have Hot Rod because I can already see how happy he makes you and I know you will take care of him and his sparkling."

He nodded already drawing up plans for a nursery. Megatron smiled at his friend. Happy he found someone.

"I'll let you get back to him. I know carrier's don't like to be far from their sires."

He nodded and went to find Hot Rod where he shared the good news and Hot Rod asked to sleep with him. He'd been surprised and asked if he was ready. Which Hot Rod said yes.

The two of them made love all night. Soundwave worshipping Hot Rod and making him feel loved. By the end Soundwaves CNA easily overrided the other sires. Meaning the sparkling was his and when they were born they looked exactly like Soundwave.

[phantoms-lair]

FNAF Conan thing Part 1

Take the basic premise of Security Breech. Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaplex opens up. People start going missing. Add two addendums. 1) This takes place in Beika and 2) the Pizzaplex is smaller, with only one star animatronic, Freddy. The Shounen Tantei get involved when a classmate hires them to look into the disappearance of a friend who was going to sneak into the Pizzaplex. The kids go to investigate and are quickly distracted by the Pizzaplex itself. Conan digs enough to find out there is something very wrong here. He calls Agasa to pick up the kids, but asks him to have something in the car that would take up an entire seat - an excuse for the kids to leave without him, on the understanding that Agasa will pick him up after they're dropped off. That is very much not the plan. Conan starts sneaking around, and while in the maintenance room, hides in Freddy's stomach hatch. This leads to him meeting Freddy the same way Gregory does in the game. Freddy agrees to help him, and together they discover the owner of this particular franchise is dressing up like a rabbit mascot to kidnap children who either enter unattended or to lure children inside for him to take. And along the way Conan realizes Freddy's too...aware to be just a robot. When he has an existential crisis about identity from seeing some endo skeletons Conan comes to the conclusion that Freddy is basically an awakened AI who hasn't quite realized that fact.

They find the children still alive, but in rough shape. Freddy is in the process of freeing them when he hears someone coming. He instinctively shoves Conan inside his cake storage unit. It's the owner. Freddy confronts him about the children and the condition they were in. The manager states that 'their suffering was ripe enough to be harvested' and tries to shut Freddy down. Freddy resists, knocking him out. Freddy and Conan get the kids out of there and call the police. Conan asks what will happen to Freddy and Freddy says if he's not taken in as evidence he will probably have his memory wiped and installed at a different location. And at this point Conan can't let that happen. As an emergent AI he's aware. And letting him get wiped feels like killing him. Freddy points out that without the Fazbear recharge stations he'll run out of power, but Conan says that it's okay - he knows a guy. Conan convinces the other kids involved to hide that Freddy was there so he won't get taken away, Knowing Freddy saved then, they eagerly agree. Police and medical crews come to pick up the kids. But when the police try to enter the Pizzaplex it explodes. No one was hurt, aside from the owner still inside. Agasa is used to Shinichi pulling shenanigans on him, but trying to hide and retrofit a theme restaurant animatronic is a bit of an odd task, even for him. But as he talks with Freddy he, like Conan, realizes the animatronic is truly sapient. He can easily fix the power source issue, but not so much making it so Freddy can walk around in public. But it's okay - he knows a guy. A little while later the Mouri's are introduced to Conan's father - Edogawa Fred. Fred is much taller and more built than and average person. But because they're not springing this on Conan it goes a lot better than Fumiyo's introduction - with Conan actually recognizing his 'father' and being happy to see him. (Unplanned for, but this starts a train of thought about how Conan acts around each of his parents, it's a marked difference) Fred explains to Kogoro that the reason he hasn't been around was two fold. The first was that he was a lot more injured in the accident than Fumiyo and required more surgery and physical therapy and the second was at the time of the accident he and Fumiyo had been at the start of a very bitter divorce, and had made the joint decision to leave Conan where he was safe and wouldn't have to witness it or worry about being caught in the middle. ((This actually wins Kogoro over. He saw what the separation between him and his wife did to Ran, and can't blame this man for trying to spare his son that.) So Edogawa Fred (or Fredogawa as he becomes known) stays around. He gets a job as a performer and manages to afford a small apartment for himself. Conan still stays with the Mouri's but Fred is playing the role of Dad to a hilt and makes sure he's always available to Conan, sometimes picking him up at school or taking him and the other kids on outings. Now the Kudo's were informed someone needed a new identity and would be playing the role of Conan's father. That's fine. What they didn't expect was the person to stick around and act like a father any more than Fumiyo acted like a mother. So now they're curious and want to meet this person. They arrange a flight for the two (private to get around the passport issue) but the plane encounters problems and has to land in California. It's going to take a few days to repair, so Conan and Freddy decide to find something to occupy their time. It turns out this town has it's very own PizzaPlex, with an even bigger cast. So why not check it out? Freddy is curious about what his life would have been like if his manager had not been an insane killer. And really, it's not like such a thing could happen twice?

[azaleassence]

𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 ✓

❁ ― ship: shoto t. x reader

❁ ― warnings: death

❁ ― mha masterlist. main masterlist

❁ ― inspired by this tiktok video

There's a Roman god of love, desire and attraction, it's name is Cupid.

For some, they tend to believe that Cupid is the reason why someone falls in love.

Cupid shoots two people with their arrows, making them fall in love, it's like playing a game of matchmaker.

But sometimes, Cupid runs out of arrows so they shoot one person instead of two;

That person just so happens to be you.

Ever since you were introduced to him, you fell in love almost instantly, like Cupid was following you around; waiting for you to find your match.

It surely was just a small crush you developed as a kid, it would most certainly be gone by the time you're older, right?

No. No it wasn't.

When you both finished middle school, you asked his sister on what highschool he'll go to.

When you learned that he was going to one of the most prestigious highschool in Japan, you almost lost your hope in attending, but for him; you were willing to do anything.

Day after day after day, you trained and trained continuously, always coming home tired.

But it all paid off when you received the welcoming letter by UA, you were happy that you got in, but you were so joyous when you learned that you both will be in the same class.

The first half of your first year was chaotic, a student got kidnapped, you encountered almost over 50 villains, and you faced at least 2 almost-death experiences.

During that half of the school year, you tried so deparately hard to become closer to Shoto, but after time, you didn't make much progress.

But your new classmates did.

They became incredibly close to Shoto in a span of 5 months while busted your ass to become close to him for the 10 whole years.

But you continued to persevere, you didn't want to give up so easily.

But time has a funny way of being moody.

You laid on the ground, bloody and wounded. If you were to see yourself-- you wouldn't be able to recognize your own self.

You were crushed in debris, how did you get there?

At the fight with Tomura Shigaraki, everybody gave their all to become support and help to the pro heroes, you did your best as well, but it wasn't enough.

You couldn't scream for help, you couldn't use your quirk, all you could do was lay there, hoping and waiting for someone to find you.

And eventually someone did.

Shoto.

When he found you, you were already struggling to keep your eyes open, the sight in front of him almost terrified him; why?

With the help of your other classmates, you were brought out of the debris and to the open. Shoto was carrying you so delicately, afraid that if there would be any pressure applied to your body; you'd break.

All your other classmates had run off, looking for the nearest medic while Shoto was left with you.

"Hey, keep your eyes open-- don't close them."

You nodded, feeling happy that his face might be the last one you'll see, but at least it was his'.

