#it would just be a one way ticket to eating disorder city

[backtodecembertv]

working out is so good for me mentally, except for how i have to work to silence the evil goblin in my head that wants to make it about losing weight. no calorie counting, no examining my body in the gym mirrors, no comparing my body to other women's bodies, no cardio to make up for eating treats, none of that shit. exercise is about getting stronger and feeling good

[anthonys237thfreckle]

‘Promise’ - Javier ‘Javi’ x Kate Carter & F! reader (angst!)

someone asked for a part two and I realized how good of an idea that was lmao. I need indirect ways to incorporate my past experiences into my fics anyway.

part one

prompt: you made a promise to distance yourself from Javi and Kate

TW: mentions of smoking, some detailed mention of self harm, suicidal thoughts, mentions of nausea, disordered eating, breakdowns, smoking, angst :(

Do NOT proceed if the triggers mentioned above upset you greatly. You have been warned.

I made a promise

To distance myself

Once Tyler dropped you off to the train station, you smiled and waved until you couldn’t see his truck anymore. You wanted to hang onto any last string of familiarity for as long as you could.

Especially since your life would change completely - for better or worse.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to calm down your trembling body.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

5 things you see - the train station, the crumbling yellow bricks, the jolly red-white-blue american flag, your luggage, and the people. Lots of people.

4 things you hear - the people, obviously, the cicadas crying, the heavy bell ringing inside, the honking of cars for you to get out of their way.

3 things you smell - the heat - somehow, the smell of smoke from cars, and the thick air.

2 things you feel - terrified. hurt.

1 thing you taste - bitterness.

Shaking your head, you take another deep breath. Eyes dead set on the mission in front of you, you marched into the train station, bought a ticket to Oklahoma City, and settled down inside.

But now was the hardest part; waiting. What made it harder was you didn’t want to think about anything that happened yesterday. So, putting your headphones on, you made a playlist with none of the songs that reminded you of Javi or any of the ones he recommended to you. Essentially, you just listened to 3 songs in total, over and over again, but the knowledge you knew what was coming next was comforting, something you couldn’t apply to your current situation.

Took a flight, through aurora skies

Honestly, I didn't think about

How we didn't say goodbye

Just see you very soon

You woke up when the train jolted to a stop - you had fallen asleep, waking up to hear the opening notes of some song you were listening to earlier. Looking out the window, you reached Oklahoma City. With a sigh of relief and trepidation, you got your bags and headed out of the station, hailed a taxi to the airport. Booking a last minute flight back home to LA, you made your way to the gate. Setting your bag down, you sat in a char near the huge windows. Deciding it wasn’t close enough, you sat on the little raised platform attached to the window and leaned your head against it like you saw so many children do.

The boarding call was announced, and everyone sat up groggily. It all went by pretty quickly. Standing in line, getting your boarding pass stamped and your passport checked, finding you seat, putting your bag away and sitting down. Taxi and take off was a blur; luckily you got a window seat, and stared out at the pink clouds, tinted by the setting sun, a peach tone.

Peachy, just like your favourite pie.

You groaned, covering your eyes and rubbing them as your mind started to think about Oklahoma. About Javi, and the last time he saw you. And the last thing he said to you. It wasn’t even a proper goodbye, but you couldn’t blame him because he didn’t know it was goodbye.

And honestly, neither did you.

But you made yourself a promise - to distance yourself.

Those last words of his echoed in your mind.

“I- Okay, alright. Take care, (Y/N)”

It hurts to be something

It's worse to be nothing with you

You half expected a text from Javi - it had been around 24 hours since you last saw him. Since you told him you had a ‘family emergency’ to take care of. Who wouldn’t expect a little ‘you doing okay?’ or ‘safe travels’ when someone saw you break down in the middle of a field, distressed as hell? Sure, you and Javi weren’t dating, sure you both drifted apart ever since Kate got closer with him instead, but were you two not even friends anymore?

Did you mean nothing to him?

This wasn’t the first time he ghosted you - after the EF5 tornado, he didn’t say a word to you. But it was understandable why - everyone was hurting, and maybe he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. In Oklahoma, the only times he’d talk to you is when you started a conversation, otherwise you could sit silently and he’d happily talk with Kate, leaving you be. It was never him starting anything.

And Kate. Did she figure out you liked Javi? Is that why she didn’t text you? Did she feel guilty? Part of you wanted her to feel guilty, but the other part of you didn’t want to be pitied. Part of you wanted to go back, but this - this was best for you right now. Nobody could tell you otherwise.

Instead, you got a text from Tyler.

‘hey there cowgirl - how you getting along?’

You chuckled - ‘cowgirl’ was probably the worst way to describe yourself. Instead, you typed down a response, your heart a little less heavy.

‘hey, Tyler. thanks for asking. means a lot’

He was typing, the three dots appearing on screen

‘of course. lemme know if you need anything at all okay? stay safe out there’

You sent him an affirmative text, thankful to actually have a friend who cared enough to check in on you, helping you out without questioning anything, having only known you for a week.

So I didn't call you

For sixteen long days

You found comfort in some form of familiarity in your life; back home in LA, everything looked duller, more still. Like the whole world knew about your heartbreak and was mourning, or mocking you. You tried to plunge into work, distracting yourself but sometimes, you’d just stare at your work, screen or paper, and just zone out. Your was brain still trying to process everything, and you were losing a lot over it - sleep, peace, overall joy, your will to wake up, and more.

It felt like after the EF5 tornado but worse because you knew somewhere in Oklahoma, Kate was with Javi, both of them happier than ever. It felt worse because you could never have him anymore. He was gone. And someone got to see him every day, sometimes wake up next to him, sometimes stay up all night with him. You felt like you were gonna be sick.

For a fortnight, all you could eat was cheese, bread, and grapes. It was the only thing you could keep down.

It was so hard not to text Javi. After you had just left, it’s like you were isolated for 5 years, given a taste of him, then forcing yourself to stay away. It was something you chose to do, not something you were forced to live with.

But you won’t call him. No matter how long the days felt they were dragging by.

And I should get a cigarette

For so much restraint

Walking by a drugstore to entertain yourself, you entered the establishment with an electronic ding notifying your presence. Strolling through the ailes, you picked up Sourhead Extremes (so in case you wanted to call Javi, you’d have to go through a gustatory agony first) and some nail polish, just to look pretty. Walking to the cashier, you mindlessly threw in a pack of cigarettes onto the counter, before putting them back in a jerky motion.

“What the hell…” you murmured to yourself, ashamed of what you were about to do. Buy cigarettes - to smoke.

Walking out of the store briskly, you speed-walked home; chiding yourself for almost ‘rewarding’ your no contact mission by smoking, you realized how truly pathetic you were.

“God, what is wrong with me…” you muttered, keeping your head down, watching the wet streets reflect the light of the sun and your dark sorrow.

No matter how long I resist temptation

I will always lose,

Eventually you did buy the cigarettes. You went home, lounging in your bed, a pretty china plate acting like an ashtray for you. Legs up in the air, swinging occasionally, eyes half lidded from the light high, you felt the chalky smoke fill your lungs, watching it come out in little clouds of grey air.

You felt in control for the first time since leaving Oklahoma - the cigarette sitting pretty between your red tinted fingers and lips. You smiled softly, satisfied by finally scoring a small win. You didn’t tell Tyler that you smoked. He’d say it’s a horrible habit you should give up.

Obviously it was more of a lose - giving into an impulse, and now you were at risk of falling deeper into addiction. You weren’t in control, you never really were.

But why would you make yourself feel worse when you were on the literal brink of crumbling?

Although, you didn’t get addicted. After the high wore off, you felt disgusted, throwing out the pack of almost full cigarettes. You wouldn’t tell Tyler, of course.

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing with you

Two weeks went by, and though you pretended everything was okay, it really wasn’t. You didn’t know if you missed Javi or not, but you really didn’t want to.

You don’t know if you want to see the face you loved so much, the face that lights up when he sees Kate, the face that Kate holds, kisses, caresses.. the face that she admires alongside you.

You wanted to get over him, you really did, but you cared so much about him. You didn’t want to stop caring about him, when loving him felt so… lovely.

But it hurt so much.

You barely got any sleep this past fortnight. Having a reverie about the man who daydreamed about another woman. The things you wished he did to you, he did to Kate. He was hers. So assured, so confident. No doubt in that.

For a fortnight, there you were, stripped of any text backs from him.

You were starting to think you just wanted his attention, which you dont know if you wanted anymore, knowing his attention belonged to Kate. Why would you care so much about him texting you?

But then again, weren’t you two friends?

I’ve done the math

There’s no solution

We’ll never last

Why can’t I let go of this?

Right now, you, broken, needed comfort. May it be fake hope again. Nobody was there to stop you anyway, so in your free time, you started to think of the ways Kate and Javi would have problems with each other.

‘She’s too arrogant sometimes, and he’s really down to earth’

‘She can’t communicate her feelings!’

‘Kate’s one to settle, Javi isn’t’

Of course, you knew it was wrong. Of course it was a bitchy thing to think. But who were you to care right now?

You were hurt, and you needed to feel better to even try and start to get a grip on reality. you didn’t want to rip of the band aid yet.

Not yet.

Even worse, your mind started thinking of ways you and Javi could get together; Kate could leave him in the dark again, she could get into a fight with him…

But nothing made sense - she wouldn’t leave when she looked at him that way… and any fights would be cleared quickly with Javi’s forgiving nature.

He would do anything for her.

All in all, you realized how shitty you were being, and texted Tyler, saying you couldn’t hide from Javi - couldn’t hide from the pain that haunted you. The bright lights of LA looked dull. The sun felt like a false light.

Your world was falling apart, how could the sun be shining when your world was falling apart?

‘Just walk around. Wear something that makes you feel good. Grab some good lunch downtown. Spoil yourself. Act like a damn tourist, I don’t care. Just do anything that reminds you that there’s more to life than Javi’ he wrote.

So I broke my promise

I called you last night

I shouldn’t have, I wouldn’t have

If it weren’t for the sight of a boy who

Looked just like you standing out on Melrose Avenue…

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing, with you.

Three days later, you sat on the roof of a building. The sun was setting, you looked at the streets below. People were walking - their dogs, their toddlers, and whatnot.

You were so disappointed with yourself. Closing your eyes, you thought back to everything that happened yesterday.

Following Tyler’s advice, you woke up ready to face the day.

Waking up bright and early, you went for a run, saw some pretty things on the way. You found it insane how easy it was to overlook the small things in life.

Coming home, you made breakfast; oatmeal with bananas, almond butter and chocolate chips. You savoured every bite with a smile.

You hopped into the shower, using your favourite body wash. Putting on an outfit, doing your hair and makeup, slipping on your shoes, you left the house, ready to explore the city…

All was going well until sunset.

—

You were walking along the streets of LA, acting like you’d never seen anything like it before. A coffee in hand, you walked confidently down the path, turning a corner to browse a bookstore on Melrose Avenue, when someone caught your eye.

A boy, waiting for the light signal to turn green, who looked exactly like Javi.

You froze.

Suddenly, you didn’t want coffee any more. You didn’t want anything right now but to go home.

—

You rushed home, trying so hard to control your breathing, then stumbling desperately to your room. As soon as your face crashed against the pillows, the soft, gentle fabric a perfect medium to absorb the tears now flowing down your face. You sobbed, curled into a still-bedazzled ball on your bed, hugging yourself, contracting into a fibonacci.

Reaching for your purse, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. Through the wet and blurry lens of your tears, you scrolled into the alphabet until you reached the ‘J’ section. The first name was Javi.

Pressing on his name, then the ‘call’ button, you held it to your ear, taking shuddering breaths as you tried calming yourself down. The your phone cooed like a pigeon, signalling his phone, somewhere in Oklahoma, was ringing.

You were clean. Clean for a little over 2 weeks. Clean from his voice ringing in your ears, new words exchanged and whatnot.

But as you held your phone in your hand, crying, watching it reach Javi’s phone, waiting for him to answer, it all felt like a relapse.

Like the feeling of the cool blade on your skin, slicing through, leaving an angry red river in its wake.

The sick, high feeling you get from it - the ecstasy, watching you destroy yourself, finding beauty in the rubble.

Some part of you, the logical part of you was screaming to press the red button. To leave Javi alone. It wasn’t fair for you to reach out first, right? Why would you make a fool out of yourself by calling him? You’re not that desperate for him, are you?

But the hurt, emotional, desperate part of you didn’t, daring him to answer. Just to remind him of your existence. Just this once.

Still fighting the internal battle, you delved deeper into why he didn’t call you yet.

Did Kate tell him everything? Did she finally find out? Did she realize at all about how hurt you were?

The anger only just started to hit you, claiming your brain as a new population to be corrupted, a new host for the parasite, a new fruit to rot.

You were mad. You didn’t know at who. But you decided you were mad at Kate. For dating him. You knew it was wrong to be mad, because you had no claim over Javi, but you were too deep into your anger to actually think of a better way to cope. Suddenly, you were so mad at Kate. So, so mad. Part of you wanted to tear your house down, scream like a mad woman, but you didn’t. Your dwindling self control kept you in check.

Then came the sadness. You were so mad at Kate, but she was so happy right now. She didn’t care or know how your felt right now. how hurt you felt right now. She had Javi. Her Javi. And they were both happy - oh so happy, oh so blissfully unaware of how you felt right now.

They were happy - they were perfectly fine without you. Because they didn’t need you as a friend, not like they did in college - maybe they didn’t back then either, because they had each other. That’s all they needed. Each other was all they needed.

You were so deep into the crevices of your mind, drowning in both pain and relief, you almost didn’t hear your name drenched in Javi’s voice coming from the speaker.

‘[name]?’

—

follow + stay tuned for part three!!

[roseofithaca]

Once In A Deathtime

(Based in @idiotwithanipad 's Corporeal AU, where the ghosts get to have a physical body and be able to leave the grounds on their birthdays. But as my oc Silver sleeps through most of her birthdays due to her curse, the rare ones where she is awake on a full moon, she gets a bonus).

-

If anyone had asked Danita Kaur last week if she'd ever see herself going on a blind date, she'd probably have choked on her Dr. Pepper. The idea of dating on its own was tricky enough, but figuratively going into one blind? She couldn't think of anything more anxiety inducing.

To be fair, this hadn't been pitched to her as a blind date. More of an escort request with the bonus of a trip to London, two tickets to a West End show and dinner in the Shard, all expenses paid. With that kind of incentive, she'd have gladly agreed to accompany an ogre.

Thankfully her date was far from that.

"Does your aunt always spoil you like this then?" She asks it somewhat teasingly.

The girl sat across the table from her doesn't look like the sort who is used to money and privilege. If anything, she looks as out of place dining in one of the most expensive restaurants in England as Dani feels. But then again, she's been rather nervous and jumpy since they got off the train at Victoria station.

Dani had been prepped for that though.

Robyn has been through a lot. Can't really go into the details but this is gonna be her first time in the city...and also out of her room, for a while. I was meant to take her out for her birthday but somethings come up with Mia - and I think you two would have a lot of fun together.

The pink fringed girl shakes her head; "Nah. I mean, she does a lot of things for me I'm super grafeful for, but this is a...very rare and special treat."

"Oh it's been 'special' has it? Glad I impressed."

A giggle passes between them, Robyn's cheeks flashing rather adorably, before the waiter brings out their desserts.

They both went for the chocolate lava cake. As with the last two courses, Robyn eats like someone who hasn't had a meal in weeks. Dani doesn't want to make any assumptions, but given how skinny the girl is she can't help but wonder if she's been recovering from some sort of eating disorder.

It earns them a few looks from some of the upper class prats who probably eat here two or three nights a week.

Robyn catches their sneers and quickly wipes the melted chocolate from her lips, uttering an apology to Dani.

"Pfft. Fuck 'em." She grins back before shoving a huge mouthful of the dessert between her lips, making just as much of a mess.

Her date giggles some more. She has the most infectious laugh Dani thinks she's ever heard, and the way her unnaturally blue eyes sparkle each time is mesmerising. Those must be contacts, but Dani can hardly judge with her hair extensions.

They discuss the musical they'd finished watching just over an hour ago, when they'd left the theatre with Robyn dabbing at the tears making her eyeliner run.

"I cried the first time too." Dani had confessed, though she'd been thirteen at her first viewing. This was her third.

"It was soo good! Totally lived up to the hype. I just wish Glinda and Elphaba had-."

"Gotten together?"

"Yes! I'd only ever seen a few clips on YouTube, I thought that it was a gay Wizard of Oz fanfic musical!"

Dani chuckles; "One day someone will make the real version where she runs away with Glinda instead of the scarecrow. I'm sure someone from TikTok is already on it."

"Is that a band?"

"No, I mean...the app?"

"Oh! Yeah, of course! Apps! I know all about those..." She grins, sounding more like Dani's grandfather when he tries to be 'down with the kids slang' rather than a nineteen year old.

There's been a few weird moments like that today. Like when Robyn had been stressing about needing to buy a ticket to ride the tube only for Dani to explain how she only needed to tap it with her phone. Despite having one of her own, Robyn seemed at a loss of how to use it, like when Alison called to check on them earlier and she couldn't seem to work out how to press and drag the answer icon.

"My parents were super strict and anti-technology. They've not let me have anything more advanced than a Nokia since I was a kid." She'd explained.

"And I thought my folks were backwards! But honestly, probably better for you. Most people these days can't get off their phones." Dani had that same problem when she was younger but was proud to say she'd massively reduced her screen time since getting her job as a greenskeeper at the Button House golf course.

Most of the time she was on her knees in the grass and muck, picking up lost balls and litter, but other times she was tending to the plants and trimming the bushes. She had no shortage of fresh air, even on her break she preferred to sit in her quiet spot in the woods and read rather than scroll through social media and vids.

Only yesterday she'd been sat in that spot when the former owner of the hotel who visited often had approached her to ask for this very favour.

Once they've finished their desserts and ordered their second round of cocktails - Robyn reassures her that Alison said they could "go nuts" and so they do - Dani has enough Dutch courage to ask the question that's been on the tip of her tongue ever since she first laid eyes on Robyn getting out of the cab in her stunning, rather New Age dress and chunky knee high boots.

"So. Cards on table. Did your aunt intend for this to be a blind date?"

Robyn bites her bottom lip; "Uhh...maybe. I mean it was definitely her idea. And she knows I'm into girls so...I hope she didn't make any assumptions about you though?"

"I wear a lesbian badge pin on my coveralls. I'd be worried if she came to any different assumptions."

"Oh, yeah, 'course you do! I mean...she might have mentioned that..."

Another weird little moment. Dani frowns as Robyn sips at her White Russian. From the moment they met, she was certain that she'd seen this girl before....somewhere....

But they didn't live anywhere near each other. Robyn was a few years younger than her, thankfully not too much to make Dani feel like a cradle snatcher.

"I mean...is it okay with you that it did turn out to be...that?" Robyn asks, swirling the ice with her finger.

Dani smirks; "Think it's been pretty fun so far. What about you?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I....This days been fucking ace, hahaha."

"Ace? You're so retro, I love it."

"Y-you do?" Robyn tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I really do." Dani dared to reach across and take the pale hand on the table, covered in a translucent long sleeved glove that went with her dress.

Robyn was nearly scarlet as she let their fingers link up.

Was that electricity she felt running between their hands? Dani had always thought that to just be a cheesy metaphor. But something about touching Robyn made her feet truly tingly all over.

Perhaps she was magical. She was a 'witch' after all. Dani had asked about her pentacle necklace shortly after meeting her and Robyn had been rather open and eager to talk about her faith.

Dani had been brought up Sikh and would still identify as such if asked. But there was so much beauty to be found in all the many, many religious myths and stories that she felt like they all had some sort of truth to them. She wasn't sure if she believed in some of the spiritualist spell stuff but the way Robyn spoke about it made it sound fascinating.

"I do kinda believe there's a world beyond what we see, you know? It's not exaxtly what I was brought up to believe but I do feel like spirits from those who've died are watching over us. Does that sound crazy?" She'd asked Robyn.

The pale girl had gulped, her lips curling a little; "Not crazy at all."

They moved out to a private lounge Alison had booked for them with a stunning view of the city at night. Light pollution made it seem as though the stars had fallen from the heavens and were scattered out before them either side of the Thames.

Both of them were truly tipsy now, knees knocking as they sat on a comfy sofa. They were doing their best not to get too shit faced, Alison had text to let them know a cab would pick them up outside the Shard just after midnight.

"Proper Cinderella vibes. You're not gonna turn into a pumpkin on me, are you?"

"What version did you see where Cinderella becomes the pumpkin?!"

"The cool version, shut up!" They crease up into giggles as they start to lean in closer to each other.

Robyn brings her fingers up to stroke against Dani's neck.

"This has been the best birthday ever." She sighs.

"I didn't even get you a present!" Granted she didn't know the girl existed before yesterday.

Robyn smiles; "You did. You came."

Dani blinks. Robyn speaks as if her specifically coming had been her desire. But they'd never met before. Had they? The girl was more than a little unique, no way would Dani have met her before and forgotten about it.

She's about to lean in to kiss the girl when she notices a tear fall from her eye.

Dani pulls back; "Hey. You okay? We don't have to..."

Shit. Alison's words about her niece having been through something repeat in her brain. What if it was something more traumatic than she'd thought?

Robyn shakes her head; "N-no...I want to, I really do, it's just...."

"Just what?" Dani squeezes the other girl's hand.

"I....I feel like if I kiss you, I'll want to do it again."

Dani frowns, then chuckles; "And that's a bad thing?"

"Yeah...Because I can't. Not after tonight."

A cold beat.

"What do you mean? You really are gonna turn into a pumpkin? Or whatever happens in the dumb story?"

Robyn shakes her head; "Not quite. I just...we can't see each other again."

"Why not? I thought you'd had a good time. I know I have. It's been strange but....a cool strange."

"I know. But I...I have to go away, after tonight. Really far away. I can't say where."

Dani felt herself begin to sober a little, in the worst way; "Uhm...okay. But I'm gonna be working at the hotel for a while, I mean if you could ask your aunt to book you a room or if you're ever in the area-."

"No. I'm sorry."

The girl can't even meet her eyes now. Dani let's go of her hand and sits up.

"Did I....Did I do something to upset you?"

"What? No, gods, Dani, you've....You've been everything I hoped for."

"So you did go into this knowing your aunt was setting us up? Even though you knew it wasn't going to go anywhere?"

Robyn wipes at her cheek; "I....I didn't expect you to like me back. Fuck, I wasn't even expecting you to say yes to coming!"

"Is that a low opinion of you or me?"

"Me, obviously."

"Why? Robyn, we've spent the whole day together and I've never clicked like this with anyone. There is nothing wrong with you."

The girl scoffs, "Oh, you have no idea..."

Dani knows she shouldn't say the next words. Don't assume. Don't let her imagination run away. But fuck it. Someone got into this gorgeous girl's head.

"Were you in a cult?"

Robyn stares and touches her pentacle; "What?"

"No, I don't mean Wicca, I mean...I might have just read too many novels but...You just seem like someone who's been shut off from the world? If you're in some kinda trouble then-."

The girl laughs. And then Dani does too. It was a pretty wild theory.

"No cult, honest. Though I do have some...rather weird friends. But they're good. You can ask Alison. I really wish I could tell you more. Fuck, I wish this night could last forever-."

"Then let it!" Dani encourages, taking her hand again, "Robyn, I've only recently felt comfortable being out. I never thought I'd be lucky enough to actually find a girl I like this soon...I dunno if I believe in fate or maybe it's just the vodka talking but...This feels like we were meant to meet each other. Doesn't it? I feel like I've known you for months."

"...Thirteen, in fact."

"What's that?"

"Nothing." Robyn shakes her head, peacock feather earing tickling her bare shoulder.

Dani wipes her tear with her thumb and guides her face towards hers again.

"C'mon. It's your birthday. Whatever happens next, let me at least give you this."

Robyn's sapphire eyes sparkle as Dani moves in closer, hands beneath her jawline, before their lips connect. There's tension at first, her companion awkward and stiff, hesitant, before leaning in and moving her own fingers up Dani's sides. It feels like both of their first kissed with another woman, and the first of any to matter. Robyn smells of magic; of sage and lavender incense. Dani hopes the perfume she borrowed from Shanon at Reception is masking any nervous sweat.

There's that tingling again. That fizzle of energy that doesn't quite feel normal. She doesn't pull back from it, instead letting it vibrate through her bloodstream and to her pounding heart beneath her ribs. Robyn's fingers are touching the fabric over her breasts. Fuck, why couldn't they have booked a hotel room? Couldn't Alison have sprung for that little bit extra for her niece? As the clock strikes midnight, Dani realises she wants to explore everything and everywhere with this girl with skin like the moon.

Her eyes are closed when they finally pull back and Robyn takes her hands away.

"Thank you." She whispers.

Dani opens her eyes.

She blinks. She sits alone in the private lounge. Alone with the dazzling view and an untouched White Russian vodka on the table.

"Robyn? Robyn?!"

When she asks the waiter where her 'friend' went, he gives her an off putting look like she's insane. Her temper rises when she goes to the bar and demands for someone who must have seen something to tell her where Robyn went. Then to check the CCTV if necessary.

But it brings her the same answer that chills her to the bone.

"Miss...You've been dining alone this entire night."

As promised, there is a cab waiting for her on the street eighty seven floors below.

Alison is waiting for her in the backseat.

"You probably have questions."

Too fucking right she does.

-

Silver opens her eyes. The gate which she'd rode out from in the back of Alison and Mike's car earlier that day stands before her. She glances down at her outfit. Her dress is gone. Back to her regular gear. Back to Button House.

Back to being invisible.

For a dead girl, her heartbeat still echoes in her head as if it continues to thump away. The tingle of Dani's lips remain on her own mouth. She brushes her fingertips against them. She cries.

It was the best birthday ever. Why did that mean it had to hurt?

Tentative footsteps approach her.

"....Good trip?" A gravelly voice asks with a hint of humor.

Silver turns to her friend whose name she'd borrowed for a day in case either of hers was too obvious. Had he been waiting up for her? At the sight of her tears, his face falls with concern, the paw stroking at his front reaching towards her.

She runs to him and let's him embrace her tight. He doesn't ask anything. Good. She can't begin to describe what this day has been.

Incredible. Spellbinding. Devastating.

-

Dani stares at the sketch. She knew she'd seen the girl before. And she had. Many times. Every lunch break where she'd sat beside this memorial, this bed of flowers and statuettes of Greek gods, the sketch of the sleeping girl on the tree had been in the corner of her eyes.

The girl who she'd sat on a train with and watched her look out the window, eyes wide, like a dog allowed on a car ride. The girl she'd linked arms with as they walked around London and laughed at the street performers and bought sweets at Covent Garden. The girl who'd cried watching Glinda and Elphaba sing their goodbyes. The girl she'd sat at the top of the world with and had her first real kiss.

The girl who died when Dani had only been a toddler.

"You should have told me the truth." She whispers towards the bed, hoping the pink haired Wiccan is there, "I'd have been cool with it. Okay I might have freaked and called your aunt...I mean, whoever Alison is to you...but I'd have chilled out after a bit...I think."

She takes a seat on the grass beside the flowers.

"Alison told me everything. About this...stupid curse you've got. She said you'd be awake for today so I hope you're here. Otherwise I guess I'll just have to keep repeating myself next time I'm working on the full moon." She smiles, "So ghosts get one day a year to feel things like a living person....and you sleep through yours? That fucking sucks. But on the flip side...You get to be seen too? Once every...twenty years or so? Still sounds like a rubbish deal but...Hey. It means we got to meet, so..."

Dani moves her hand through the flowers, gently, trying to imagine Robyn...No- Silver's hand there.

Tears blur her vision.

"It was a pretty amazing day wasn't it. I guess I can wait twenty or so years for the next one. Give me enough time to plan how to treat you." She smiles, her chest aching. "Typical. First pretty girl I kiss is a forty year old ghost. Didn't know you were a cougar too....that's kinda hot."

She gets out her phone. All the photos she took of the two of them together throughout the day are now mere selfies with a curious empty space beside her.

But she remembers. She'll always remember.

[marxalittle]

I have mild-to-moderate-to-severe general anxiety disorder (GAD! Is, in fact, how I often feel, both in general and about this). It’s medication-resistant because my brain is hooked up funny, which is also a reason why I have this problem in the first place. There are various ways I can reduce or assuage it, and various things I have done over the years to placate it; it comes and goes, it better and worse, but it’s always there.

One of the things which this gives rise to is “nagging worries about everything especially the unfamiliar,” which often manifests as “paranoia that something which shouldn’t go wrong may suddenly go wrong and upend an entire necessary sequence” resulting in me making double or triple sure of things, scouting routes before I need to be somewhere at a time, and generally doing a lot of things which strongly resemble time-wasting busywork. Again, the severity and degree is better and worse depending on my overall state, the severity of what could go wrong, the degree of unfamiliarity etc etc and so on.

I try not to listen to the paranoia too much, but sometimes it’s just easier to eat the time and settle my mind. Today, I got one of those little reminders about, not Why I’m Like This (brain hooked up funny), but the positive side to listening to the urge to be certain.

Recently I moved to Chicago, and I brought a car with me because I had no other viable choice. My plan is to sell it in the next few months, but for now, I’m saddled with it. Anyway, Chicago has a lot of rules about who can park where and when and for how long and what days and they’re generally posted where you can see them on street signs every block but it’s very overwhelming for a person inclined to having their mind eroded if left uncertain about something with Consequences. Through careful street sign analysis, however, I located a few blocks within a reasonable walk of my new place which didn’t require a neighborhood code on the tags and didn’t have standing April-Nov street sweeping (and weren’t snow routes, and didn’t have school-hour or M-F special parking or tow zones, or … on like this), and parked my car there before leaving for vacation.

A lot of things happened in a very short span in August, okay.

Anyway, when I got back I had received the city tag entitling me to park in the city without getting ticketed (if noticed), slapped it on my car, and then left it for another week, satisfied that it was immune to further interference by the parking regime.

Today is Tuesday. Tomorrow is Wednesday.

Tomorrow, I’m doing a bunch of logistics stuff which requires the use of my car. Once I had taken care of all the other scheduling, my anxiety immediately demanded that I check on the car. It hadn’t been started for two weeks. There might be an abandoned-vehicle regulation about cars that don’t move for 14 days. Someone might have hit it while parallel parking.

I had two choices: ignore the itch (and let it fester), or take a trip out to see my car. It’s a twenty minute walk, about half that on my skateboard, or if I catch the bus at the right time, about ten minutes still but air conditioned. I grabbed the board (I love living somewhere with big enough sidewalks that I can just take the cruiser to cut down my travel time) and my car keys and set out to calm the paranoid demon that would otherwise gnaw on my brain all goddamned day. Besides, if something had happened, I was going to need the maximum amount of business hours to figure out who to contact about vehicles towed by the city, and where to buy my car back from its officially sanctioned thieves.

Well! As soon as I got into the neighborhood, off the main thoroughfare which gets street-swept all season, I noticed a bunch of the orange temporary signs that the streets and sanitation dept wraps around trees to signal their intentions to the locals. Specifically, a bunch of W for Wednesday signs on the side of the street where I’d parked my car, and TH for Thursday on the opposite side. Those weren’t there last weekend, so they must be fairly recent. 9am-2pm, tow zone, street sweeping, photo enforced.

I sped up, sweating and muttering, hoping that those had gone up over the weekend and not last week. My relief when my car was still there, unticketed and untowed, was damn near catastrophic.

Very calmly, I unlocked the car, started it (right up like normal), let things run for a minute, and then pulled out of my spot and into a new one, half a block away, on the Thursday side. Tomorrow when I get there, my car will not be in danger of towing for being on the street sweeping side, and it will start. When I’m done with it, I will drive around a little until I find a spot on the Wednesday side, park, and be at ease until next Tuesday morning, when I will head over to move it again, until the signs go away.