"You should go, Shoto." Your voice was raspy and it almost hurts whenever you speak, but you didn't mind as long as you talked to him, right?

Shoto looked at you as if you were crazy, he was certain that he won't leave you there alone.

"No, I'll stay here until the medics arrive." He assures you.

Your heart warms as you smiled up at him.

"I'm so proud of you, you know that?"

He stared at you, confused to what was your point.

"Before, you used to push everyone away when they got too close to you; now, you have so many friends." You continued. "So it wouldn't matter if I go now, wouldn't it?"

His eyes almost widened in disbelief, are you actually--

"I don't have enough time, Shoto. No matter how many times the medics try to heal me; it won't be enough." You told him, Shoto felt this stinging pain in his eyes, was he... crying?

Your eyes softened as you saw his eyes watering.

"Don't cry, I don't want to go with you crying as my last memory." You smiled, trying to keep yourself from crying as well. "I'm glad you got to find friends to comfort and be with you during your happiest times, and I'm grateful to be your friend as well."

He wiped his teary eyes with his shoulder to keep holding to you.

"But for me, you weren't just a friend." You statement caught him off-- no, this couldn't be happening now. "You're someone I look up to, someone I admire, and someone I wish I confessed to sooner."

His arms trembled, it was happening, and it was happening now.

"I love you Shoto and I'm thankful that you came into my life, because with you: I experienced the most happiest moments in life--"

"No, no, stop it. Don't say those words, the medics are coming and they'll save you, I know they will!" He shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks.

You reached up your hand to his cheeks and wiped his tears, smiling as you felt yourself getting teary-eyed as well.

"I love you, Shoto." You say with your last breath as your hand falls to the side of your body, Shoto sucked in a quick breath, his arms were trembling as he brought your body closer to him, giving you the sweetest hug, wishing that he would've done that a long time ago.

When your classmates came back with the medics, they halted their footsteps, seeing Shoto hugging your lifeless body, they knew that they were too late.

"I love you too..." Shoto mumbled so that only the two of you could hear it.

All left to wonder was, why did it took so long for Cupid to find you again and finally shoot their other arrow to your match when your arrow had already broke.

[snezfics-n-shit]

Sicktember Day 8: “The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!”

Fandom: Ace Attorney Characters: Franziska von Karma, Maya Fey

Notes: In which I dip my toes into writing Franmaya. Squeezed tightly between post-3-5 and the beginning of the 7-year gap. Neither Franziska nor Maya have been in a relationship before, and Maya’s a little bit stressed out about whether or not she’s making a good first impression in terms of dating as a whole after Franziska falls ill during her first time staying the night at Fey Manor. Kurain is pretty far away from a lot of important places, including medical clinics. Also this fic goes out to the person way back in 2020 who asked for franmaya during Whumptober so whoever you are, I hope I did a good job.

---

     Whoever had coined the phrase “middle of nowhere” had to have been struck by inspiration as they set foot in Kurain Village. The location fit it perfectly! In fact, it fit so well that Maya actually felt pretty ashamed that she never realized such a fact about her hometown until just recently.

It wasn’t like she grew up under the assumption that the village was just a hop, skip, and a jump away from the biggest, hustling, bustling city out there. That wasn’t it at all! She knew how far away places of interest were from Kurain. After all, when her sister first introduced her to her favorite burger joint, Maya spent the rides to both the destination and back home sleeping against Mia’s shoulder long enough for Mia to softly complain that her arm was falling asleep. You don’t make memories like that when you’re anywhere close to civilization. 

What brought this realization about was the entirety of this weekend, which, so far, was the picture anyone could find by looking up the word “disaster” in the dictionary. 

Maya had recently gotten herself a girlfriend! No, that wasn’t the disaster part, and that part didn’t happen this weekend. Her relationship with Franziska von Karma, her first relationship ever, began a month ago. 

It was actually really sweet how the prosecutor asked her out back then. Maya initially thought it was some kind of peace treaty for trying to put her in jail two years ago, but it became pretty clear when Franziska held her hand all the way from the movie theater to an honest-to-god limousine that escorted her home that she wanted to become a thing with her. 

Maya felt herself cringing at the possibility she may have been mistaken before her memory reassured her with the time Franziska said “my girlfriend” when introducing Maya to one of her colleagues. She sighed in a brief moment of relief before the heat she felt on her lap reminded her of the situation at hand. 

Franziska, ever the perfectionist, had gone out of her way to recognize the first night spent with Maya as a valuable milestone. She must have remembered Maya talking about Mia’s stories about Mr. Armando coming over to spend the night. It was actually a little disappointing that Aunt Morgan wasn’t here to shoot dirty looks that surely Franziska would flawlessly deflect with her, um, something… somehow. 

Maya didn’t actually know that much about Franziska to be able to properly imagine her in situations previously faced by someone she also didn’t know very much about, but wasn’t that what going steady was for? Getting to know the other person more? 

Details of hypothetical situations aside, Franziska’s efforts came with sleepless nights of planning, more specifically, long sleepless nights of planning. Those long sleepless nights were evident by the dark circles under her eyes that Maya couldn’t help staring at when she greeted her. The dark circles should’ve been the first sign that maybe the weekend spent at Kurain Manor was probably best postponed to a later date, one where both girlfriends had a full, refreshing, good night’s sleep. 

Of course, Franziska wouldn’t have listened to that kind of idea. She was perfect, after all; at least that’s what she wanted people to think. Maya liked that about dating Franziska, getting to see all the imperfections she either hid or had no opening to show when facing Nick in court. 

The way she would stop dead in her tracks at the mall whenever she saw a store with those expensive little animal dolls on display and she could be heard taking inventory of the sets she already owned, not paying any attention to the crowd trying to navigate around her. The time she dug into a nearly impossibly tall parfait and ended up wearing half the chocolate syrup on her face. Of course, Maya couldn’t possibly forget Franziska's impassioned rants about sad movies about dogs that managed to scare away passersby within earshot.

… Crap, if Franziska had shown all these sides of herself, she probably would have listened to Maya after all! 

So here Maya was, keeping watch over her girlfriend she could have easily stopped from running herself ragged, her girlfriend who now clearly had a fever that was probably the most preventable fever in the history of fevers. 

Maya couldn’t help but groan in shame. What a horrible first impression she must be making! This was Franziska’s first relationship, too, if Maya remembered correctly. 

“Mmb?” 

Franziska was awake! 

“Hey!” Maya greeted before quickly lowering her voice. “I mean, good morning. You feeling okay?” 

“I ab…” Franziska snorted deeply, “I ab fide.” 

“Are… you sure?” Maya bit her lip. 

What kind of stupid question was that? Franziska was clearly not fine! But… she said she was, so that probably meant Maya’s initial idea that Franziska probably would have declined any offer of a change in plans out of concern for her well-being wasn’t too out there. Why was this so hard to figure out?

“Yes.” Franziska said curtly as she sat up. She briefly held her hand to her head, looking disoriented. “The air pressure, however, is… awfully heavy here, dod’t you thidk?” 

“Not really, but, I mean, I’ve lived here since, well… forever.” 

“That’s true.” Franziska acknowledged. She quickly ducked under the extra blanket Maya had placed on her futon, presumably to cough, and it was a real nasty cough at that.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Maya laughed nervously, hoping she didn’t just strike a chord she hadn’t yet learned was there. 