Things like this happening don’t do a damn thing for my attempts to calm my anxiety and resist doing the things it wants me to do, by the way. They do, however, impress upon me that sometimes, especially in new environments, it’s worth it to be sure.

[serialjune]

The Betty Boop Continuum, ch. 1

George

    Sandra twisted my mind in no way any woman ever had before. She'd torment me, hardly speaking, barely moving, her face concealing the bad news. There's only one woman like that in every man's life and possibly only one woman, period, Sandra. I suppose you can't be yourself all the time and, at one point or another, the adversary is going to capitalize on that inconsistency, making a fool of you for the ages. I always thought history had such a soft-hearted and coy way of putting social rejection: left out in the rain, beaten away with a broom, cartoon acts of glib violence and a parable featured at the end. There's nothing soft hearted about Quartown. A couple of romances here and there, the vanishing voice of a Cuban enchantress, a secret shared only by the ends of the Earth, where the Atlantic meets the Pacific. And I always have to ask, embracing the sea in this romantic mode, would I go back to that place? Where seashores yearned for inexperience, that lust for life, mythically our own, but never really. Neither ancestors, either.

    I wanted to get away, by night, where I could join the descendents who might take me from this cruel place. I needed some benign fool to warm my saucer with the tender rays of mutual acceptance. If that meant deforming into a sack of skin, I wouldn't mind. Conquistadors before me would, at times, keel to their own cruelty and settle for a savage, only to learn that the savage, too, cannot digest stupidity any more than his own kin might. The priestly elder, coat of arms, no more kindly when he taps the staff of exile. I took a skinny bitch in shades, from the tanning booth, to be the hallmark of decadence both my grandpa and myself could take euphoria from: beauty for an age, eclipsed by a moment's desire. Evil, all evil, not mine, but someone else's: how it is all like a game of hot potato, taken to the bitter end, where the can goes rattling down the line.

    Lately my anxiety had grown like a mazey vine of tangles, right out of my seat, a fire down under. All these girls, even before Sandra, had this remarkably cheap way of applying mascara and it somehow made them look like Goddesses. Not Greek. Polynesian, maybe. Babylonian. A cascading yellow face illuminated by the bronze emission of a city bus: unconventional, but pretty. The universal smell of wine and beer, especially where it does not belong... she'd come from the wreckage looking pure, untouched by her own environmental conditioning. Such scenes, such racoon looking smears of makeup, all tribute to the one and only lost soul, the orchid, the phony. Why did everyone love beer so much? Disarray, disorder, aesthetics of contradiction and disgusting portraiture. I know that's the ticket for me, but for everyone else, too? Just never thought the old working stiffs had it in them, maybe we weren't sharing the same drink... somehow always reminding me of her. I raced to drunkenness, raping her with the very presence of my disfigured mind. She always saw right through me like an x-ray. To lose it all in one gesture of over-confidence. I never was the type to lose my head, in love or peace time, but for her, I'd not go gently into that good night... And now bathrobes and chintzy leather, braids and robotic forms of masculinity shuffle around the corridor, as I wallow dead in my failure to organize a plan. 

Sandra

    So then we watched Adventure Time for four seasons straight, refusing to eat and drunk on love to the point of hangover. Hey, it's embarrassing, but it's what really happened. Oh, love, that relapse of the animalian will. 

    Teagan (who's name really sounded more like "Teenager") manage to save two bong rips over the course of six hours, all night. Every tiny bump startled him to the point of jumping. It looked remarkably silly, to see a man with a beard that Paul Bunyan could have only dreamed of, afraid like a little boy. The beadiness of those black eyes caused me to frantically worry about things his alter-ego might do, if suddenly enabled by a switch. As a woman, I knew to keep my panic hushed and plan for my escape later. 

    On a scale of 1-100 (with 100 being "party planet" and 1 being "sometimes I still see my neighbour", I'd say the present year of 202x was at about 50%). I was having good thoughts for an alarming amount of time, then my dad walked in and ruined the chill vibes immediately. He came at me, saying all this about,  

 "I play the fool just to build you up into playing the seer. Young people cannot see how lucky they are, if not for this one fact: parents act as step ladders for their minds," 

    And my brain tried its hardest to reject that thought. It was like KFC, Skittles and Pepsi, during the Superbowl, were electrocuting my mind with their rainbow crest of intrusion. In that moment, I could have told you that I wanted it all in me. Yet how little that was to ask, Pepsi, KFC and Skittles. Corruption is a part of getting older, after all. Maybe believing that for so long led me here, amongst the beer stains and bong water debris. This living room was a temple to the devil, an unbearable chamber of death to any person not "in" on the filthiness. I'd joke around, thinking about a maid coming into this and neatly feather dusting as if she didn't see a thing. People could not believe my dad taught us to drink at 14. He had deeply Catholic suspicions.

    And then there was George. He'd walk in the door at about 11, or so, and his onlookers would hysterically ask of his present state, worrying to no end that he might be in trouble. I believe this challenged his patience to some degree. Sometimes he'd arrive at 2am and no one would bat an eye. He'd take off his blue Northface, take a bath, and the calm he felt was enviable. No one knew why he rented a room here, but that's like so many autistic adults. My theory is that "the machine" mistakes them for pot smoking, metaphysical detective burnouts. The truth couldn't be any more ambiguous.

    I used this moment to make my escape. I could not stop thinking about the country life and how much I missed and adored that old world. All countries are the same country anyways, and I miss mine as much as Wordsworth's (a "friend" of my dad.) The return to the country, that would solve everything. All this would end. No more thought, no more worry. Those trees could do the heavy thinking for me, absorbing it all. I missed the countryside so much, so much. Friendly aliens and untouched night crystals, so unlike human terrain. It made me cry to imagine. Slyvia Plath was an idiot for sticking her head in the oven and not the lilacs.

Teegan

    I remember thinking how extremely hot Sandra looked with that wire frame. She could have been a mommy from the start, all right. I bought chocolates that looked like seashells and left them out for her. I was going to show her, tonight, how to catch a firefly, then sneak in for the perfect kiss. Instead, George and I got stoned and he seemed instantly freaked out. I put mushrooms in our joints, but mostly his. I didn't think that it was wrong, or anything. He clearly was a bit of a badass. His lack of concern made it so. Blowing his mind one more time wouldn't hurt. Five minutes in, he said it tasted like dirt and that the dirt in the ground was making him accept the dirtiness of all things around him. It's these kinds of things that made me think this guy was the best, the kind of guy you have to take to a party. He yelled at me like Patton when he was angry and I respected that. We watched Blade, with Wesley Snipes, and one of our sparks flew so far that no one could see where it ended up. Dave Holster (Sandra's dad) would have believed me if I told him that the spark travelled to a different dimension. Dave watched drone footage of UFOs and recorded the videos to his iMac, where he'd show the equipment to a church home group. I never went or anything, I just borrowed his microphone from time to time. Our new band, "Eeyore's Sorry", was about to make a tribute album to our friend who's mom was raped by her dad to make her into an embryo. Dave told me that God makes solid on his promises, sooner or later, and that his daughter playing PS5, without bitching, was an example of a modern miracle, as well.

    So George left, I think stoned off the mushroom surprise. Feeling good, he'd gone to get soda from the 50 cent machines outside Safeway. The dude was told to go get pickles and I think it was a fool's errand, put on by the girls. The same girls couldn't wait for Giorgio Armani to release their new line of eyelash extensions (at midnight) and I wonder if any of them, except for the two Chloes really, truly cared. I left a note, expressing this, under their door and snuck off like a vampire. When George came back, they told him he needed to get Cumberland's pickles. I don't know what gives them such a hard-on for "Cumberland's Pickles". They were going to subject him to this errand, with no explanation! Those two girls I mentioned a moment ago insisted. Stuff like this makes me want to pour gasoline and light a fire... I wouldn't even try and do it for the insurance.

    George looked like Wittgenstein, wearing his cuffed up blazer. His frazzled moustache made him out to be the most straggely, poetic stoner possible. The guy huffed and puffed traffic fumes and dreamed of living in the mall's scaffolds. His room had knife marks all over the walls and the door, I think he couldn't find a dart board online that he felt like spending money on. While he was out to get pickles, the guy left his phone on dead and, unable to tell the time, made it to the store late. I think he DoorDashed the pickles from a gas station, right to the store, and then came home late with Grandma's Fresh (not Cumberland). He told me that he had impulsively bought a whole tray of pre-cooked chicken and left 3/4ths of it at somebody's apartment complex, murmuring something about,

"A waste of $15..."

Natya

    I was living with my boyfriend for what felt like several months by now. He was the barfly and I was his bartender. We'd put on this charade of two people, cordial as hell, taking up the world stage. There was no temptation. It was wonderful in a completely unsustainable way. Minestrone soup sat on the counter top with a bone hemmed into the skin. The epic orchestration from, "The Fox and the Hound," seeped into the kitchen stench and the sogginess of this bun reminded me of the work sponsored luncheons of the past. I hated work with the force of flaming arrows and only ever wanted it to exist in relation to when my parents got home from their jobs.

    The truth is, with or without my boyfriend, my life had been going on like this, well, since it started. The harsh winds and unforgiving tundra of reality was bogging me down and my mood had gone downhill since I was a baby. It says, once, in the Book of Mark, that Jesus cursed a fig tree after it refused to make figs for him, and that says it all. My job was to play old reels of Loreal shampoo commercials for new shareholders. I would typically light a cigarette and babysit and wait as they watched the same old films. If a setting or a nob needed fixing, the eyebrows on the old geezers' faces would tarnish and convey sudden outrage. I hated my life and I began to spend every cent of my savings on makeup and accessories I didn't deserve. I was hastening to become just like my mother and my habits were just as peculiar-seeming. I found a master tape for the "waiting in line" music, shared by all Sanderson & Son corporation sub-companies. This became my driving music almost every day. My soul felt exhumed and stretched beyond the corners, diving so far and so fast into the months that passed like hours. My kids were once very happy just to watch TV. They'd watch so much TV and I'd grow so old. If I died of a fever, they'd still be watching TV. I just wanted to skip it all. Skipping and skipping and skipping.

    I saw the ideal life as a sterilized and tidied space. My boyfriend saw it more as a tangled outgrowth of spontaneous elixirs. My father saw it as fathoming the insignificance of it all so that one could be truly free. Last New Year's, I stayed at a YA hostel and watched all the couples come together (just to break apart again). Soon, everything would be the "same as ever", and all the "goodness" that Christmas wasn't would leave out the door, just as the couples had. My only friends, now, are the tracings of the lost souls I encountered over the years. My only solace: the vastness of my mouth and how I could live inside it, like a shellfish. Tomorrow was supposed to be one degree warmer out. Was my life a curse or was this really the last stop?

    My boyfriend watched with eyes like needle nose plyers. He would think, similarly, about the glacial melting of grand father figures, things slowly breaking up. Knowing everyone would leave him in the end, he'd oscillate between pure kindness and the positive desire to shoot everyone, like a proud Leninist. If everyone was dead, the memories he had of everyone would live. There was always Teegan's place, but I felt above group homes, trap houses, whatever you wanted to call them. I was invited one night to hang out for the Armani sales event, because the one sister, who was probably into crack, decided ovular sunglasses would be her salvation. I guess, maybe, I wasn't so different, in allowing myself to sharply dive into fate, like this.

George, March 13 [in real time]

    You know that floorboard in old houses that feels like mulch? That texture was the scene around here: fibrously connected, damp and simple. Anyone could come in and be anyone. I once listened to this guy, Jason, talk about driving major sized HEMIs off three storey ramps set on the highway. At the same time, Jason's brother would be strung out, not even listening, as Jason lied about him in the story. This band called Chrome played and a sales agent named Tracey kept trying to knock on the door. Just to fuck with her, I told her I was the land lady and she'd have to undo my bathrobe to confirm the sex. I'd never seen anyone so persistent to sell a house, she completely ignored my joke and continued trying to ram her services through the door. I guess the landlord had been trying to sell the place, this group home where all sorts of randoms and fandoms coalesced. If there was ever a sudden eviction notice, nobody cared or paid much attention. It made sense that our Chinese landlord, Ching, wouldn't consult everyone beforehand. I guess this meant we'd need to be packing our stuff. Teegan had his clothes and furniture in garbage bags, at the curb already. That dude was like a Ho Chi Minh of moving between places. Nevermind you, the garbage bags were protruded with sharp edges and panelling, metal from the TV stand to the pipes he installed in the rooftop (he'd be taking them, as they were, "technically his"). The kid came from one of those small lake towns, outrageous hillbilly. I could hear him, right now, recording snaps of himself, saying,

"Don't touch my ass when you come over baby?!"

    And it was unreal enough for my great grandmother to have a laugh. My great grandmother lived in Okinawa for many years and was a transient in the Garden Scene for twenty years. After she left, her slogan became, "Love is All You Need," and a dilapidated shelving unit, with the words inscribed, proved it. Truth is, she was an influence on my neo-Catholic identity. I rejected sex, love and all the rest and found truth in becoming a zealot behind the scenes. The more I smoked, the more I became the cigarette and it turns out no one outsmarts the cigarette.

    Sandra had moved out years ago, Jason started a new life running a pumpkin patch (but I may have missed the sarcasm when he originally said that.) The more and more my greatest and truest and realist friends fled from the scene, the more this house became a sty. I read House of Leaves and couldn't get through 100 pages before realizing that this wasn't about me. I looked out the window of Natya's "second room" (she claimed a second, after Dylan moved) and thought I saw a turkey sandwich outside, out there. A few moments passed and I decided to retrieve it.

    I couldn't stop overthinking about the contents of my pockets. I shuffled, readjusted and gained control, before finally leaving the door, secure and one person. In the wild, twisted twilight, I knew that the war was over. I went over to the sandwich and a giant dog zoomed at me. I couldn't believe what was happening (maybe because of my ADD), but I thought he just wanted the sandwich. When I came to my senses, after many moments I would rather forget, hitting and kicking, I had a painful scar on my head and could feel an angel looking after me, like I was a small babe in the world. All this was easy to rub off. What wasn't was the inevitability of losing control like that in a serious situation. I could go off like a gun, join the infantry, and yet all this fiery dispassion never made sense in the context of my very tepid grasp on life. 

    Inside, everyone was watching old Japanese commercials and wearing overblown lounge wear, one of the newer roomies even in a golf polo. These guys would one day be my best friends, but that's another story for another time.

Natya, same day

    My mother had bought Christmas presents for three of her friends the year before and I had somehow wound up with all three of them. Actually, I took them for myself rather thoughtlessly. One was a "rocket notebook" and I had this romantic vision that I'd become an accounting assistant overnight with it. I felt embarrassed, now, seeing all the entries about, "butt still tight after workout" (who'd I think I was, Anne Charlotte Robertson?). I had a tab left open asking me if I wanted to continue applying for the role of "Cake Decorator".

(The night I wrote down my workout at the reception area at the Hyatt, a man approached me and asked if I knew who Chantel Ackerman was. As I hesitated to recite just one of her films, y'know, the famous one, he screamed an inch from my face and said I had to be on it. I thought that was a ridiculous gesture, but I took it seriously by pretending he was a Maltese who'd been through it all).

    Anyhow, dispensable as it were, nothing could change last night and how I got married and basically saw my entire future in one molly excursion. While I fumbled around the haphazardly named "Broadway St.," it was like I could have actually been in New York. I had no sense of whether I would miss my job and I didn't care either. I was growing up way too fast and the little pinion of my heart had to make it slow down. I did not fear missing out, I did not even fear turning into a late-Cookie Mueller. My impulsive decision to get married was part of a project to let go and play with the elements of my life like a fingerprinting. Somehow I felt too embarrassed to really preach it, but my shiny shoes, buckling together, knew the secret, all too well.

    This little village of houses on Emerald Grove sang out, and I could hear the patchwork of people, now living, in that choir. I remember fiddling around, for the first two hours of the trip, with a ballerina in a music box and, oh, how it spoke to me... The bijou fragility, the possibility that I could be on top of the silver globe like that. The neighbours' screaming baby was the reminder that all this would end and there was nowhere to go anyway. I was rolling by myself and George was playing something on the Wii, where the Miis would clap and spectators would slowly drop out. I felt so stupid watching him with the biggest, twisted smile on my face. Yet, I felt cute, knowing I was cute. He could have been my bigger brother, my first crush, the president and all he had to do was swing that Wiimote that he, truly, wanted nothing to do with. All was an object of my attraction, written in an arcane universe, just for me. 