“You’re likely bistakehd.” Franziska’s voice was muffled by the blanket, leaving Maya unsure if that was what made her sound worse or her voice was actually giving out. 

It was actually pretty cute, just how bad she was at pretending to be well. This managed to help Maya feel a little more comfortable in being assertive. 

“Come on, it’s not going to kill you to admit you’re not feeling well.” Maya pulled the blanket off of Franziska, trying not to snicker when she caught her attempting to discreetly wipe her nose on the futon. It was definitely not something she would have imagined Franziska to do, but she had been there once before, there’s no shame in it - futons are pretty easy to wash, anyway. 

“I dever said it would.” 

Maya sighed heavily and grabbed a nearby tissue box to hand to Franziska. If Franziska was going to be stubborn, she ought to be comprehensible at least. She seemed to take the hint, too, since she quickly blew her nose while turned away and hunched over in a position Maya didn’t think was possible without years of the endurance training mediums must endure. 

“Is it, I don’t know, your dad or something? Did he punish you for getting sick? Not being perfect or whatever.” 

Aunt Morgan would have an even more sour expression whenever Maya was sick, so maybe Manfred von Karma was similar? 

“What?” Franziska’s German accent came out there, with that adorable signature “v” sound. 

“You know, your dad? Where half your DNA comes from?” Maya paused. “The guy who tased me?”

“I know who Papa is.” Franziska could have said that as sharply as a crack of her whip, but she sounded more confused than offended. “Why would he punish me for such a foolish reason? Are you trying to tell a joke?” 

“Y-Yeah! A joke!” Maya forced a laugh, but she was even less convincing than Franziska was about her condition. 

“This is making no sense…” Franziska shook her head. “Perhaps I do have a fever…”

Well, all it took was an excruciatingly humiliating faux pas to get the truth to come out. Nick’s methods for such a thing were way better than that. 

Maya watched anxiously as Franziska stood up unsteadily. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting, then?”

“I will.” Franziska assured. “Just after I pay a visit to a physician and acquire any prescriptions needed to get this over with quickly.” 

Aw! Did she trust Maya enough to let her guard down and take initiative to see a doctor in front of her? Mr. Edgeworth said she had to be dragged to the emergency room when she had a bullet in her shoulder. Imagine that! Just a month together and Maya was already ranking above Franziska’s own big… or as she called him, little brother. 

Maya found herself so caught up in what appeared to be a major display of trust and vulnerability that she completely forgot one problem: Kurain Village didn’t have any doctors! 

“Yeah, about that…” Maya pressed her hand to her chin. “The closest doctor is probably hours away from here.”

“Does your village not even have an independent clinic?” 

“Huh?” Maya tilted her head. “I mean, there was someone who tried a couple years ago. He was a doctor from the city and married a woman who lives a couple houses away from here. Not a lot of people here trusted him here, though, especially the elderly. I guess he gave up pretty quickly, since he left one night and never came back.”

“What a fool.” Franziska huffed. Despite the air mostly expelling from her mouth, her nose started running as soon as she did so. “To leave a family and community in need all because of a dent in his foolish pride.” She muttered behind her right hand, aggressively trying to tame the flow before finally remembering there were more tissues available, which she then quickly made use of. 

“I mean, it probably doesn’t feel very good to be somewhere that feels like nobody wants you around.” 

“I am aware of that fact. I’ve been in that situation as well.” Franziska crossed her arms, squeezing and releasing her upper arm with her hand. “What’s done is done, though, I suppose.” 

“Hm, well,” Maya glanced in the direction of the hall leading to the kitchen, “it’s not a prescription from a professional doctor, but I think I can set you up with something that can clear up that cold pretty fast.”

“Tea?” Franziska guessed, sounding actually pretty excited at the thought of being treated to the hot beverage. 

“Nope, but I can get you some of that, too, if you want.”

“Oh, yes, please.” Franziska quietly blew her nose again as she accepted the offer. “So, what is it, then?”

“Negi!” Maya cheerily answered. “I hope you don’t mind having things wrapped around your neck.” 

“T-That sounds…” 

Before Franziska could find the word to describe how she felt about having this “negi” wrapped around her neck, Maya was already out retrieving it. 

It wasn’t so bad, after all, being in the “middle of nowhere” if it meant more times like this. 

[stuckinuniformdevelopment]

@soldiersam

(Previous) Autumn’s smirk lost its smug tinge and turned into more of a weary grin. Should she give a sarcastic nonanswer or be genuine from once in her life? They continued walking quietly as if they were thinking of their answer, and when the two reached the vestry door, she paused to say, “In a place as unpredictable as our dear Glornch… I find it’s a necessity to be as aware as possible of the going-ons between my fellow believers.” She briefly freed a hand to open the door and pushed through. “It offers at least a small feeling of being in control.” Seeing as Gloria still hadn’t quite made it to the vestry, Autumn walked out to meet her. “Whew! So! It seems someone broke poor ol’ Theodore’s arm here. More specifically by the looks of it, dislocated it. I couldn’t catch who.”

“...Eh?” Theodore tilted his head as anger gave way to confusion.

How did that line up with Autumn's indifference about getting the truth out of him? There was nothing to glean from watching his arm get put back into place.

By the time Autumn returned to the sanctuary Gloria had just pushed herself to clear the last step. Now she was resting her hands on her knees as she worked on catching her breath. When she heard the door she straightened up and headed up to meet Autumn in the middle.

Once Gloria recognized who Autumn was holding she let out a gasp. Sure, Theodore was an annoying smartass. Even Gloria gave him a wack with her cane on occasion. Yet he was a coward who knew when to submit to avoid serious injuries. Even when others shoved him around simply for the hell of it.

“Awww, who would do that to our poor little teddy bear?”

Said “little” teddy bear flipped her off.

Gloria shook her head. “Tsktsktsk... And he's acting as childish as always...” Then she bent down to get to eye level with him. “Did you slam the door because you were scared of going to the doctor's?”

Theodore rolled his eye at her stupid infantilizing act. “One: You're not a doctor. Two: I'm scared of you fucking it up.”

Gloria did it right back as she straightened up and put her hands on her hips.

“Well then! Is that any way to treat people trying to help you?”

Theodore bitterly laughed. “Help? Do you mean... drugging me and keeping me from actual medical professi-”

Gloria covered her mouth with her robe as she threw gallum root powder in Teddy's face. She was not in the mood to hear about how the old ways were obsolete for a reason again. Or about how she was a shady piece of shit he wouldn't even trust with a minor cut.

Then once Teddy had stopped fighting to stay awake Gloria smiled at Autumn. “Could you please be a dear and bring him to my bedroom?”

She offered her the key. “I'll be right behind you~!” Then she averted her eye, turned around to start her own journey, and muttered, “...Dealing with all these damn stairs.”

[intersexprophet]

Comatose [2/?]

<- Prev | Next ->

Rating: T Pairings: Dabi/Twice Tags: alcohol use/abuse, past mentions of child abuse, civilian LoV, mental health issues, medical jargon

It's the mere pitter-patter of rain against the window that initially draws him out of sleep. The television has automatically shut off and, save for the street light outside, it's dark. He floats in limbo, between dream and reality, where they mix. He hears the rain and dreams of the night he and Dabi got stuck in a downpour, unable to hear anything but the million splashes of water against concrete and Dabi's mix of cursing and a little laugh.

He dreams of Dabi overturning his boots inside and water racing across the floorboards. Of being sore, after running blind and smacking his face into a pole and landing ass first onto the wet sidewalk.

Of Dabi running a towel along his back and legs when he aches too much to bother trying. Of dry clothes and coffee right before bed and warm blankets. Of his best friend lying under his sheets with a little snore.

So his brain can't make sense of the knock on his door. It rips him entirely from a long forgotten dream, back to a reality where Dabi's gone. Vanished. Like a flame snuffed out. Like a ghost, there one moment and gone the next. Calls unanswered, voicemail unavailable. Then finally disconnected.

Radio silence.

Stupidly, he dreams of the past. He dreams of old memories, and memories never made, and the new life Dabi's living, and his grave, and sometimes his. His corpse. Shoved into the corner of some alley where rats gnaw at his blue fingertips. Renamed John Doe and file tossed into a drawer that's too full to close.

For over a year now, he's walked the streets after work. Burning through cigarettes, he wanders the city for hours until he eventually meanders back home, lost until he recognizes street names. He comes home, if you can call it that. Sometimes he forgets to grab a bite before passing out till morning, and sometimes he replaces mealtime with just a quick drink to help him sleep. So he doesn't wake up in the middle of the night, confused when he can't find his friend sleeping next to him.

His eyes flutter when a second knock hits the door. Groggy, he rubs his face and can just barely make out the bowl that Toga handed him earlier that night, nary a bite taken. He'd meant to eat some, honest. But the exhaustion weighing him down won instead. He won't risk it now. Seafood's too finicky to take a chance.

She and Giri, along with Atsuhiro and Mag, have been handing him their leftovers. And while he appreciates it, he really wish they wouldn't. Can't stand the look in their eyes. Wishes he could get them to look elsewhere. He knows what he looks like. He doesn't need reminders.

The door shakes with the third knock. He's fully awake now, and acutely aware that there's someone at his door in the dead of night. What's worse is that, despite his excellent memory, this is one knock he can't put a name to.

Slowly he rises from the couch and makes his way to the door. He's lived a life on the streets, and he's none too keen to open his apartment to an attack. He grabs the baseball bat slumped against the side table just as his late night guest knocks a fourth time.

He unlocks and unlatches the door, then gives it a light tug so it swings open, him far enough in that he can't be so easily jumped. But even with his eyes adjusted to the dark, he can't make out a figure.

He starts to think he might be losing his mind when a rough voice calls from the dark, "You gonna invite me in or what?"

It's a voice unknown and so familiar at the same time. He loses his breath, and now he can't stop how quickly the air rushes in and out of his lungs. Cautiously, he pokes his head out of the door.

Sure enough, slumped against the wall, he can make out a person. His mind is reeling, trying to fit in the sound of this voice with the nightmare he's been living this past year. He knows every knock of his friends, taps his fingers to the rhythm when he's standing idle or humming up a made up tune. But there's one friend who never bothered knocking to begin with, always barging in whenever he showed up.

"Had me thinking," the dark figure says, "that I had the wrong place for a minute. Jackass."

"Dabi?"

"Who else?"

[sirspazingtonthefourth]

People Call Me Dingo: Chapter 3

CW: Emetophobia, Trypanophobia (Needles), Human Experimentation (not a lot of detail)

The ground was cold where her skin pressed against it. It had been a while since she'd felt the need to nap on the floor, but it was hot enough out that maybe she had just decided to lay down and cool off on the stone.

Except for the fact that her house didn't have stone floors.

Dingo cracked her eyes open, taking in the bars around her. She had a pounding headache, which only worsened as she remembered what had happened to her. Carrie, the bees, the sedative she'd been dosed with. Well, at least she wasn't dead, even if there was some kind of metal collar around her throat.

It looked like someone had emptied out an old warehouse and filled it with a bunch of medical supplies. She could see wheeled surgical lamps around the place, all turned off for the moment. Metal IV stands were pushed into a corner, and various cabinets were placed around the edge of the warehouse, alongside carts and hanging surgical sponge pouches. The pouches weren't just full of sponges, though. various tools like syringes, scalpels, hemostats, and the like were all stored in the pouches, and Dingo couldn't help but think that, of all the places and all the ways to store these tools, this had to be one of the least sanitary ones.

Then again, they'd plopped a cage into this place. Whoever the supplies belonged to probably didn't really care about their patients getting sepsis.

The real showstopper was the chair sitting in the middle of the warehouse. It was some mix between a dentist’s chair and a surgical table, with restraints for the ankles and wrists. She felt her gut turn as she actually processed all the things in the room.

A bunch of medical supplies. A table with restraints. A cage. And a quirkless test subject, just waiting for whatever was going to happen.

She was quick to stand and start checking over the cage. She didn't have any tools on her. She'd been at home, she hadn't expected to be attacked, let alone kidnapped, and even if she had been Carrie would have been an idiot not to check her for weapons. Her only hope was that there was a weak point in the bars that she could exploit. Maybe, if their structure was compromised enough, she could find a rock and break the bars?

Her desperate train of thought was cut off by the sound of a door opening across the warehouse, followed by a brief light from whatever was outside this place. She could hear footsteps, and the sound of humming bounced and echoed in the darkness as a short man came into view.

He was bald, with what would have been an impressive mustache if Dingo wasn't certain that this man wasn't about to drag her to that table and do God only knew what. His glasses reflected what little light there was in the darkened room, and his lab coat held a voice recorder and a few pens. He carried a clipboard under his arm, the writing something she didn't recognize. All she could say for certain was that it definitely wasn't in English.

The short man grabbed the voice recorder, speaking in a language that was also definitely not English, but it sounded a lot like the language she remembered Carrie speaking in. Maybe an international black market ring? She hoped not. She really liked having kidneys.

She settled back into a fighting stance, baring her teeth at the man as he went to open the door. By now, Bat had probably realized she was gone, and the Network would be out trying to track her down. She had at most a few hours before they would find her. She could be difficult until then.

At least, she thought she could.

The shock that went through her body was more than any tazer the cops had shot her with which, she reflected as she seized and collapsed onto the floor in pain, was an objectively odd thing to be able to tell. She could feel herself getting dragged out of the cell and towards the table, and if she hadn't still been seizing she would have tried to rip at the man's face. Instead, she was heaved like a ragdoll onto the table and strapped down.

The man wandered off towards one of the cabinets, pulling out some kind of liquid and retrieving a syringe from one of the many-pocketed sponge holders. Dingo was still shaky from her shock, but she could at least move now. As the man came closer, withdrawing liquid from its glass container, she struggled, shrieking and screaming, calling for help as he approached.

He said something she couldn't understand, leaning over her face as if it would get the point across. All it did was give her an opportunity to rear up and bite at his nose. He jerked back in time, a scowl appearing underneath his mustache, and he shoved the needle into her arm, injecting her with whatever was inside.

It burned, tearing through her veins until it reached her heart and then it tore through her arteries. She screamed, tears flowing down her cheeks as the pain enveloped her. It was worse than any beating she'd gotten, any broken bones she'd had. It felt like she was on fire. Several more injections followed, all equally painful. She was glad when she passed out.

She didn't know how long she spent in that place. All she knew was that it was a while. At least a few weeks, at most two months. But that was all she could really tell. The doctor, as she'd taken to calling him, would pull her out of her cell multiple times a day. At least, she thought it was multiple times a day. He would inject different things into her. Some of them hurt worse than others. Very few caused her to black out. She liked those ones more, at least they didn't hurt for as long.