    When I called home, to see if my dad would notice me, they were watching Ed Sullivan re-runs and I could hear through the tube,

"Tonight... We have a very special announcement. Now, I want everyone to hear this and I want no one backing out. It's extremely important that everybody in America year this message...,"

    And I could hear my mom whispering,

"Yessss," at the end of Ed's sentences. I didn't even understand what they were watching, quite, but I knew her hands were raised up and all of them, in there, would be shooting at the red scare, soon enough.

    I asked my dad for one inspirational quote that would summarize his life's teachings and, with his old farmer's face, he spoke,

"Eat your peas," shaking. And I thought,

"Oh dad, how could you give into whatever that is..."

    Love had long passed me by and was now whirring around the subway system at supersonic intervals, turning 'round Giza and passing through Bombay, and again. As these very thoughts gargled around in my head a while, I felt like an old lady, knitting away. The way it was: the way it had been. Out of time, out of sight. I was going to be very late for work. Think they'd fire me? I asked the boy sitting next to me and he looked sternly in his ill-fitting headphones. People I loved kept messaging me on Facebook messenger and I rudely swiped away the notifications. Love was all around, the jittery and empty city meant nothing. Everything was yoga and I always had myself to do a twirl, if ever in doubt that anyone would be around. Alison by Slowdive kept scrobbling on my phone despite the fact I was listening to Nephilim.

[abundantgraceandivorylace]

AND THAT’S A WRAP, ST. LOUIS!

🌷

what a crazy seven + a half months it’s been. well friends...i’m all about being transparent + real on here, for i hope that sharing a part of my journey can maybe help others. i’ve been spending most of 2021 in missouri to heal from the hell that is my eating disorder, something that’s had a grip on me since the age of 12. before may, i found myself drowning in my disorder, not caring if it swallowed me whole. it was all consuming + i was the furthest thing from present. i was living a rag doll existence. i hit a point where i knew that treatment was what i needed to do. the girl who boarded a plane with a one way ticket back in may was terrified. terrified on the emotions i would have to face + feel. terrified of the physical changes i would have to endure. terrified of the lack of control i would have. but during my time here, i have truly changed for the better. i have made true, authentic connections with people who understand exactly what i’m going through, people i hope to have in my life for a long time despite physical distance. i have embraced healing + facing my emotions no matter how messy. i have healed a crucial relationship through family therapy. i started to work with the best therapist i’ve ever had + who i get to continue to work with outpatient. i began to nourish not just my body, but my mind + soul. there have been lots of tears, reverting back to other behaviors that are harmful + dusting off the cobwebs of the dark corridors of my brain...but there has also been a shit ton of growth, healing as well as embracing life again. i’m so thankful for the clinical staff, friends + family who have supported me along the way. i’m grateful for all the cards + messages of encouragement. they were light in the hardest 7.5 months of my life. so today i leave treatment + head home, embracing 2022 with hope of the good that is to come. for the first time in a while, there is hope. thank you, st. louis. i will always hold a special place in my heart for you as the city that helped me heal.

[skinfeeler]

it's been an interesting couple days since my girlfriend left, in terms of what my lifestyle looked like.

while they were here i was basically constantly busy with administrativia and larping as a tour guide, looking at the proximity of things we wanted to see in the city and paths we could take between them, booking tickets to museums and communicating with friends who work at bars and restaurants i know to see when they'll be in, and just in general a whole lot of planning routes through public transit to get where we wanted to. not that i did everything, they mostly did the cooking, which was very nice. but this post isn't about that.

it's about the fact that obviously, this ended up supplanting my usual lifestyle and crowding out some of my fixed routines, which once fixed tend to continue uninterrupted for weeks but in the past always took like, half a month to get back into after any kind of interruption. i couldn't order my eating, exercising, and sleep routines the way i was used to and which i know work best for me and my life goals because for a bit i had entirely different goals.

productivity gurus often talk about the difference between motivation and discipline: relying on 'motivation' in order to get anything done on a persistent basis is setting yourself up to fail, basically. i agree with them on that, lifting weights because it's 'lifting weights day' and lifting weights is just what i do on lifting weights day means that i don't have to feel euphoric about what i'm doing in the moment to reap the benefits of consistent and frequent exercise, and how this also helps me eat and sleep well. same for grooming, sleeping, eating, as well as the routines surrounding my work actually. adherence to this kind of habit and how difficult they are to break can also be trained, and this is what they call discipline.

i feel like they're missing something though.

after my girlfriend left, my room was a mess and i was feeling the effects of not having exercised consistently— although we did get more than 10k steps in most days, however much that fucking means. usually it takes me a while to build up my routines again because eating well kind of depends on sleeping well and exercising well... and so on and so forth. this time though, it was much easier.

after taking a nap once i had dropped them off at the airport, i took a look at my room and it looked fucking intolerable. i remembered what it felt like when college was in session, and how while having everything out of place is tolerable when i'm not trying to attain academical success/financial independence, any day of work at all is aggravating as shit when something takes five min to find instead of five seconds. so i threw all the clothes that had been saturated with sweat during the heatwave into the washing machine. in terms of physical performance, i could actually notice a passively lower level of energy, which i really, really disliked. so when on day two my housemates asked me to join them on a run, i did.

now my room is clean, i'm exercising on a daily basis again (minus my two rest days a week), i'm eating well, i'm back to my old biphasic rhythm, i'm managing to do work, and tomorrow i'm going to make some plans to socialise maybe.

if the first two stages are motivation and discipline, i'm not sure what i'd call this. one could frame it in a negative way and i reckon some people in our mileu would, as pure dissatisfaction or something, a neurotic drive. and yeah, it did feel bad, not being satisfied is, i suppose, on a purely superficial level a bad feeling. but really, i'd call it awareness. i was deeply conscious of what i'd lost track of. maybe this kind of sense only really is instilled after both hitting rock bottom — to be clear, that wasn't the past week, that was like, months ago when things were much, much worse — but also having reaped the benefits of this lifestyle. when i had never worked out before, i had no concept of how much exercise would improve my life, i saw it as an investment that would only pay dividends through physical safety. what it ended up doing was putting my disordered eating in a frame where i no longer starved myself, and making all the little tasks in life just a little bit easier, and allow me, for the first time in my life, to be on bottom when i went to the beach and i did that game with my girlfriend and my housemates where you like, stack on top of each other and try to push the other tower into the water.

but now i know what works. and now i no longer depend on neurotic habitualism in order to have my life in order, and i can afford to be much more flexible in my routines for when friends need help, when i've got a special occasion i'm pumped about, or when i just want to relax for a day even if it isn't a scheduled rest day.

i am empowered to live my life well, every day.

[serendipitous-magic]

Question Game - AKA Oversharing Hour

I was tagged by @the-angry-pixie​! And I’m a chronic oversharer, so this was fun. I’ll put most of it under a read more line because there’s a LOT.

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? 

Black. Dunno why.

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? 

City city city city city city city city. I’m already going fucking batshit as it is, trapped in suburbia. I want to be able to actually do things, anything. Anything other than just being around the house and / or work. (And I felt like this before the pandemic started.) If you live in the city you can walk out your door and be somewhere else within like 5 minutes. A city park, a cafe, a train/subway, a local attraction, a museum, an artist’s booth, an outdoor market, etc. etc. 

Living in suburbia is like, well, to go literally anywhere you have to get into your car first and drive like 10 minutes minimum to get out of the neighborhood, and then if you want to go anywhere that’s not the grocery store you have to drive 20 minutes to get to another area of town, and then once you get there that’s the only place you can be without getting into your car again and getting a nice shot of anxiety from having to drive in traffic and have aggressive drivers roar up on your ass because you’re going 5mph above the speed limit and they want to be going 15mph above, and god help you if you have to merge, and oh by the way this is your only option to get around because public transit doesn’t really exist in any useful way in Big Suburbia, and nothing in within walking distance of your house except like 2 playgrounds and maybe one (1) gas station. (I hate it here lmao)

If I was trapped in the country I’d probably be chill with it for about a week, and enjoy the break, and the on day 8 I’d snap and go on a murdering spree out of stir-craziness.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? 

I want to learn German and eventually be fluent in it. But since I’ve already started trying to learn and I don’t know if that counts, I’ll say cinematography. As in the actual working of the camera and lighting and all that. I can dream up some pretty striking images but actually getting the camera to do the settings needed to capture them is another story entirely.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? 

Nope. I drink coffee and tea both, and I don’t put any kind of sweetener in either of them. I used to put a shitton of sugar in my coffee and honey in my tea, and then I had some mild eating disorder struggles in college and I never got back in the habit of putting stuff in my hot drinks after that. It just tastes wrong now, after being used to plain black coffee.

5. What was your favourite book as a child? 

Either the Harry Potter series or The Hobbit. My grandma would take care of me a lot when I was really little because my parents both worked full time to support us, and every single time I was at her house she’d sit us down at the dining room table and read something to me. Not Junie B. Jones or anything, either, but real, big, thick books. I loved the shit out of Harry Potter and The Hobbit; I would request them repeatedly. We pretty much went back and forth; we’d read Harry Potter, and then The Hobbit, and then when a new Harry Potter book came out we’d read that, and then The Hobbit again, and so on and so forth.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? 

Showers. I love baths, they’re magical, but ain’t nobody got time for that unless it’s a special occasion. I got too much shit to do to spend an hour lying in the bathtub.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? 

Vampire. Purely on the basis that if I was immortal maybe I’d finally have time to get my to-do list done and accomplish things. I’d miss the sunlight though.

8. Paper or electronic books? 

Paper. Here’s the thing, I really want to enjoy ebooks, but they just don’t hold my attention at all. Maybe I’m too conditioned by the internet to have a short attention span when I’m looking at a screen, idk.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? 

I have a dark gray hoodie from the Seattle Aquarium from when I went on a road trip across America with my BFF a few years ago. It’s still my absolute favorite thing. I also enjoy my hiking boots a lot. (I wear them all the time, really they should just be called “everyday boots” haha)

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it?

I like my name and I would also like to start going by something different. Probably just because I’m a restless soul and I feel the best (and least trapped) when I’m on the move or when things are changing. The second I get somewhere I want to be somewhere else. That’s just how I am. Gwen is a cool name (I’ve personally met maybe 3 people in my whole life with the same name, face-to-face), but there’s a lot attached to that nickname that I don’t necessarily want to carry with me when I eventually escape my hometown and start down a new path.

11. Who is a mentor to you? 

A friend and former professor whom I usually refer to online as Producer Man. He’s a producer (as you may have guessed) who kind of took me under his wing after I was in one of his film classes in college. We work together on film projects now and he’s teaching me bit-by-bit (usually by way of long, rambling, tangential stories / lectures) about the industry. He’s a really good guy. Like, he for sure has a case of Old White Guy sometimes, but his heart is absolutely in the right place. “He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit.” He’s always leaving $10 tips at coffee places and working himself to the bone to get his students connected to jobs and internships that will help them with their careers. 

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? 

Yes, my stories. Actually, “famous” is not the right word. It’s just that fame is so tightly associated with success in our society. I want to be successful. Whether I’m widely known or not is pretty inconsequential to me. I want to make stories and I want them to have an impact. Books, film, etc. It’s about as simple as that.

13. Are you a restless sleeper? 

Oh yeah. I have trouble  sleeping as much as I should because I usually kind of jerk awake in the morning with this vague feeling that I forgot something or that I’m late for something. Also I stay up later than I should because I’m a night owl, and yet I like being up early because early mornings are great. And usually if I dream at all it’s something kind of stressful, like I dream that I forgot something important or did something wrong. I’m a Stressed Bean. 

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? 

I think so, yeah. I’m pretty obsessed with the idea of romance (I mean look at my OTPs), but heteronormativity got me fucked up enough that I’m bad at actually navigating real romantic feelings or relationships because society never prepared me for The Gay.

15. Which element best represents you? 

Fire, probably.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? 

My mom. We fight a lot and there tends to be a lot of tension between us. It’s a long complicated story. It boils down to, she really hurt me when I came out as not-straight at 15 and she lost all of my trust and even though she’s working on being less homophobic we’re still kind of trying to repair that divide seven years later.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? 

Dude, I miss everyone. I’m an introvert and I’d love to be at a big party right now. I miss socialization. (As does everyone.) 

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. 

The first time I experienced deja vu, I was about eehhh 6? And I legitimately believed, for several years of my life, that I had future-predicting abilities. Like, supernatural-level future-predicting abilities. Because I didn’t really know what deja vu was, so I thought, every time it happened, that I had already ~seen~ that moment in my dreams or something. 🤣

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? 

Hm. (My immature ass brain yells “DICK.” No, brain. Those were dark heteronormative times. Also, grow up.) 

Probably some of the sushi in Seattle. I actually love sushi, it’s just that when it has full-on legs and eyeballs I start getting a little squeamish. I like the rolls and the kind where there’s some fish meat laid out on a nice little bed of rice, that’s delicious. But when they brought out the whole shrimp with legs still attached, I was like “How in the (redacted) am I going to chew / swallow that.”

20. What are you most thankful for? 

That I happened to be living with family when this pandemic hit. I was supposed to move out (and across the country, actually) as of... like 4 days ago, as it happens. That was the plan. Plane ticket was gonna be booked for 7/15/20. Obviously, things didn’t quite work out that way, because of the pandemic and a few other reasons. But I can’t imagine if I had been in an apartment living with roommates, or in an apartment on my own struggling to get by, when this happened. A lot of people couldn’t pay rent and lost their homes. I was very, very lucky to be where I was, when I was, and very lucky that I have family who let me stay in their house pretty much indefinitely while this clusterfuck of a year happens.

21. Do you like spicy food? 

Yes! I looooove spicy thai food especially. I miss the massaman curry from a local Thai place so much 😭

22. Have you ever met someone famous? 

Um. Maybe? I met Veronica Roth once at an author talk in the library where I work, although it was before I worked there. And I met some guy from New Zealand who’s famous for his sword fighting skills because my dad does sword fighting stuff. Don’t remember his name though.

23. Do you keep a diary or journal? 

Yep. I have to write down everything or I forget. (I often say I have the memory of a goldfish.) Also, I have this compulsion to record and preserve my experiences in life, because I feel like our time on Earth is so fleeting and if I don’t write down what’s important to me, I’ll forget it and lose it.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil? 

Pen. Pencil gets smudged.

25. What is your star sign? 

Scorpio, which is ironic because they’re supposed to be ~hyper sexual~ I guess, and I’m like gray-ace or something in that zone.

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? 

Crunchy. Who eats soggy cereal? Are you okay? Do you need help? This is an intervention. 

27. What would you want your legacy to be? 

My stories. Life and sentience, as we experience it, is made up of just that: experience. And I read somewhere that, on some level, the human brain doesn’t differentiate that much between real life experiences and fictional experiences. I think that’s true. If you read or watch or hear the right story, it can really touch you and change the way you see life, or even change the way you live life. Stories have an incredible amount of power, both in individual people’s lives and in larger society. A huge amount of power. I want to be able to give people experiences that will Enrich Their Lives (do I sound like a lifestyle coach yet? 🤦🏼‍♀️), but also stories that actively do good in society. Positive representation, body positivity/neutrality, diversity, healthy relationships (Hollywood has a real problem with that). Hope. It’s the best thing I can think to give society, and storytelling is what I love to do.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? 

I love reading. I wish I did it more. Part of my problem is that I get caught up in the hectic Rat Race of modern society and I never feel like I have time to sit down with a book for hours. Another problem of mine is that I start too many things at once, meaning I currently have like 5-10 (I lost count) books that I started reading, and I want to finish all of them, which means no progress ever gets done on any of them.

I last finished The Goldfinch, and I am currently working on The Secret History, Good Omens, Dune, a book my dad wrote, Directing Actors, Shot by Shot, The Way of Kings and I forget what else.