When he was done, he'd throw her back into her cell, and she'd gladly fall asleep when she could. It was the only way she wasn't in pain.

One time a man had visited. He’d been horribly scarred on his face, the tissue covering where his eyes used to be, and he looked like it wouldn’t take much to put him out of commission.

But he’d radiated hate when he’d turned to look at her, and she was more than certain that, somehow, he could see her. She felt fixed to the floor as the doctor came closer, and it was the only time she didn’t fight. She didn’t even scream until the doctor had made his first injection.

Not long after that day, a man covered in hands began stopping by. He would speak with the doctor, maybe stick around to watch whatever experiments he was running this time, then leave. Occasionally, it would seem like the doctor told him something frustrating, and he would grab a tool and turn it to dust in his hand, like he had today.

He made certain it was right in front of the doctor's face when he did it, making a big show of placing all five of his fingers on whatever it was before it crumbled to ashes in his hand. It seemed a rough drawback to the quirk. The hand guy didn't wear gloves that she saw, so he had to always watch how he was holding things lest he destroy them on accident. She wondered how his parents had reacted to a quirk like his. Probably not well. And he seemed too angry and uncontrollable to have been a good fit for the Network, which was a shame.

Her thoughts about the hand guy's quirk were cut off as the doctor approached. She bared her teeth and snarled, even though she knew the shock was coming. She wasn't about to just let them take her to the table. Not without at least trying to put up a fight. Just as it had the other dozens of times she'd tried, she could do nothing as the collar shocked her, rendering her immobile for the short time it took the doctor to strap her down to the table.

The injections began again, her screams echoing through the warehouse as the doctor and the hand guy watched on. She didn't know how long it had been before the doctor stopped his injections and turned away, just that her vision was blurry and she felt like she was about to pass out. Her hands were flat on the table as the hand guy turned to walk towards where she assumed the front door was, and the doctor had his back to her, which was why neither noticed as the table under her hands began to crumble into dust.

Despite her fatigue, she turned her head as far down as she could with the shock collar. She wasn't imagining it. The table was gradually crumbling underneath her fingertips. The restraints snapped off of her and she allowed herself to crumple to the ground as she usually did, careful to keep her fists balled up. She didn't want them to find out what she had planned.

The doctor dragged her back to her cage, shutting it with a clang as she tried to fight off the pain induced sleep. She needed to stay awake. If she passed out now, she wouldn't wake up until the doctor decided to torture her again, and she was done with that if she could replicate what had happened at the table.

Once she heard the warehouse door shut she sat up, doing her best to ignore her dizziness and the nausea gripping her. She scooted over to the bars and, one by one, placed the five fingers of her right hand on the metal. Sure enough, it began to disintegrate just like the tools that hand guy had touched. She tried with her other hand and got the same result.

The bars were turning to dust gradually, but hand guy was able to make things disintegrate in seconds. She focused, trying to figure out how to use the man's quirk.

Wait a minute.

She was using a quirk.

She shook her head, instantly regretting it as she was made aware of a pounding headache. She withdrew her hands from the bars, emptying her already nearly empty stomach next to her on the concrete. She had left hand prints in the cement when she rose, courtesy of the new quirk. But she could deal with that later. For now, she went back to the bars, trying to focus on how to disintegrate them faster.

The bars still turned to dust under her fingers before she could figure it out, but she was able to crawl out of the cell. She stood slowly on shaky legs, hurrying as much as she could with her aching body towards the wall opposite the door the doctor and the hand guy used. She'd have to be an idiot to think this place didn't have cameras, and she needed to buy herself as much time as possible.

She put her hands on the wall, thankful that it started crumbling a little faster than the bars had. She reached for her desperation, praying that it was what was helping her quirk work better. The wall turned to dust a little bit faster still. She heard the click of the door, and the spike of fear that went through her at the sound was enough to strengthen her quirk momentarily, eating away a large chunk of the wall in moments, and she stumbled out into fresh air for the first time in what felt like forever.

She could hear voices behind her and she started to run, adrenaline lending her shaky legs some modicum of surety as she pushed herself to go further, faster. She needed to get away. She was loathe to go to the heroes or the cops, but this would have to be an exception. Whoever these people were had kept the Network off their trail for quite some time, which meant they had the kind of pull her people couldn't match, even if she wasn't too high up the ladder in the grand scheme of things.

She ran until her lungs ached, and kept going. Her legs felt like they were about to give out from under her, but she was still alone. If she stopped here, no one would hear her screaming for help. Her vision was tunneling, and her hands ached from how hard she was clenching them into fists, but none of that mattered when she saw the busy street ahead of her. She slowed down, fighting to keep down the bile in her stomach as she walked onto the street.

Masterlist

[gabapentinblues]

journal update 2.11.2025 tw; ed, sh, substances

woke up feeling okay, i woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back to sleep right away but eventually i did.

there was a new youtube video i was excited to watch so i got out of bed right away to watch it while i made a smoothie and drank coffee.

my piercings all seem to be bothering me so much rn, well at least my snug, which is swelling a lot and then bleeding and scabbing in my sleep which is awful, and my snake bites. the hoops are just too big, theres too much movement and rubbing and theyre irritated af. its annoying.

its also cold af outside, i could move more of my things inside but its honestly way too cold for me to want to do that ugh. i brought one thing inside when i went out to the garage to get a sparkling water.

decided im really restarting my efforts to lose weight. i looked in the mirror today and its like i barely recognize myself. i want to find comfort in starving again, not just bingeing. i swear ive been binge eating to purposely trigger myself and make myself more depressed its insane. i feel like demi moore in the substance, like i wake up and im like whyyyyy am i doing this to myself, just so angry. then of course that fuels the cycle for me to do it all again.

anyway i want to break that cycle. i want to lose weight. i want to put my room and my life back together, confront the things ive been avoiding, and stop feeling like im hiding from my own life. i dont have group therapy anymore, i need to get connected with another therapist and maybe a support group and just really try to do better for myself.

its just a matter of trying to show up every day. im still incredibly depressed, every effort feels immense but im trying to make the effort anyway. the difference is simply that between trying and not trying.

i took a shower, i ate some fresh fruit, now im having a sparkling water, i already know what i'll have for dinner, now i just need to decide what im going to allow myself for snacks, i want to be smart and realistic.

i went thru my blog and added a lot to my queue, looked back at old posts to try and motivate myself. 2021-22 was probably when i was most disordered, i wanna get back to that.

deciding what i want to do now, its really too cold to go anywhere or do anything that involves going outside. mayyyyyyybbbeeeeee i'll take a walk but probably not. i could gratitude journal, start a motivation/inspo journal for myself and write out some rules and goals and lists and mantras. i could work on my art. write to do lists for myself. stay on this stupid website lol. read fanfiction. there are some to do's i want to get to eventually.

take care of my medical bills, pick up my prescriptions, cash a check and get my bank account settled, get gas, buy myself olaplex shampoo and conditioner, pick up my last check from work and cash that too, reactivate my planet fitness membership and start going, make sure my address is updated for taxes and other important things. some of these things feel really time sensitive and they stress me out and make me wanna binge and sleep.

i want to organize my space and sell the things i dont want anymore online and i'll need to figure out the logistics of that.

it was four months ago today that i got diagnosed with bpd and i feel like im still processing that. i just feel so alone in it and i wish there were more people i could talk to.

think im gonna let myself have chips and salsa as a snack, and maybe something else, i feel like i'll want one other thing and i dont wanna binge so i'd rather allow myself to have something. i want my intentions and my actions to be in harmony.

kind of want to watch a scary movie, kind of want to talk to my friends, i wish i had somewhere to go or someone to see. instead im just alone getting high, i ate four pieces of mushroom chocolate, the last of what i had, and have been hitting my dab pen. i dont like to seem like all ive been doing is getting high all day though when everyone gets home.

idk i just feel so alone.

[magustiel]

I'm gonna give you a hint kids. They convince you to make a big intersection of all the things ever and then someone else takes it over from the initial represented minorities, who ultimately become scapegoats, while westerners argue in infinitydome circles after trying to include everything whether it's goddamn actually related or not.

Gender never should have been included in LGBTQ. T should have remained included as it was during days it was "okay" to say Transexual. The idea of letting people in with or without dysphoria is good but led to the stapling in of political sciences that were incompatible with neurosciences and other biological issues in authentic medical debate, until nothing made sense anymore. And I'm not even allowed to explain my goddamn dysphoria without a morality police coming in which is why people don't fucking explain it.

Gender should have been a separate, cousin, supported axis that we recognized the correlation with.

Instead as one of the few Okay Identity Types In The West, once we could incorporate Any Idea Felt Or Justified, then literally anything can be included, and nothing means anything, and now that 1% of the population is being utterly fucking drowned by someone's Therian identity making noise in the politics.

I can absolutely believe in gender as a social construct, but y'all motherfuckers refuse to acknowledge the social construct, you just. Say Things. But when it comes time for the political pendulum to swing back, someone's completely random abstract identity that impacts their life next to nothing-- they won't be bothered, but it will ALWAYS come back on the 1% culturally. The ones who would still get kicked in the dick by dysphoria if they got trapped in the appalachians for a month with no internet.

But now it's the only way people even know how to Find Identity here anymore so they triple down on it. And Identity is great y'all but. You do realize you have completely fucking over-written the initial demographic, right?

Fall back to, "The idea of letting people in with or without dysphoria is good but led to the stapling in of political sciences that were incompatible with neurosciences and other biological issues in authentic medical debate, until nothing made sense anymore."

Your answer then is, SMASH THE PATRIARCHY! THE PATRIARCHY HURTS EVERYONE! WE SHOULD BAND TOGETHER AND-

Okay but that doesn't fix my dysphoria. That doesn't fix medical problems. Your desire to smash the patriarchy should not be a default trans function of the original extremely marginalized identity you say you're here to support. Odds are they will align with you, but that shouldn't be an argument for gender's default correlation on a linear spectrum rather than an intersecting axis of relation. You put your Class Warfare and Political Science in my Sexuality And Neurosciences. Don't do that. It is definitionally you Politicizing a Smaller Demographic for your personal Social Engineered Purposes.

Like at some point someone's polsci paper about gender and patriarchy got plugged up the assholes of like 1% of the population that just has a really bad time with the way their brain livetime integrates to their experience, often in biologically impacting ways. And then the polsci literally justifies. Anyone ever. Coming into that playground. Based on whatever they feel. For political reasons. And then you genuinely pretend this isn't trampling the original 1%. Meanwhile I'm watching the "progressive" end of silicon valley start to argue that transgender support is transhumanism support or you're a hypocrite, so soon here, it's everybody get brainchips or you're a transphobe, and I'm not playing that game.

It's like political colonization. It reminds me of something a black woman once said, "fuck intersectionality, y'all say shit about intersectionality, but each and every time, each and every fucking time, at the middle of all the intersections somehow there's a white woman in the middle saying she representing us."

Look what just happened with the DEI fires in the government? Primarily white women, a mix of red and blue political alignments, red of course thinking they'd be immune. But fucking. Almost all white women. On god. Go to your company's DEI meetings. Like holy shit guys. Women can be oppressed and we can recognize that but this is one of those check your privileges fucking things.

But if you mandate a tie of SMASH THE PATRIARCHY social warfare politicization, now the fates of the others are tied to it on the world stage. The identity itself becomes warcries then inflamed by bots and extremism until themselves parodies. And round and round we go. Trans people should naturally support feminists but that doesn't mean they should be the mandated strong arm of feminism's political agendas, and it's like, two clades of feminism warring about it basically. That's what the polsci boils down to but I PROMISE the average trans person just wants to fucking e x i s t. They're not here to be a political crowbar because susan wants to smash the patriarchy. They just want to eat hot chip and exist bro. Leave us out of all that what the fuck now it's all fucked up.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

omg these are all so specific i feel like whichever one is wrong is only wrong in the details. i'm gonna guess the assembly one is the lie??

They are all super specific lol and you're right! More context for all the things I guess because they are super specific.

I was a girl scout before covid - I left because I tried to establish a boundary and they basically implied people like me (queer, disabled, thankful for Planned Parenthood helping my mom when she needed medical care the government refused to provide until we realized I was a high risk pregnancy) should be dead. It ended up for the best because I came out a trans a few years later and would have left anyways. I do still get really upset when I remember my top seller goal was stolen out from under me - I was actually only a few boxes short of a thousand but the cheater and her mom took over a hundred boxes, which was all there was left, to sell over the summer.

Number two, the lie! That one's super specific because while the entire story is falsified, almost every element in it is true! It's just cobbled together. My middle school did have weekly Monday assemblies, and every month they would have a choir kid sing the national anthem. I was a choir kid and I even tried out! However, I'm just a little too tone deaf and started way too high. By the time I realized, my voice couldn't hit the notes required to keep up the register, so I wasn't able to try out again. I was, however, Toto in an elementary school choir production of the Wizard of Oz (a point of pride for me, actually), and that's where the people coming up to me for months afterwards came from. From the day after the performance until I left that city, I had people coming up to me and recognizing me. So this was the lie, and I crammed two stories together for it. Mostly in the hopes of fooling someone and that, uh, didn't work lol

I needed to go into the hospital a lot when I was younger. I've got a genetic condition of some sort - the long and short of it is I'm extremely short and my bones are so fucked up that I'll never be drafted into the skeleton war (the true tragedy). I was really really young and so I saw pretty stuffed cat and my parents bought her for me. If anything, this story might be wrong because I can't find Raindrop anymore and I can't remember if I gave her to a friend who loved her. Otherwise I would show you a picture. It's not a delibrate lie, though. I really think it is true!

[ignemia]

The Rose Sky

The day of the Rose sky (22/05/1974) - Tale of Juliana Hatcher

Waking up at 7:30 am as usual, I head to the job I’ve held for years. My boss is a little nerdy but very cute, and we’ve never had a problem.

As a researcher of deep-sea microfauna, I work under the dean of our research facility. Today, new samples from the middle of the Mediterranean Sea arrived. Let's see if we find something more interesting than that boring mycelium from the Nordic Sea.

Looking into my microscope, something seems off. The sample isn’t lit properly even though the lamp is at full blast. What’s going on? I decide to turn on the main lab lighting. Shuffling to the switch, I check the clock—it’s already 10:21 am. I haven't even eaten breakfast yet. Well, I'll do that after I examine the new sample. I turn on the light and walk back to the table. It’s still a bit underlit, but at least I can see better. I spot something strange: the bacteria appear fully bioluminescent. In the visible spectrum? In the ultraviolet spectrum? What’s going on? No organism should do that. Did we discover a new type of defence mechanism? Why is this sample breaking established rules?