29. How do you show someone you love them? 

Physical affection, acts of service, words of affirmation, quality time, and gifts, in that order. If I’m close to someone, whether romantically or not, I want all the affection. And I’m kind of dying in quarantine. 

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? 

Depends. I usually don’t put any in, because it’s just gonna water down the drink and get in the way of drinking it (you know when the ice attacks your face?), but I don’t really mind ice in my drinks.

31. What are you afraid of? 

Helplessness. I Have Control Issues. ✌️ Also stagnation.

32. What is your favourite scent? 

Amber. Or any scent that’s kind of autumn-y. You know what I mean. Some other examples include dryer sheets, wood smoke, cigarette smoke (my big sister used to smoke a long long time ago, and although I never saw her do it, I still associate the scent with her), pine resin, rain, that Mahogany Woods scent from Bath and Bodyworks.

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? 

If they introduce themselves as Pam I call them Pam. If they introduce themselves as Mr. Brown I call them Mr. Brown.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? 

 If “money is not a factor” means I have an infinite amount of money to spend as I wish, then: buy land, build film studio complex on land, found company, hire fellow creatives, make movies.

If “money is not a factor” just means that I don’t have to work 40 hours a week to afford rent, then: move to Chicago, rent a nice studio apartment, write stories, maybe work 15 hours a week at a used bookstore or coffee shop to get me out of the house and socialize. Go to museums, go to the park, walk along Lake Michigan, go to gay bars, ride the train, brave the Illinois winters, own a cat, paint, play guitar. Build my actual career on writing / storytelling. Probably also do some filmmaking.

Alternatively: buy an RV (not like an American Trailer Park shitty RV, I’m talking the NOICE ones), buy good film equipment, be a freelancer, live in RV driving around to wherever the next filming location is. Life is a road trip and I’m doing what I love. Writing, storytelling, filmmaking. My home would travel with me. Writing in cafes; roadside attractions; early mornings on the road with coffee in the cup holder as the sun comes up; being able to go anywhere to film; always experiencing something new.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? 

I’ve lived in a landlocked state my whole life, so I guess swimming pools. And, listen, I CANNOT get water in my mouth at the beach without wondering exactly how many kids have peed (or worse) in that water. (I know that’s a thing with pools too, but pools get cleaned.)

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? 

Wonder what some poor European is doing in America right now. But if it was $50, I’d probably yell “DID ANYONE DROP THIS?” and then take it if no one speaks up.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? 

A few times, yeah.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? 

Grades are not the end-all-be-all. Skip some homework assignments to spend time with friends. Skip class sometimes. I’m serious. If you make school your top priority, even over your own personal life, you will come away with good grades and a lot of regret and missed opportunities. Learning is HELLA important, and very very little of it happens inside a school building. Get a 15 hour weekend or after-school job in high school, befriend your coworkers, and have fun with it. Use your paychecks however you want. Join a school club - one that you’re actually interested in. Do stupid shit. Light your textbooks on fire after graduation or go to the 24 hour Wendy’s at 2am with your friends or kiss that person you met at summer camp or sleep on the porch because it’s too hot to sleep inside. Be smart and safe, but follow your whims. If you let yourself fall into routine, apathy will poison you.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? 

I already have a couple small ones, but the one I want next is a four-leaf clover. Don’t know where. Maybe my right inner wrist or maybe an ankle. Or like behind my ear. Luck has saved me so many times. (See above, with how I happened to be living with family when COVID hit.)

40. What can you hear now? 

Swamp cooler downstairs, the clock ticking in my office, cars outside, people moving around the house. I’m surprised the neighbor kids aren’t shrieking their absolute heads off as per the usual. 

41. Where do you feel the safest? 

When I’m alone and unobserved. 

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? 

TMI warning, but I absolutely despise public bathrooms. How am I expected to pee when there’s somebody sitting like three (3) feet away, with only a partial wall between us, hearing everything that’s going on? My fight or flight response simply will not allow it. It’s too awkward and therefore Not Safe. Either that public restroom has to be empty except for me, or it has to be so loud and bustling that ain’t nobody hearing anything. Anything in-between and I’m in hell.

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be? 

The ‘80s. Let’s be honest, even that far back makes my life (as a woman, and as a gay person) hella difficult. But, consider this: it’s the ‘80s. Furthermore, consider this: a part-time job might have actually supported me and paid rent back then 😱 Holy fucking shit. Sign me up. I just wouldn’t want to go any further than than like 1980, because again: lesbian. Being a woman in the past = even harder than it is today, being gay in the past = even harder than it is today, being a gay woman in the past = oh no.

44. What is your most used emoji? 

In order of descending frequency:

😂🙄😊😁🤦🏼‍♀️👀😬🌈🤷🏼‍♀️😙

45. Describe yourself using one word. 

Creative

46. What do you regret the most?

Wasting my entire teenage experience. (See #38.) I did quite literally nothing with my life except homework for like 18 years. If I had taken even a tenth as much time for myself as I did for school, I would be so much farther along as a person today.

47. Last movie you saw? 

In the theaters? ........ uh. Shit, I don’t actually remember. It’s been like 5 months. (As it has for everyone.) But the last movie I watched was Lights Out, because I’ve been watching the director’s youtube channel. You could tell it was low-budget and that the director was still kind of finding his stride, but it had a lot of heart behind it and the creators clearly gave a fuck, which made it enjoyable. I am firmly in the camp of “not everything has to be a Magnum Opus or have a multi-billion dollar budget to be a good movie.” If I engaged with it and got some sort of emotional experience out of it, and if it had a good message, I consider it a good movie.

48. Last tv show you watched? 

I don’t usually watch a whole lot of TV shows (who has the time?) but I think the last thing I watched was either The Witcher or that new Unsolved Mysteries miniseries on Netflix. Oh and I was watching Dead to Me because I just love Linda Cardellini’s face and I want to wrap Judy up in a blanket and cuddle the shit out of her and protect her from all things 🥺 My precious beautiful unstable sweet murder baby.

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. 

Apapanic. It’s where you’re so stressed about things that half of your brain is panicking but the other half is so overwhelmed that it circled all the way back around to being calm to the point of apathy, so you just kind of sit there like

[ruwithmeguys]

I was asked recently: do you enjoy writing for ll as much as you do for Felicity? You write Felicity like you can hear her thoughts. But then you go and write ll’s character and you manage to keep her IN character without making her bitchy and without pulling her to bits. Do you like writing for her?

Beyond being hugely flattered – SO FLATTERED, MY GOODNESS – and mildly sceptical – I’ve never thought I was anything special in terms of writing ability but I do love keeping characters IN character whilst placing them in new situations – I can answer with complete confidence that, yes. I like writing for LL’s character.

I like knowing just how skewed her perception is. I enjoy writing that perception because in many ways, it’s incredibly indulgent. In reality, no one who wants to be loved and who wants a family should think like LL does. It’s a point of view that’s singular and therefore, interesting. But after writing for her, I truly don’t think the writers knew what to do with their creation, and she was a creation. Just because her name is LL doesn’t make her any less of a creation than Sara. Comic LL? Well, she’s married to a cop; ergo the name Lance. This cop is abusive. Her personality is also very different and she isn’t a lawyer. The writers tried very hard to make LL morally perfect but destroyed it when they realised she’d have to compromise said morals to love Oliver. So they gave her a set of standards that no one could reach and yet had her break them every time Oliver was mentioned. However instead of showing real guilt or shame or SOMETHING that would enable her some character progression, they replaced it wit superiority. It made her a selfish character who were supposed to believe is the opposite.

But you see, well written characters – characters with substance, who aren’t there for a plot purpose but as a defined personality on a show – can be selfless and still do selfish things. They can compromise their integrity and still be morally righteous. They can be good and yet see the virtue in violence.

I give thee Felicity Smoak.

Now KC did her own damage to LL in S1 – she was very determined to make her into something she wasn’t too fast because she clearly believed this show had been created to turn her into a mask wielding superhero who’s better than everyone. But the writers are the main problem – them and the exec’s at CW who threw an actress at the show because she had a contract with them. She was SO not right for the character, but they didn’t care. She’d starred in Supernatural so her name had merit.

(just a hypothetical: if Emily had been cast as LL, would she have possessed the skill to portray the character in a way that could make us like her? I think so, though the writers made this obscenely hard with their contradictory writing. Most would have a lot of difficulty. Still, I’m almost certain that if she HAD been, Oliver would have married the BC: a BC a foot shorter with pretty blue eyes… you know like in the comics *eye roll* Her COMIC BOOK fans ignore even the comic book details.)

ANYWAY!

It’s kind of fascinating really: I made sure to watch the episodes and ingest everything about the characters I write. I don’t always do this and it’s been a while so it’s time for a re-watch (any excuse really) but a few things became incredibly clear once I started. I have a few of Felicity’s habits: I talk to myself in tangents of weirdness and get flustered/blush super easily. I’m not a genius by any definition (mostly I'm a gigantic dumbass) but I wear glasses with my hair in a ponytail and I’m not generally the first person seen in a crowded room so to speak, plus I overthink/second guess everything I say. Like Oliver, I blame myself for everything and worry too much. I’m more solitary than most. I want to save everyone but have no idea how to. I love deeply.

I don’t love easily.

I’m not like Olicity. But when I write, I sort of become them. Or I attempt to. I feel my way through each scene and it becomes quite personal, which would explain the sentence breaks where I intermingle thought and movement with descriptions and speech.

Then I started writing for ll… now, I like to remain unbiased when I analyse a character. I don’t like ll. I don’t appreciate the way she was written in any season – I’m referring to E1 LL, E2 I’ll talk about later – nor did I enjoy KC’s horrific portrayal. It’s no secret, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be fair to her character.

I came up with three literary explanations of her character and this is one of them: the medium between the other two, from ll's point of view (please remember I am at work and therefore cannot write as well as I would like) -

She’s ordinary. Totally ordinary. A normal person who lives, works, eats, sleeps. We can empathise.

She’s part of a nuclear family and she knows her family loves her. She loves them. They’re not a perfect family but they are a good one.

She has an over exaggerated sense of how attractive and intelligent she is, exacerbated by how many people have told her that she’s smart and beautiful. She knows because she’s been told: she’s never questioned her looks or her intelligence and it’s the start of all the bad really. It was reinforced by becoming friends with the two richest kids in the city.

So she’s never had a reason to doubt herself. Not ever. There’s nothing in the world that ever could.

As for how this affects the story:

Through illogical and extremely unlikely circumstances – never explained for two reasons: it wasn’t important enough to the writers and they wrote themselves into many a corner with ll’s character as they tried to fit her into a universe that didn’t want to house their forced creation – she became good friends with Tommy Merlyn and Oliver Queen.

Oliver Queen makes her do the one thing she’s never done: doubt herself.

Surely she’s pretty enough for him to choose her. Smart enough. Good enough. Strong enough. Enough. She’s ENOUGH for him. They fit each other. He’s the Romeo to her Juliette. She’s aiming high and look, he’s right there: her partner along the way to the top. Her partner and her WAY. Her financer. Her ego boost. Her meal ticket. Her proof that she’s ENOUGH. Her proof that she’s relevant. That she’s BETTER-

THAN. HER. SISTER.

Because, gosh: LL’s world is dictated, her entire sense of self validated, by the existence of Sara Lance. I kid you not. I found this in the show… and it should make you feel sympathy for her. Should make you care. But she destroys our ability to give a crap because of how she handles everything with her sister.

Sara, who is daddy’s girl.

Sara who Oliver keeps leering over and not the older, better sister.

Sara who her mother sides with all the time.

Sara with the multitude of friends.

Sara with the better body.

Sara. Sara. Sara.

Why? Laurel does everything right: she follows the rules, does as she’s told, has become the role model. How does Sara keep BEATING her?

Is it… because Sara takes what she wants and gets away with it? She takes other people’s boyfriends - Laurel’s seen her do this (Arrow S1.5 comics) - she swindles her father for more allowance, her mother gives her free reign over the phone line… she’s selfish.

Well then, so shall LL be.

Suddenly Sara’s grounded-

And it WAS the right thing to do, Sara was too young and she didn’t want her heralded as a slut so soon. Ollie wouldn’t want anything to do with her anyway, but the way she throws herself at him is embarrassing, right?

-And the ‘Ollie Express’ is open season. He says yes. They have sex. Now she has him. She’s wanted by Ollie Queen and he’s settling down for HER. No one else and certainly not Sara. She’s beaten Sara and she’s assured a future for herself. His mother adores her. She fits in.

She can breathe freely again.

And Oliver, he’s so much more than people think: he’s sweet and kind- so what if he’s not that smart, she’s smart enough for the both of them. He’s reliable and honest. He makes her feels beautiful and wanted. All is right in the world. No matter what happens, she’ll always be the one who became Oliver’s first real girlfriend, because she’s special to him. She’s SPECIAL. She’s what he-

Except he’s having an affair behind her back.

With Sara.

Sara who she’d beaten.

Sara who isn’t as smart or as pretty or as EVERYTHING as LL.

Sara who’d gotten on a boat with her boyfriend.

She’s humiliated, but more than that… she’s confused. It’s nonsensical.

She’s everything. She’s perfect. She’s the ONE so… Oliver was happy. He was ready to move forwards with her. Why did he do this? Why does Sara keep beating her? She’s BETTER than Sara.

She’s better than all of them.

If they can't see that, see her... then why do they matter?

And then the realisation: she’s hard done to. She’s the scorned woman. She’s the one betrayed. She’s the one who’s grieving. She’s the one who deals with it in the best way. She’s the one who’ll walk out of this on top.

Oliver and Sara lost at sea? That’s nothing. NOTHING. She’s the one who got hurt and she never deserved it. They should have respected her. Should have loved her more. Ollie deserved to die at sea.

And so… an impetus is born: it generates into an unbreakable mind-set, separated from reality, one that we have to put up with until she dies. Literally.

Narcissism. It’s almost a disorder.

And it’s in the most impossible form: she sets a deliberately high standard for the world to attempt to reach and she gets to watch from up high as everyone tries to touch her seat. A standard that everyone must follow EXCEPT her. If anyone fails to meet it for whatever reason (and they always do), then they fail her expectations and therefore they fail her (this was admitted by KC herself, just fyi). They’re no longer good enough.

But she is though. She’s the ONLY one good enough. She loves her family, but she’s better than them. They’re all liars and stealers and selfish – Sara – betrayers – mom – neglecters – dad – cheaters and disappointments – Ollie – and unworthy – Tommy.

She doesn’t need them, not ever. How could she when she’s better? How could they ever meet her wavelength? How could they ever understand her mission, her heart, when they can’t meet her at the top?

But then her father, who can’t appreciate her because he isn’t capable of seeing her the way he should, makes her feel GUILT about her choice to be a DA.

Uh oh. Suddenly; she doesn’t sound righteous. She sounds like she’s becoming a lawyer for money-

NO. no, LL doesn’t do that, right? She’s better, so she can’t. She can’t fall beneath her FATHER’S set of standards because her own are so much better and she doesn’t have to meet her own because they’re for everyone else on the planet who are undeserving and have yet to face her justice. No one can outrun her justice, her standards.

Except herself.

But her father’s seen something in her, something twisted. The call of money and power and status and it’s a filthy thing isn’t it? Greed. Lust. Covetous.

She becomes the expert at coveting what others have, even as she judges them.

But she has to hide the filth: she’s better than her demons because she judges even them. Her father knows nothing. He doesn’t see her, so how could he? She’ll help him see her.

She joins CNRI to prove him wrong. She’s the pure one again whilst her father’s the alcoholic who can’t get over the daughter who left instead of adoring the daughter who stayed. The daughter who fights.

She sleeps with Tommy because she can, because she’s needy, because he’s Ollie’s best friend; the closest thing to the man she loves and hates and no one need ever know the notch she tied that night to her bed post.

Ollie did it with Sara after all. He could have had the bed post instead of just the notch. He died before he could realise that.

But it happens again and again for months and she has to admit, it’s thrilling aiming down. Obeying an urge for once and she needs the release: getting a job with CNRI immediately after law school instead of the requisite two years in a firm is impossible, but not for LL. Still, it’s tiring and it feels unrewarding, which is why she also needs the ego boost. She needs the validation, that it isn't all for nothing.