I need answers, but I need breakfast more. I write down my observations and head to the company-issued personal fridge for my Greek yoghurt. Checking the time, it’s already 11:15 am. Today is flying by. Well, interesting samples can't be blamed for enjoying my work so much. I take my yoghurt and sit at my writing table to check measurements from previous samples for similar abnormalities. Then I get an idea. Could the sample react to proteins with natural bioluminescence, like Vibrio fischeri? I place a teaspoon of my yoghurt onto a petri dish and finish my meal. Without washing the bowl, I quickly run to test the hypothesis.

First, I separate a small sample size. Next, I run the necessary tests to check for proteins in the water. The tests return positive, so I might be on the right track. With precision, I place about 1 gram of yoghurt onto another petri dish and pour the separated water from the sample in there. I turn to my journal to write down my observations. It’s 12:34, and as I start writing, a flash of blinding light surrounds me.

“Well, that was a bit too much bioluminescence,” I think, wiping my eyes. I’m temporarily blind. I stumble to the door, cautious not to destroy anything, and call for help. I hear someone outside screaming, “Aaaaaaaaaa, I can't see!” Thinking it’s my fault, I try to open the door to apologize and find help, but more screams fill the air. My experiment was too small to cause widespread blindness. Then I heard it: “Are you seeing this? Is it just me, or is the sky pink?”

I enter the hall and run toward the person who can see, trying not to stumble. A glimmer of light enters my eyes. It’s not the typical midday sun—it’s warmer, yet colder. How is that possible? Trying to make sense of the shade, I recognize the light from the sample. Could my experiment have caused this? How? I need answers.

As I head towards the voice, I remember I need to visit the medical room. But I realize a worrying thought: it will be full of people like me. Some will see a little, some fully, and some might still be blind. How many injuries occurred when we saw the flash of light? How harmed are people? My sight is slowly returning. I should go back to my lab and wait it out. I won’t see the pink sky the voice mentioned. From what I can see, the sky is probably the same shade of pink as the sample shined. Soon, I hope to see clearly again and remain motorically competent enough not to harm myself.

I'm slowly making my way back to my lab, thinking about everything that happened today. Is it a coincidence? Is it all related? How can it be? I reach my lab’s doorstep, open the door, and immediately faceplant onto the ground over the doorstep. How did I forget about it? Picking myself up, my hands slide in front of my chest to push myself onto my feet when suddenly—Ouch—I cut my ring finger on my right hand. An expletive escapes my mouth. I stand up, holding my ring finger closed to prevent bleeding everywhere. I have some napkins I can tie around the cut on my table. Today is either the best or the worst day of my life.

When I get back to the table, I blindly search for the napkins. Suddenly, the light entering my eyes changes. It’s fiery orange, and I feel like my desk is on fire. How could that be? I don’t work with fire on my writing desk. It must be my body overreacting to the cut. There hasn't been a fire in this lab for months, and I don’t even have scented candles like at home. I keep searching for napkins. Unfortunately—OUCH—my index finger is burnt. The fire is real. My desk is actually on fire. How is this happening? I close my index finger to my palm; the pain from the burn makes me forget about the cut for a split second. I try to whoosh the fire away. I cannot find the fire alarm in my office while I’m blind. I’m not even sure I have one here. I swipe my right hand, minus the burnt index finger, over the fire, trying to extinguish it.

GRSHCK I hear my window break, but the light in my eyes returns to pinkish-purple. The table is no longer on fire. I touch the spot where it was—there is no table. Did I somehow throw my table out the window? How could I do that? My hand was injured, and the table was made of wood, weighing around 50 kilograms. I can't lift that much, especially when it was on fire. But indeed, I did throw my desk out the window. I realize this when I hear from outside, "What is one of our expensive tables doing out in the park? And whose burnt research is this?" I know it’s mine, but I am too stunned to answer. I just threw a 50-kilogram table through a glass window without touching it.

My vision is slowly improving, and I’m trying to understand what has happened, what has been happening all day. A funny thought passes through my mind. “Magic is real, apparently.” I chuckle But then I give it serious thought. It’s the only reasonable explanation for the fire starting and, though not how I intended, being put out. So I try to pull my index finger back to my palm and extend all other fingers. I make a circular motion with my hand. This is a massive mistake. I feel the air around me starting to swirl into a loop, creating a sort of tornado. It’s getting stronger and stronger. I need to stop it. But how? I stop the motion of my hand, but the only thing that happens is that the tornado stops getting stronger. This is not good—all my samples must be destroyed, all my research lost. I do the only thing that comes to mind. Once again, I pull my index finger to my palm, stick out all other fingers, and make a circular motion in the opposite direction. The more I do it, the weaker the wind gets.

So in the end, it’s true. Magic is real. And I think I’ve found the next topic of my research.

[rediscoverhearing]

Hearing Near Me - A Directory of Audiologists and Hearing Instrument Specialists

Hearing Near Me is a comprehensive, online directory of audiologists and hearing instrument specialists across the United States. It allows consumers to search for a nearby clinic, learn about different types of hearing aids and read verified reviews from past clients.

The site also provides information on various ear conditions, like tinnitus and dizziness. It’s a good resource for anyone who is concerned about their own or a loved one’s hearing.

A hearing loss can range from mild, in which a person misses certain high-pitched sounds, to severe deafness that makes it impossible to hear at all. Sudden hearing loss is a medical emergency that should be treated as such. It can occur all at once or over the course of a few days and should be checked immediately by a doctor.

People with hearing loss are more likely to experience depression, anxiety and other mental health conditions, and they often face social isolation because it’s difficult to have conversations with others. It’s important to let people know if you’re having trouble hearing them and to try to find ways to communicate that work for both of you, such as speaking clearly and making eye contact.

There are several things you can do to help manage your hearing loss, including dietary changes and exercise, as well as using assistive devices, such as hearing aids. Hearing aids make sounds louder and can help you follow a conversation when someone is talking to you. They can be fitted at a hearing center or by your family doctor. If you have a severe or profound loss of hearing, a cochlear implant may be an option for you.

The National Institute on Aging explains that sound waves enter the ear through the auditory canal, hit the eardrum, and cause it to vibrate. The vibrations pass to three bones in the middle ear called the ossicles, which amplify them. The ossicles then transmit the sound to the inner ear, where tiny hair-like cells pick up the vibrations and turn them into signals that are recognized as sounds by your brain.

The site Healthy Hearing explains that it’s important to get your hearing tested regularly, and especially as you age. Seeing an audiologist can give you a more accurate assessment of your hearing and determine what needs to be done to correct it. Your family doctor or otolaryngologist (ear, nose and throat surgeon) can refer you to an audiologist if needed. You can also check your hearing for free on the internet or by downloading a smartphone app. The app will give you your Hearing Number, which is a measure of your overall hearing ability. It is recommended to use a device in both ears.

Rediscover Hearing the Joy of Hearing with Your local & WA owned Independent Audiologists. Your local Hearing Aid and Tinnitus Specialists. Combined experience of 38 years.

[gigismodernlife]

2023: Finally the End of the Covid Era; Surpassing the Aftermath

For me (and I’m sure many can relate) this year sure feels like reaching the end of a series of very overwhelming chapters in a book that put life into perspective but ultimately redeemed itself by giving the reader a glimpse of hope. I like the way Chad simplified it: “2020:covid 2021:covid 2022:covid ending 2023:covid aftermath, this year was weird, besides the Economy still sucking, 2024 should be a good year” The impact of the last four years was seriously hard on me, as it was for many others. After a lot of reflection, I can say that the best thing to come out of it for me was helping me open my eyes and see things clearly through my glass lenses lol. Some call it a Spiritual Awakening, an Epiphany, "finding yourself" or "Accepting God into your life" I've discovered that in its essence it is all very similar. To each their own, as long as whatever they believe in leads them to do good in the world. For me, I am mostly subscribing to Modern Christianity, the one that accepts all people, but I am also hungry for knowledge and still absorb other things too. Jay Shetty and Joe Dispenza have some great YouTube interviewers that people of my generation like. Anyway, the lyrics from Amazing Grace "I once, was lost, but now, i'm found, was blind, but now I see" have never rang more true. And, I cant forget to mention that I also met the true love of my life and got engaged. Look who's not dying alone after all lol! 

So, I had forgotten, but I wrote a Blog, I think it was at the end of 2020 called "Developing Depression During A Global Pandemic & Black Lives Matter Movement" I doubt anyone has ever read it but its there if anyone wants to read it. For those who arent familiar, depression can be situational or a chemical imbalance in the brain. Some people with depression experience it every few years, some completely overcome it, and others sadly never overcome it. Mine tends to be situational. Im assuming I get depressed because I am a highly sensitive, emotional and empathetic person. I realized all of this because I fell so deep into depression this last time that I became desperate enough to finally try medication, which I tend to avoid. It was a nightmare to say the least, I am personally better without medication, but I know it works for some people. The point is, I don't think I have a serious chemical imbalance, I just have trouble handling some hard situations that life has thrown at me, and based on my history, I have gotten much better at recognizing when I feel it and I can thankfully help myself out of it. This time though, I did'nt even remember how I had overcome depression in the past because from October of 2022 to about September of 2023 I was depressed AGAIN and much worse this time. If I would have gone back and read that blog I wrote, I really could have helped myself. I sincerely hate to say this, especially because I had already learned that money does not buy happiness, but the truth is, I messed up and I should've believed in myself more. My biggest fear was losing my income and having to go back home to San Diego after I worked so hard to branch out of there. I was so loyal to this job because I reached middle class financial independence working there but NONE OF THAT MATTERS! It's all a social construct. Middle class doesn't even mean much anymore these days, specifically in this economy (I'll write more about that another time). I should've quit my job so long ago, I tried, but the fear consumed me, as if it was worth the suffering, but it definitely was not. I mean, I ended up being affected by one of many mass lay offs across the country anyway, so I don't necessarily think I am a failure by any means, I learned a lot there, but it was definitely not the company for someone like me. That is life, and most people don't stick to one single job their entire life anymore. All of my worst fears ended up happening. I lost my job, I went back home to San Diego, which for me, holds some very bad memories. It didnt even end up being a bad thing, I ended up re-building my relationship with my family, I took a real estate course, I made memories with my nieces. It felt like God just helped me pick up my broken pieces and now I am whole again. I also set the right intention for my relationship and luckily now I have a Fiance and we are happier than ever in Oregon! I had been operating in constant fear and anxiety of becoming poor or homeless, I am so sorry to myself for doing that, I did not deserve that and neither did my cats. So basically, this year was about forgiving myself, TRULY forgiving myself. 

It's my first Christmas here in Oregon. Im sitting here in my pajamas, looking out the window at trees, surrounded by a cloudy sky, the temperature is in the high 40 degrees. I can't help but cry happy tears and reflect on life (I cry a lot, not just when I'm sad, but when im overwhelmingly happy too lol). My new boss called a few hours into the shift yesterday. No questions about performance, just a simple "Everyone go home! Spend Christmas Eve with your families" what a culture shock. At my old job, I hardly took days off. I asked to leave "on time" instead of staying later to make my flight to New Mexico at 8pm on Christmas Eve to be with family. I felt full of guilt and shame being asked about my performance, as if they needed to know whether or not I deserved to not stay later. I couldn't even enjoy it fully, because I was stressed that I did'nt do well enough. I am so glad those days are over. Today I really get to relax, and enjoy life. Everything is actually going to be okay.

What a whirl wind, this Covid Era was. The world was sick with Covid then the nice media outlets helped spread the encouragement of thanking your “Essential Workers” but really, a lot of the big companies approached it wrong and many of these workers mental health started to deteriorate from being overworked. Followed by consistent mass layoffs, even when profits were higher than usual. Then of course other media outlets spread nothing but fear. Oh! AND then we got frustrated because we got to see how other countries were smarter and more caring about the stimulus packages for their people. I realized that some other countries have a leadership team that relates more to their people and in tough times can show how they genuinely they care about their well being, rather than profit. (It's funny to me how this parallels my experience with Corporate America). I think many people realized that our country is not just physically sick, it's actually mentally struggling. Thank goodness for Millenials and Gen Z who started making mindfulness become what we call viral, or popular or "Woke". This is how many of us got back to religion, or even if they are not part of a religion, they still see things much more clearly and want to do better for themselves and make the world a better place. I still choose to believe that the majority of people are good, even though I've experienced some awful people in my lifetime.

For me, things are finally okay now, physically and emotionally. Im living a humble life, learning and growing and surrounded by much nicer people now, I mean this in the nicest way, but it feels almost shocking that here, people have morals, and they care about women being treated, "special" for lack of a better word. L.A. was definitely not my home and I hope it will never be again. Here, I see forests and mountains everywhere I look, I get greeted by cute squirrels outside all of the time, and lastly the rivers and lakes are beautiful. Even my cats are showing significant signs of healthier and happier lives. Im in the outskirts, but Downtown Portland is beautiful too. It is small compared to L.A. and San Diego, but exceptionally clean and pretty, friendliness is everywhere. The best part is that it has preserved some really nice historical buildings. It holds the largest book store in the world! It feels a little like a ghost town because the riots during the Black Lives Matter movement drove out a lot of businesses, therefore there are a lot of empty places, but none the less, it is a very nice experience to walk through it. Homelessness is also an issue here just like it is in California. The people out here though, the majority all seem so nice, it gives off a small town feel where everyone is just trying to live their best life and spread positive vibes. It's not about the car you drive, the way you dress, the neighborhood you live in, they just want to be good people, and honestly, they are some of the most good looking people I've come across. They're not rushing from place to place because "time is money" its just simple and chill. I haven't experienced the angry honking, or rude interactions I am used to. Im just minding my own business, smiling at everyone and taking it all in. I love it here.

I think I feel what a lot of immigrants feel when they first come to America, except I just didn't leave the country, I only migrated to another state. I feel like a kid experiencing life for the first time. The excitement, the knowledge I am consuming, the culture shocks in the most positive way. Im just open minded and learning and growing and appreciating every moment with my whole heart. It feels like God gave me a warm hug this year. He not only helped me out of depression, he helped me see that I have a bigger purpose, and helped me find a state that suits me and my personality better. Thank You infinitely to God and to Oregon for welcoming me.