This way, she’s both fucking her past goodbye and giving it the finger.

She stops once she gets the job. Stepping stones, all of it. She doesn’t need Tommy, doesn’t need her father, doesn’t need law school anymore because she doesn’t obey the rules like everyone else HAS to.

When Oliver returns, she ignores him. He should have died: it was his punishment for forsaking their happiness.

He can’t touch her anymore; he can only watch from afar. She likes him watching. Likes him seeing exactly what he lost and can never have, what he destroyed.

Sara died because of him.

Her father became a drunk because of him.

Her mother left because of him.

She had to sleep with Tommy because of him.

All whilst he sunbathed on some island somewhere. And look, he doesn’t have to work to earn a living: he’s loaded. He doesn’t have to fight for anything, doesn’t have to strive or push like she does-

She’s envious. And she misses him. And if she misses him, he must miss her. They used to be so happy-

Wait… He suffered on the island?

He was punished?

If he suffered… does that mean he learned from his mistakes and that’s why he apologised?

He earned his stay on the island so maybe… he’s earned the right to forgiveness?

Suddenly he’s too tempting. She could have him again: he’s telling her she could. Oliver Queen, playboy billionaire, learned his lesson and wants her.

Of course he does.

She’s the best woman alive.

It’s the biggest ego boost of her life; a wave of chemicals that carries her away, that makes her kiss him. That scares her because she thought she was strong enough to not ant him again. EXCITEDLY because if he’s also the vigilante who went to HER for help-

But then… he reveals that he’s damaged and still a playboy and she has to retract once he fails her standards again.

A damaged man who won’t pursue her? Not her problem. She’s not interested. That man isn’t her Ollie. She'll check in again when he isn't quite so damaged.

Yet, even as Tommy worms into her, she keeps Oliver in mind.

It truly stuns her when he gives them his blessing. He… he was supposed to want her, to show reluctance.

Why does he look happy for them? She’s not.

He’s giving up the chance of them, and he’s SMILING?

How can he be? Doesn’t it torture him? She’s choosing his best friend over him, FEEL SOMETHING. FIGHT.

But he doesn't.

And he is changing, improving. Making waves - she’s taking notice.

So let him date lesser women, they won’t last and they DON’T.

HAH.

In the meantime, she’s fighting crime. The vigilante NEEDS her – he hasn’t asked anyone else for help: there’s only her. Tommy loves HER. Ollie loves her. Her father keeps butting in because he’s afraid for her safety and he’s realised just how prominent a figure she’s becoming, how important she is, but he’s too late to have a say in her life and he must watch her advance.

It all revolves around her now, as it should have before. She's the lead of her own story. They’re all realising how right she was, how they never should have put her second and not first. How they should have never made her feel less, and it’s ridiculous how she ever let them. They were all wrong.

She was made for greatness.

And then Ollie tells her everything she already knew about herself and it’s a king-size aphrodisiac: he thinks the same way she does. He knows she was always the best, always the ONE. He’s reached her level. And together they can soar above all others. They’re in love and will evolve and will lead the city into the future together. It's all slotting into place.

But he’s not her; he’s not righteous so she can ignore him when he gives her solid advice about staying out of the Glades. He’ll learn that she knows better, is better. That the world makes way for her and not the other way around-

Tommy dies.

It’s not because of the way she thinks. It's not because she was wrong. It’s NOT.

It was his choice, not hers. She doesn’t have to listen, but he should have. She never wanted him to come get her, she was waiting for Oliver.

And Oliver does come to her apartment: they reminisce. They’re together and that’s all that matters, so she starts planning. He’ll move in with her, there’ll be a marriage and move into the mansion-

Ollie leaves.

Again.

He left. He LEFT. HE-

No, she IS his ONE and ONLY. SHE IS. But the Hood and Malcolm ruined everything. It’s their fault Tommy died, that Ollie left. It wasn't because she was wrong or that she wasn't/isn't enough.

Their fault, not hers.

So why… does she feel guilty?

She knows really, but she pushes it back, away. Admitting to it would irrevocably damage her belief system.

And… she’s always right. And because she’s right, she leads a righteous charge against the hood, because it’s all his fault. Tommy died, ollie left, she’s feeling guilty and she keeps drinking- it’s all someone else’s fault!

Except it’s not.

It’s hers.

She'd been wrong.

Her world view crashes in on itself.

Nothing happened the way it was supposed to. She has no defence because she should have never needed one. That’s what being superior means.

Drugs and alcohol. How the mighty have fallen. No one can know… but even if they do, it doesn’t matter because she’s allowed to grieve like this. It’s grieving. Not shame. She's allowed to drink and change and be self-destructive. And everyone else doesn’t get it, they aren’t being fair.

Tommy dies.

Ollie left again.

She loses her job.

Her best friend gets a position as DA, well she’s not her best friend anymore: how dare she achieve greater. Johanna was supposed to help her, not step past her. Instead, LL is left behind and if her friend won't help her, then what good is she? She doesn’t need Johanna; she doesn’t need anyone.

She’s stronger. Better.

But then Sara comes back…

Sara died. It was her punishment. She’s not serving her punishment anymore. And she's come back, looking like she'd been on a six year pleasure cruise. That isn't fair at all. She’s unworthy. She ruined LL’s life. Her death was justice. How can the source of all her problems be alive…

And beautiful

Vibrant

Intelligent

Attractive to Oliver

Beloved by her father- her father who turned against her again in favour of Sara

Sara who went through the worst and resurfaced out untouched. Clean. As if SHE IS stronger, better. More.

How can I be like that?

She can’t.

Somewhere, deep down… she knows she can’t.

And she’s humbled by Sara who made her see how much she’d fallen… and for now, Sara can be the better of the two. She can pick up the slack and LL can watch, proud of her baby sister. She can give herself a break and compare others to her sister. Measure them by Sara’s measuring stick.

But it won’t be long at all until she’s BACK. Until she’s just as bright.

Until she’s better than Sara.

Until Sara needs her.

Until her father needs her.

Until Oliver needs her, because he stopped looking at her when she fell from on high.

She wants to return, to be part of that world.

But Sara is killed before she can become as beautiful. And it’s so clear that becoming as beautiful is impossible for LL. It too hard to digest that Sara is gone: Sara, the perfect fruition of a Lance daughter. The perfect her. The version of her that LL wished she'd been. So she’ll take on the mantle to honour Sara…

And in becoming Sara, she’s able to be more again. Be better again. Get back on that high saddle once more and she’s missed it up there. It feels right. It feels REALLY good. She’s been watching and learning… and her covetous nature had never died. She can’t be as bright as Sara.

So she’ll just become darker. A better Canary, never mind that canaries aren't dark.

She’ll wear Sara’s suit but she’ll be more. She’ll own it and make it her own, because this was always meant to be. It was never supposed to be Sara.

SHE is the justice you can’t run from.

This is the world she was made for. Oliver’s world. It was meant to be. So what if he’s angry at her presence: it’s because he cares about her, because he loves her. She'll fight him for a spot. He let Sara fight with him because he didn’t love her as much, but he loves LL too much. That’s why they aren’t together. Sometimes it’s just too painful to risk.

And it’s the best therapy. No more drugs. It’s addictive and it’s painful, but it’s better than anything else- in fact, it’s better than sex. Better than Oliver-

Oliver… Left?

With Felicity?

Because… he just wants her. HER. Out of everyone. He’s casting aside the hood… for another woman.

He and ll: they're supposed to fighting together, THAT’S how this works.

Then it’s just a phase. He’ll return and fight and realise he can’t live without the hood. He can’t without LL.

Except it’s not working, her fighting. She’s not changing the city so much as watching over it. She’s not moving forward. There’s a void.

There’s no more Sara.

She needs Sara. She needs Sara more than Ollie. The world made more sense with Sara. She might be the BC but Sara showed her the way. Her compass is gone. Her light is gone. And now LL is lost. If Sara’s back, she’ll feel better. There’ll no more void. No more emptiness. And maybe her life can WORK again.

And it’s okay, because she needs it. It’s okay to use Thea, because they’re friends and LL is loved by all. It's okay if disturbing the dead because, she wants it badly enough. It’s okay that Sara kills someone because it’s for the greater good: it’s for LL.

And with Sara alive somewhere, Oliver being with someone else doesn’t feel so bad. They’re soul mates after all, maybe one day…

And then he and Felicity break up and it’s PERFECT: no more Felicity in the basement, they don’t need her for him to stare at and Sara is alive. Oliver is TRAINING her. HE needs HER. Trusts her. LOVES her. WANTS HER.

So she suggests sex and-

He… is totally unreceptive. Isn’t… remotely interested… isn’t even remotely forward.

But… he’s in love with her and no longer tied down to Felicity. This should work. It’s been leading to this, right?

She has it all: she’s queen of the basement, Felicity is elsewhere and it doesn’t matter – so what if Thea isn’t talking to her, if Sara is out of the country. She and Oliver will fight crime together and maybe he’ll learn to love her again. Maybe he’ll-

Never. Love. Her. Not the way she loves him.

Because there’s just NOTHING there for him with her. He's alone even when he's with her and she knows what that's like.

Maybe he never could reach high enough to her again.

Maybe he knows he’ll never be good enough…

Or maybe... she’s just that conceited and Felicity… Felicity is just THAT wonderful,  that necessary to him because she is, isn’t she? She was there when LL wasn’t:

Felicity believed when LL didn’t

Felicity cared when LL didn’t

Felicity led him to places LL couldn’t

Felicity is, in many ways, stronger than LL and Sara combined and that truth stings

Felicity changed him without trying to

Felicity made him better… and ll can already see the cracks in him where Felicity’s absence has hurt him.

Without Felicity, Oliver will fall: LL's presence won't stop that.

Without Felicity, the city will crumble… because in the end, ll’s just a tiny pawn in a huge movement that she hasn’t contributed much to and she admits this finally to herself and to Oliver. The dirty truth.

It was all to feel alive, not to SAVE lives. It was all for her. But that doesn’t mean she’ll just let Oliver live without her because it’s thanks to her that he got on that boat: she helped create him! She’s responsible. She’s the ALBATROSS and she will never leave him. She changed his life forever: she left her indelible hand-print: SHE IS IMPORTANT DAMMIT.

The most important.

FLATLINE.

The end.

O_O

Yeah.

There's a less harsh explanation for LL:

She’s defensive due to the bad way she was treated after believing that her life was perfect, to her own detriment. She doesn’t have the kind of personality others can enjoy and rather than try to gain friends, she decides to simply be herself no matter how she comes across.

And there’s a much harsher explanation:

LL, at heart, isn’t a very nice person. She knows this so she builds an image that opposes the inner her. Addictions make her feel better about who and what she is, but they also help her to manage the stress of being, inside, the kind of person who doesn’t feel the empathy she should. There's an image to maintain so that no one knows the truth. Becoming a vigilante is more about how it feels to break rules and gain the kind of power only a mask can provide, than it is about helping people. In the end, she’s able to gain that vindictive pleasure of knowing that Oliver will never be without her. And every version of a canary has caused Oliver nothing but grief which is fine… because he broke her. Deep down, she just wants to be bad without being judged for it. Without facing consequences, which is why black siren fit the bill so much more than E1 LL ever did.

Again, this is just an opinion and a bit of fun when writing fanfic-

Anyway, Jessica's shutting up now because that’s enough out of me for one day. Back to work.

[thedeviltohisangel]

How The Night Changes//5//Don’t Wish It Away

Olivia overhears something she shouldn’t have (or it’s Olivia’s birthday & Duncan spoils her)

Warnings: smut, mention of past eating disorder

thank you to @kellysimagines for the request!

my URL/duncanshepherd to catch up!

send any requests for these two my way!

“I’m still mad that you wouldn’t let me see you on your actual birthday,” Duncan muttered as he focused on stirring the minestrone soup he had bubbling on the stove.

“It’s the day after my birthday, that’s not too far away from the actual event. Besides, I had to be with my mom for the photo op, you know that.” Olivia walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to the spot between his shoulder blades. “Don’t be mad at me, Donut, I love you too much to handle it.” He turned around in her embrace.

“Could never be mad at you when you have that bow in your hair,” he chuckled before he kissed her. Olivia had shown up to his home with a pink silk ribbon holding her ponytail. It might’ve been the most adorable thing he had ever seen and it also might’ve been the sexiest.

She playfully hit his arm as she hummed against his lips, pulling away from him with a satisfying pop.

“Today is already going better than yesterday. You’re here and you’re making me this soup you’ve been hiding from me.” Duncan lived by himself and on the rare occasion he wasn’t busy with work and having something delivered, he liked to try out new recipes. This soup was one he had made over and over on cold DC nights and thought Olivia, queen of coziness, would enjoy it.

“Did your mom get you anything nice?” He knew it would be nothing compared to the pile of gifts he had in the back of his closet to give to her, wanting to spoil her like he knew she deserved, but he was asking to be polite.

“Actually, yes. She got me one of those Cartier bracelets everyone is walking around with. It was really sweet.” Olivia walked over to the wall of wine Duncan kept in his dining room and picked a bottle of Cabernet for their meal. He carried over two bowls and set them on the table, pulling out Olivia’s chair and motioning for her to take a seat.

“Why do you always pick my most expensive bottles?” he inquired as he poured some wine into her glass.

“So that way, the next girl you have in your life can’t enjoy them.”

“I don’t think there is going to be a next girl,” he whispered as he paused his movements.

“That’s the right answer,” she replied with a smirk as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip. He kissed the top of her head and went to take his seat across from her, raising his glass in a toast.

“To my love as she embarks on a new year and to our love as we take the journey together.” They tapped their glasses lightly, took a sip and then began to dig into their meals. “You know, I wish I could’ve taken you out for your birthday. Really show you the kind of romantic I can be.”

“This is all I need! You, warm bread and fuzzy socks. The soup is wonderful by the way. You said I’d like it and I love it.” He smiled as she reached for another piece of crusty bread that sat in the middle of table, happy to be enjoying a meal with a woman who actually ate for a change. His last fling had been with a girl who drank her calories.

“What’s your goal for this year?” Olivia had recently quit doing ballet professionally, an ankle injury not healing in the right way that would require in order for her to have been able to dance the same.

“You’ll think it’s funny and that I’m stupid if I tell you.”

“I could never think that, my love.” Duncan leaned over the table to grab her hand and place kisses in quick succession to her knuckles.

“I want to start teaching dance. A studio downtown has a spot open for toddler ballet. I haven’t asked my mom yet but I think I want to do it.”

“That sounds absolutely amazing,” Duncan replied.

“You’re the only person so far who hasn’t criticized me for quitting dance, you know.” He furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean? You got hurt and it wasn’t safe for you to dance again. What’s there to criticize?” Duncan had been there the night she’d injured herself on stage. If it wasn’t for the Secret Service keeping him from running backstage to check on, they would’ve been public by now.

“Apparently, it’s the only thing I’m good at. Without it I’m just another girl walking down the street with a nice handbag.” Her teeth scraped against her spoon as she angrily took another bit of food.

“Your mother and the White House PR team,” Duncan said with a sigh as it clicked within him. “Don’t listen to them. They suck at their jobs and are pointless. Children love you and you will be the best instructor they will ever have.”

“How do children feel about you?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. For as long as she had known Duncan, she couldn’t  remember ever seeing him around children.

“They’re like little elves that operate behind the scenes. I don’t really see them or interact with them,” he said, pouring himself another glass of wine.

“Do you like kids?” Duncan knew Olivia, he knew her very well, but not well enough to understand where this line of questioning was going.

“I don’t particularly like them but I don’t particularly hate them either.”

“Do you want kids?” And there it was. Olivia had decided that since Duncan and her openly expressed their love for one another, she could start asking him the tough questions.

“Don’t most women start with marriage first?”

“What’s the point in asking you to marry me if you don’t want kids?”

“First of all, I’m the one who is going to ask you. I’ve given a lot of thought to the proposal-”

“Duncan. Answer my question.” He couldn’t deflect by informing her he had thought about marrying her, no matter how many butterflies had just been released into her stomach.

“I’ll have kids if you want them.” It was an answer but it wasn’t really the answer she had been looking for. Olivia should have guessed he wasn’t the type of man to dream about being a father or raising a brood. Duncan had a singular focus and anything that could detract from that required a lot of thought and vetting before he allowed them in. Olivia had first kissed him when they were in the second grade and only now had he decided she could be welcome into his inner sanctum. “They’re just something I’ve never really thought of. I don’t have a biological clock that makes me think of things like that like you do.”

“I want kids. And I want like five of them,” she said. He grabbed her hand again and stroked his fingers over her knuckles.

“Then we’ll have five kids. More if we want more.”

“That sounds amazing.” Olivia wanted to have a little girl and raise her to always know she was more than good enough. Being who she was was exactly what she was supposed to be doing. She wanted to right all the wrongs she felt her mother had made towards her. “I’m happy we were able to settle that,” she said matter-of-factly before she returned to her meal.

“Why do you have such an effect on me? Why do you make me feel like I’m ready to stop working so hard and settle down with you? Move out of DC.”

“Because you love me. The deepest part of you knows it and wants you to stop fighting it.”

“Let’s go away. From the city. Let’s go back to South Carolina. Go to that farm where I caught you kissing Finn in the hay bales that one summer. I want to spend time with you in a place where you can’t see the Washington Monument.” She could see it now. Duncan in jeans. Her and her leather boots that she had brought with her to DC for sentimental reasons. She could smell it. The horses and the hay. The barbecue from the town center. And then there was a glimpse of the future, little feet laughing as they scurried across the wood floors. Duncan in a rocking chair with a bundle on blankets tucked against his chest. Olivia teaching a little girl how to braid her hair the way she liked. But she couldn’t have that. She had to stop dreaming about it.

“I’m afraid, Duncan, that if I leave I won’t ever want to come back. And until my mother is no longer in the White House...I’ll always have to come back.” His chest ached not just at the loss of his perfect vision for the two of them but of how meek she sounded when she told him it could never happen.

“One day, Olivia, you will no longer feel as though she owns you. I promise.”

Later that night he had her sitting by the fireplace as he grabbed her presents from his closet.

“Duncan! You look like Santa!” she laughed as he dragged a bag into the living room.

“This is nothing compared to what I have planned for Christmas.” She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t help herself from clapping like a child when he finally reached her with her haul.

“Is there an order you want me to open these in?” she asked as she began to pull them out and place them around her.

“Go in size order from biggest to smallest. The best gifts come in the smallest packages.”

“Besides your package?” she asked with a smirk as she opened the biggest one to reveal an embroidered blanket. “Oh, Duncan...this is beautiful!”

“You like it? I picked it up when I was in Spain last month. Made me think of you.”

“I love it.” She leaned over to kiss him, slipping her tongue between his lips with a moan.

“Baby, if you react like this to a blanket it then we might be here awhile by the time you get to the end.”

Olivia, begrudgingly, tried to not let herself be too overcome with emotion on each gift that she opened from Duncan. Among other things there was a silk kimono she had been eyeing for a while, plane tickets to Malibu for their anniversary that was coming up and a gold compact mirror with their initials engraved ever so tiny on the bottom.

Duncan snatched the last box from the floor before she could and held in his hands tightly. “It’s not...opulent like you may be expecting but it’s meaningful. I don’t want you to feel pressured by it I just thought...I should just let you open it.” She tore the paper carefully to reveal a square velvet box which, when she opened it, displayed a key.

“Is this to your apartment?” she asked shyly as she grasped it tightly in her hands.

“Yeah. I was just thinking how I want to see you more. See you all the time, actually.”

“I can’t fully move in with you, Duncan. Not yet at least. But I’ll be here every night that I can. I’ll start leaving my toothbrush here!”

“I just...I have this feeling that I’m meant to build a life with you, Olivia. This is the first step. I know I can be a dick sometimes or don’t always put work on the back burner but I want to. I want to never go on a first date again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she echoed back as she crawled into his lap. His hands settled on her waist naturally and she leaned into him for a kiss. His fingers wandered under the hem of her sweater and traced patterns over her soft skin. Their lips moved together lazily, nowhere to be and in no rush to find somewhere to go.

“Bed?” he whispered as her hands began to tug at his hair.

“No, want you know. Here.” She pulled the ribbon from her hair before connecting their lips once again, Duncan sliding his hands up her sides until her sweater was removed and tossed to the edge of the carpet. “Surprised you didn’t get me lingerie for my birthday,” she mused as they shifted so she was lying on her back. He looked up from where he had been sucking a hickey onto the swell of her breast.

“I knew I forgot something!” Her laugh quickly turned into a moan as his tongue leveled itself along the waistband of her leggings.

“Taste so good, you know that?” She lifted her hips obligingly as he shimmed her pants and lace thing down her legs, her own hand coming to tweak one her nipples as she watched his eyes devour her. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this,” he whispered. His hands pushed her thighs further apart and he placed gentle kisses to her soft skin. He started by kissing her clit like he would her forehead, a short and gentle peck, and her fingers came to stroke through his hair in encouragement.

His tongue came next. Mapping out her folds from memory, his eyes closed as he danced across her petal soft skin and lingered in the places that made her moan the loudest. Fingers followed. Circling the entrance to her. Making her soul tingle with anticipation of his increasing touch. When his first finger entered her, her thighs tried to clamp shut, her control weak over the pleasure that pulsed throughout her body in waves. “Impatient girls don’t get to come,” he chastised as his finger returned to circling her. He had to earn it inside of her.

“Sorry, Daddy. You’re making me feel so good,” she moaned as she tried to buck her hips up towards him, desperately seeking more. Always more. He groaned as the name slipped out of her mouth, slipping two fingers into her as a reward. Her chest lifted off the ground as she curled with his knuckles, her hips remaining in place as his hand kept her down. “Fuck, Duncan, right there.” He slowly and purposefully pumped his fingers in and out of her, the tip of his tongue tickling her pearly clit in unison.

“You gonna scream for me, baby?” he hummed, “Let everyone know what a slut you are for Daddy.”

“Fuck, yeah. Oh god, oh god,” she cried out as her toes curled and a third finger of his joined the effort in putting her over the edge. He put his hand underneath the small of her back, desperately trying to hold her against him so she could take all that he was giving her. “Don’t stop,” she whined as she felt the pressure building inside of her nearing its climax. Her mouth fell open but no noises came out as her orgasm crashed over her, her hands digging into his hair to hold him against her and he licked and touched her through it.

As she lay there panting, Duncan kissed up her body and offered his slick fingers for her to take into her mouth.

“You squirted, kitten. So proud of my good little girl,” he murmured as she wrapped her tongue around his fingers and sucked in the way she knew he liked.

“Want your cock, Daddy,” she whimpered as her hands tugged at his pants in frustration. He was already straining against the zipper, her mouth watering at the treasure held behind the denim.

“Where do you want it, kitten?”

“In my mouth.” She licked at his throat for emphasis and didn’t miss the way his hips stuttered forward when she did. Duncan straightened his upper body while he remained on his knees so she could undo his belt and pants and help him rid his body of them with glee. Olivia wasted no time in taking him into her mouth. She maintained eye contact with him as she licked the underside of his cock from bottom to top, returning to suck at the root of him in the way that made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“So good, baby,” he said breathlessly as he held her hand in his hand, “Want you to choke on it.” Happily, she took him until his soft tip hit the back of her throat, the sound she made almost having him cum on the spot. “Such a dirty slut, taking Daddy’s cock like this.” His hips thrusted forward rhythmically, her tongue flattened against him and looking up at him obediently as he used her to near his hand.

“Please come inside me, Daddy.” He nodded once in approval of her request, Olivia smiled as she lied back down and dropped her knees to either side. His hands landed on either side of her head as he lined himself up with her entrance. Duncan stuttered his hips forwards just enough that his tip tapped against her clit, fingers already curling into the carpet in anticipation. She did her best to keep her mewling at bay and to keep her hips from twitching forward because she knew if she misbehaved then she would not go any of what she was asking for.

Without warning, he finally settled himself inside of her and she sighed in contentment at the sense of completion that was now upon her. “Oh, Duncan,” she whimpered as he found the perfect rhythm and leaned down so their chests were flush against each other. He kissed her softly, the dominance replaced by an overwhelming softness for this moment in time.

“I love you so much, Olivia,” he sighed into her mouth, “Keep your eyes open. Want to come together.” It took all of her willpower to keep her eyes locked onto his when every thrust made her want to close them in concentration to reach her end.

Their moans picked up in unison as his hips got quicker and sloppier, the pleasure breaking his steel focus. Duncan hadn’t realized how much better sex was with someone you truly loved and he was happy that he had wanted until he meant Olivia to figure that out. She was his person. Always had been and always would be. “Mine, mime, mine,” he chanted with each thrust as they both reached the edge, Duncan holding her close against him as they fell over it together. For the rest of the lives, every plunge they hoped would be taken together.

Olivia awoke the next morning alone in bed. The smell of bacon and sound of something be whisked alerted her that Duncan was already up and preparing their breakfast. She stumbled out into his kitchen wrapped in her new kimono and approached him with bleary eyes that were squinting against the sunlight. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he mused as he paused flipping pancakes to greet her with a kiss.

“How long have you been up?” she asked with a yawn. Coffee had already been made, some bacon and pancakes were already on a platter and there was two place settings complete at his breakfast nook.

“An hour or so,” he said with a shrug as he scratched gently at the trail of hair that led to his boxers. “Thought it’d be nice for you to wake up to breakfast. Continue my pampering treatment of you.” Olivia bit into a piece of bacon, nearly burnt just the way she liked it, and moaned at how delicious it tasted as it landed in her empty stomach.

“How do you have any energy after last night?” she asked as she set about pouring them each a mug of coffee, almond milk creamer and sugar for her and a splash of half and half for Duncan.

“Sex with you reinvigorates me. Gives me more energy.” She laughed as he began to cheekily sway his hips as a way to illustrate the energy inside him.

“Well, you are good with your hips,” she mused. They about to lean in for another kiss when there was a knock at his door. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No. Which means it’s probably my mother. Hide in the bathroom.” Olivia didn’t have to be told twice, slipping quietly into the bathroom and locking the door so no one could open it and be surprised to see her in there.

She heard Duncan pad over to the door and clear his throat as though he was getting into character before opening it.

“Did I wake you?” It was the voice of Annette Shepherd and Olivia hit her head against her hand repeatedly. It was moments like these where she felt so utterly stupid for engaging in a secret relationship.

“Sorry. I had to throw a shirt on to get the door.”

“This is quite a bit of food for just you, Duncan,” she said with a questioning tone.

“Trying to use up some stuff in my fridge before it goes bad,” he answered as he moved to try and block the second coffee mug that sat on his counter.

“Ever since you were born, you’ve been difficult to understand.” He threw his hands up as if to say there was nothing he could do about that. “I came to talk to you about something important.” Annette pulled a folder from her bag and handed it to Duncan. With a furrowed brow he opened it and was greeted with a picture of Olivia on the first page.

“Olivia? What about her?”

“Keep reading.” She heard her name and pressed her ear closer to the door in the hopes of trying to hear whatever it was Annette was there to talk to him about.

“You want...you want to release that she spent time at Hope Canyon?” Olivia felt her heart plummet as the words came out of his mouth. There was no way the Shepherds should have been able to found out about her stint at a rehabilitation facility for eating disorders. It had been done under the most top secret of manners. She hadn’t even told Duncan about that part of her past and now his mother was telling him for her.

“Clare went through the deepest of troubles to keep this a secret from the world. One of the only times she seemed like a doting mother in my opinion. Clearly if it were to get out, it would hit her right where it hurt.” Clare had been ashamed that her daughter had used food as a way to control at least one aspect of her life. Ashamed that she had needed help and couldn’t find it within herself. It wasn’t that she was caring for Olivia and her privacy. It was that Clare Underwood cared about keeping her image of a strong woman, raising a strong woman, intact.

“You don’t think this is a little too far? Olivia has nothing to do with this.” Bile was rising in Duncan’s throat. If Olivia hadn’t broached the experience with him, even though she was not obligated to, meant that it wasn’t one she ever wanted to dredge up again.

“Don’t go soft on me, Duncan. In order to stand at the top of the mountain we have to knock some people off.” His mother stood up, apparently done with this conversation, and ran her hands up and down her sons arms. “I trust in your vision of our future, Duncan, and your ability to see that this is the right way to get there.” If only his mother knew that his vision for the future no longer involved her or his uncle standing with him at the top of the mountain. It was only him and Olivia.

He remained rooted in place until he heard the door shut to his apartment the roar of her car roll down the street. The folder felt like it weighed many tons as he held it in his hands. The weight of questions unasked and secrets unknown.

“She’s gone,” he called out. It was a few minutes before he heard the bathroom door actually open and Olivia step out. By the look on her face, the dried tears on her cheeks, he knew that she had heard most if not all of what had transpired between him and his mother. “You heard what she had to say?” Olivia nodded.

“I’m sorry you had to hear about it from her. I was going to tell you, Duncan, I promise.” He shook his head and step towards her.

“You aren’t obligated to tell me anything about your past, my love.”

“Are you going to publish it?” her voice was small as she asked. There was no way she would ever be able to look at him again if he weaponized the file his mother had given him. Love of her life be damned. Their future children be damned. Olivia had to put herself and her happiness and health first for her own sake. If that meant shedding herself of Duncan then so be it.

Duncan grabbed the file and walked over to the fireplace and threw it into the flames, watching it turn into ash.

“I’m not. No one is as long as I can stop it. You’re the other half of me. They can’t hurt you without hurting me.” Olivia smiled and walked towards him to step into his arms and squeeze him as tight as she could. “You and mean, Livvy. We’ll make it out of this city alive and together. I promise.” There was no one else either of them would rather stand at the top of the mountain with.

[purplesurveys]

358

In the last year, have you...

Moved: No, I’ve lived in the same house for about a decade. Started a new job:  Nope, and I don’t exactly plan to do so until after I graduate. Traveled to another country: Nah, not this year. Traveled to another continent: Most definitely not lmao, if ^ that’s already a no. Eaten sushi: So many times, my dude. Gab and I had sushi for our anniversary.

Been drunk: Yep. As recently as last Saturday. Been high: Never plan to. Been to the dentist: At the start of the year I think. We always get our teeth checked once a year. Bought a new car: Nah, still using my usual one and I never want to trade it for something else, at least while I’m still in college. Had a broken heart: Uh, sure. It sounds cheesy but yeah I’ve felt hurt here and there. Spent over $1,000 in one day: I’ve never even held that much money. Maybe my parents did this, but I haven’t. Kissed a stranger: As a demisexual, the prospect is terrifying. Haven’t done this. Finished a jigsaw puzzle: I don’t think I got to play with puzzles this year. Cooked or baked something from scratch: Yes!!! I’m glad to say I baked something this year! Angela, Hans, Rap, and I spontaneously decided to bake chocolate chip cookies when classes got suspended halfway through the day because of an incoming typhoon. Started a new relationship: No, still in the same relationship as I’ve been in in the last two years. Broken up with someone: Nope. Been broken up with: Nope. Been in the same relationship you were in last year: There we go. Explored a large city: I guess, in the few moments that I had the time. Been to a wedding: No but my mom was invited to a couple this year. I miss going to weddings :( Been to a funeral: Thankfully not. Been to a baby shower: I don’t think so, not this year. Held a baby: Earlier in the year. Angela’s mom (who works as a pediatrician) threw a party and some of her patients and their kids were invited, and one of the kids was a really chubby baby girl that I couldn’t help but hold. Seen a therapist: No, I’ve been putting it off for the longest time. Bought new furniture: My mom’s in charge of that, not me, so no. Made new friends: Sure, you always meet some new people in college. This year it was most notably new recruits in my org, like Tina and Kezhia. Called in sick to work/school: Haven’t we all... Deleted a social media account: I didn’t delete, just deactivate. I’m doing a massive social media detox this Christmas break because everyone’s happy and family-centric posts make me sicker this time of the year. Started a new hobby: Coloring came to me as an impulse hobby last month as Christmas had been approaching, and while I feel sad about flushing so much money in one go over coloring books and supplies, I’m still happy I made an active effort to look out for myself this year. This hobby’s a blassssssst so far. Met a famous person: I don’t think so, if I remember correctly haha. I was like 10 feet away from Paramore but I was too scared to volunteer myself for Misery Business. Went to a concert: I DID!!! I saw Paramore for the second time!!!!!! August 23rd. BEST night of my life, even if I went alone. I don’t know if I ever reported that here but the experience was amaaaaaazing. Best band ever. Traveled via train: The railway system in the Philippines is shit. No way am I voluntarily riding a train. Traveled via airplane: Yes, I went to Bataan over the Holy Week. Been on a road trip: Yes, my dad loves doing road trips so whenever he’s home, we do 1-3 of them. I also did a road trip with just Gab and I when we went to Nasugbu for my birthday. Donated to charity: Not really for charity since they’re sometimes sketchy, but I regularly give money and food to homeless people who knock on my window when I’m stuck in traffic. Been to a country club: Yeah, a few months ago. Went swimming: Many times. The weather this year was not exactly the most convenient, so we went to a LOT of beaches to cool down. Went surfing: Nah, I’m too afraid to try. My sister and parents have had a few lessons but my balance is mostly off haha. Went hiking: NOOOOOOOO UGH I miss hiking! I wish I’d get to do it next year. Had a gym membership: I don’t think I need one, so no I’ve never tried to apply for a membership. Had an argument with a friend: I mean, just with Gabie. I never had an argument with any of my other friends. Had a family reunion: Yeah...dad’s side. It was huge, we rented out a small hotel for it cos literally everyone from my paternal grandmother’s side was there. I was mostly stoked about the food and the couple of dogs that my relatives brought. Went for a walk in a park: This country doesn’t prioritize and maintain their parks, a damn shame. We go for walks at the mall - that’s more of the culture here. Been in the hospital: If I remember correctly, no. Attended a professional sporting event: No. The UAAP (our version of the NCAA) season this year was CRRRRAZY good though, but I never got to get tickets because acads consumed me throughout the semester. Earned a new degree or diploma: I’m in the process of getting one, but no I didn’t earn it this year. Been to a museum: I went back to Pinto this year with Aya, Laurice, Jo, Jum, and Luisa then had a drink atop Antipolo after. Been to an art gallery: Numerous ones with Gab. They pop up every now and then at the mall and we always go through them. Went camping: I was way too busy this year. Went fishing: I don’t like doing that :c Struggled with an eating disorder: No, I’ve never been diagnosed with such a disorder. Been in credit card debt: I don’t even have a credit card. Had new neighbors move in next door: Nope, the houses on either side of ours have long been uninhabited. Gotten drunk at a work party: At an org party, sure. Dyed your hair: Nope. But Gabie did, she had the ends of her hair dyed like a weird blondeish a few months ago. My sister also got brown dye delivered to the house a couple of days ago, so I should be expecting her look to change soon too. Gotten a manicure: Not a big fan of getting my nails painted. Been to a casino: I wouldn’t be allowed to get inside even if I wanted to haha. The one time I smoothly went inside was in 2016 when I was on my cruise trip. The only things I remember is that it the place was filled with flashing lights and everything was super colorful. Voted in an election: No elections happened this year. But we will have our midterm elections in 2019 and I intend to vote then. Shopped at a bookstore: SO MANY TIMESSSSS. Call 2018 the year I got obsessed with school supplies, cos I definitely went overboard with buying pad paper, highlighters, post-its, and, pens. Dined at a fancy restaurant: Many times with Gab. Sat in a sauna: I hate saunas and can’t comprehend how my mom enjoys it so damn much. It’s hot enough in Manila, why salivate at the thought of saunas??? R u ok??? Had a panic attack: Hahaha, I remember so many occasions. Attended a religious service: My family is Catholic, I get dragged to church every week. Been pulled over for speeding: I don’t think speeding is a thing here. People drive like death and I’ve never actually heard of someone getting pulled over for this reason. Stayed awake all night: It happens. Borrowed money from a friend or family member: Gabie lent me a thousand bucks (relax, that’s like $20). I was so short of money last week but I still had a bunch of Santa babies to give gifts to, so I went into a panic until she stepped in and lent me money. Lent money to a friend or family member: I give Gab money sometimes since she commutes from her dorm to my school, but I don’t ask for it back unless I really need the money. Been to an amusement park: LOL pass. I hate amusement parks. Gotten a new pet: No, I still have the same dumb dog. Had strep throat: My throat hurt like a bitch a few months ago. Had food poisoning: I don’t think so. Had the stomach flu: Sure. Binge-watched a show on Netflix: Friends and Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Shoveled snow: We don’t get snowwwww. Mowed a lawn: We don’t have a lawn. Bought a new computer: Nope, still have my same trusty laptop. Bought a new phone: My dad got me an iPhone 8 early in the year.

Worked out using a fitness tracker: I don’t work out. Eaten an entire pizza by yourself: Hehe. Felt an earthquake: I don’t think there were any recognizable ones this year. Taken out a loan: I’m a clueless 20 year old and I don’t know what this means, but I’m guessing no. Been prescribed antibiotics: Nope. Sold something on eBay: I don’t use eBay. Painted a room in your house: My control freak of a mom would never let us get away with that.

[maren-as-an-adult]

So here’s the thing...

Adulting is hard. No one is disputing that. But sometimes life decides it’s going to be exceptionally hard for a while. And sometimes when that happens, you allow it to happen. 

Basically what I’m saying is that my life went into a bit of a downward spiral recently. 

It started back at the end of October. I had set plans to move out to New York. I had put in a transfer to a Target out there, I had a shared room situation lined up, and I had a little bit of money in my savings. I bought my plane ticket, said my goodbyes to my coworkers, and told my close friends in the area I was leaving soon. 

And then the first panic attack hit. 

Now, I cannot speak for everyone who experiences a panic attack, but I know they suck. Mine kind of feel like three foot worms coming out of my stomach as my limbs shake and my face goes simultaneously numb and hypersensitive. I get really cold, and then the demons come out. 

Not actual demons, just thoughts really. 

But they’re all the thoughts that usually stay locked away during the day and what some people may call “intrusive”. I’d say that’s being too generous a term. These thoughts are the whispers of “You’re a burden,” “You’re going to starve,” “You’re definitely going to die and here’s how,” et cetera. 

All this is super fun at two thirty in the morning two days before your flight out. 

So after this panic attack and talking with some friends and family, I decided to not move out yet. I emailed the Target in New York telling them I would be delayed coming out, and then proceeded to finish decorating my house for Halloween. 

Fast forward to November 1st, and the first round of seasonal affective disorder hits. 

Now, as a disclaimer, I’ve never been professionally diagnosed with depression, anxiety, or SAD, but then again I’ve been in denial of my mental state before and let it get to be too much. That wasn’t a fun time either. So I choose to assume I have those three mental disorders in some way so that in case I’m wrong, it’s a pleasant surprise. 

So the November SAD hits, and I become nocturnal. Textbook depression signs of days without personal hygiene, loss of interest in activities I like, and absolutely no appetite. I think I had to verbally remind myself to eat something at least once a day. I would notice at night my stomach growling, but I didn’t feel anything. I knew this was a bad sign, so I reached out to my old therapist in the area. I didn’t hear back from her because: 

I sent her an e-mail asking for an appointment because I couldn’t bring myself to actually speak to anyone over the phone

My e-mail was out of storage space

which either means her response never came through

or my e-mail never actually sent

So instead of looking for another therapist, I withdrew even further. 

To be honest, I can’t remember much of what happened in November. I was constantly asleep during the day and awake at night for no other reason than I had no self-control maintaining any healthy habits and put off trying to fix it every time there was an opportunity for a tomorrow. But I always knew I needed to start fixing myself. Even if it was just in the smallest ways, I’d have to work for it, and work hard. 

I started with my sleep schedule. I went to the library one evening and found a book titled The Mindful Way to a Good Night’s Sleep. I started reading it one morning following a completely sleepless night. Armed with two shots of espresso and a knowledge that a cleaning lady was coming to our house that day, I forced myself to stay awake and read up on helpful tips to regulate my circadian cycle. 

I slept for fifteen hours that night and was in bed by 9pm the following night. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t keep for long, but I knew I could get at least one aspect of my life back on track. That’s all I needed to start getting myself out of this depressive quagmire. 

During this time, I did some soul searching. I never reached out to Target, be it the one in New York or the one I worked at, because I couldn’t (and still can’t) bring myself to go back to retail. The thought of it had me facing a particularly dark path that terrified me. Was I just scared of the hectic stress and long hours that would inevitably come with the holiday season? Maybe. But I did not want to risk a particularly destructive mental state at a job I felt that I had failed at. Not failed on a professional level, but a personal level of not following through with one of my goals. 

But in the time where I kept myself awake debating whether or not I made the right choice to stay at home despite promising several people I would be in New York by November, I couldn’t justify moving myself to New York City to work at Target. Even though my plan had been to move out and hit the ground running looking for more artistic jobs that would keep me happy while Target kept me in the black, I couldn’t stomach the idea of moving out there to work a part time retail job. And I couldn’t (and still can’t) swallow my pride enough to contact my old Target and ask for my job back even though I’m certain they’d take me back. 

I know that sounds shallow. And one of my best friends told me it sounded very “first-world problem-y” when I was still planning on moving out. But I could feel deep in my heart that I would be miserable, paranoid, and isolated if I followed through with this plan. 

So to make a long story short (too late) I’m jobless and battling depression. I know I have more to say, but I’ll get to that later. Finally getting the strength to write this and post it is enough for today, I think. 

[jerseycityrp-blog]

FULL NAME: Marlene Elodie Rose GENDER: Female PRONOUNS: She/Her AGE: 27 BIRTHDAY: December 8th BIRTH ORDER: Fourth HOMETOWN: Jersey City, New Jersey RELATION: Full Sibling TYPE: Sibling ORIENTATION: Demisexual/Panromantic JOB TITLE(S): Songwriter for Red Line Records, Barista at Think Coffee FACECLAIM: Melissa Benoist

EATING DISORDER TW, SEXUAL ASSAULT TW

Marley, as a child, was very sweet and outgoing, not unlike her current self. She loved to play dress up, she loved to draw, loved to read books, but most of all, Marley loved to sing. She could pick up songs from the radio after only hearing them once, and so she started taking piano lessons as soon as she was old enough to sit on the bench by herself. The guitar came soon after, and it was difficult to get Marley to stop singing. It would happen under her breath as she helped Millie with the chores, it would happen in the shower, and it would happen whenever she had a free moment. She was never a social butterfly and preferred the quiet cove of her mind rather than conversing with other people. She is extremely polite and will be very friendly to anyone who speaks to her, but Marley isn’t the type to reveal her innermost thoughts to anyone other than a select few.

Songwriting came easily for Marley, who always found it as a better way to express her emotions. The very first song she wrote was about the death of her father, and considering it was at ten years old, it’s a very poignant and sad way for her to grieve. Her father is the subject of many of her songs, as are her former love affairs. Sometimes she’ll draw inspiration from movies, books, and TV shows. She’ll borrow life situations from friends, too. Marley’s sexuality has always been something she’s accepted– she falls in love with a person, not a gender, and her family has been extremely supportive of this. Marley has had girlfriends and boyfriends throughout her life and honestly doesn’t have a preference to one or the other.

Food has always been a sensitive sort of subject for Marley. She inherited her cooking abilities from her mother, who always taught her how to share the love with people through food. As a child, Marley was massively overweight, so she compensated for this in high school by forcing herself to get on a treadmill, eating salads, and giving away her trays of brownies instead of eating them all herself. She went on a bingeing and purging spree in high school and is still extremely sensitive when she has to eat in front of other people. Marley doesn’t think she’s pretty, and her body image issues still tend to be persistent, so she hides in flowy, bohemian-style dresses and skirts. She tries to reassure herself that she doesn’t care what she looks like since her talent is her real meal ticket. 

Marley’s dream was to go to California for college because she wanted to get herself a good start in LA. LA was where all the bands would be playing, that was where she could get herself a job as a singer. She went to the Berklee School of Music and got her official degree in composition, and started sending out demos. One was received very well, but when Marley figured out that it wasn’t her voice that the head of the company was interested in, she tried to decline the offer. He took advantage of her at an industry party and Marley hasn’t been the same since. She fled back to Jersey City without telling anyone why or what happened to her.

Now, she’s trying to stay out of the limelight as much as possible. Marley keeps her playing to the confines of her room. While she has a job at a label writing songs, nobody there knows that she can actually sing. She never sings her own demo takes, and just writes down the lyrics and plunks the melody out on the piano. She has a job as a barista at Think Coffee in the Village to help pay the bills. That’s the real bank for her. Any royalties that her songs make go straight to Millie.

[joemoshe]

Top Crypto Credit Cards In The Cryptocurrency World

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Cryptographic forms of money are turning out to be increasingly significant and crypto cards are turning out to be more possible. A cryptographic money Visa works actually like the customary Mastercard, counting out that the assets and prizes are advanced monetary standards.

Digital currency charge cards are back by popular worldwide monetary administrations enterprises like Visa and Mastercard. Actually like the typical Visa, you will actually want to get adaptable credit compensations by spending digital forms of money.

BlockFi Bitcoin Visa Credit Card

BlockFi Mastercard intends to be the very first crypto acquiring Mastercard in the crypto space, giving gives very liberal awards for clients. The crypto Visa procures about a 1.5% compensation on all buys made through the card.

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BlockFi Bitcoin Visa Card works very much like a cashback card that is consequently used to purchase Bitcoin every month. You won't get Bitcoin remunerates quickly, keeping you from perhaps making large buys when is exchanging at a complimenting rate. Changing over the award, you get to some other type of digital money straightforwardly is additionally not permitted.

Blockfi Bitcoin Reward highlights

Beside the 1.5% compensation on all buys, BlockFi Visas likewise set forward an early on remuneration pace of about 3.5% on all buys made inside the initial 90 days of card participation. Just as 2% Bitcoin back each card commemoration for each $50,000 of yearly spent.

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BlockFi charge card is quite good for its proprietors. Envision, when you purchase things in reality, you will actually want to get Bitcoin in your BlockFi account. What's more, that Bitcoin develops interest as time goes on the off chance that you hold it spot on there.

Being one of the first crypto Visas doesn't make BlockFi Bitcoin Rewards Visas the best among the rest. It is deficient as far as extra classifications just as choices for constant prizes.

It offers very great advantages to Bitcoin darlings, yet on the off chance that you would prefer not to restrict yourself exclusively to Bitcoin digital money, you should give a shot other crypto charge cards.

Pursue Sapphire Preferred Credit Card

With regards to Mastercard benefits, Chase Sapphire Preferred won't ever be rearward in accordance with its wonderful 100,000 focuses join reward. Albeit this is the card's enticing advantage, it's most likely not alone.

Pursue Sapphire Preferred is truly outstanding among numerous decisions for successive voyagers. It gives incredible advantages and prize projects for both non-travel and travel-center utilization.

More than the sign-up reward and different advantages, Chase Sapphire's Visa's advantage revolves around reclaiming and procuring focuses. A Sapphire Preferred cardholder will get one Chase Ultimate Reward point (esteemed at one penny) for each dollar spent.

As per the General Manager of Chase Sapphire, the Sapphire favored Mastercard gives 3X focuses on eating at eateries just as on qualified food takeout and conveyance. There are 2X focuses from airfare to lodgings to trains, rideshares, taxis, cost spans, and much more.

The focuses you will procure are redeemable for gift vouchers, buys at Amazon or Apple Ultimate Rewards Store, cashback, yet awesome and genuinely ideal arrangement to exchange your focuses is to utilize it to go free of charge by moving them to the movement accomplices of Chase.

Other than the prizes program, you could get advantages like $50 yearly Ultimate Rewards Hotel Credit, $60 back on qualified Peloton advanced, DoorDash's membership administration, trip wiping out/interference protection, 120 days of procurement insurance, and there is no expense for unfamiliar exchanges.

With Chase Sapphire Preferred, an individual could get repayment of about $10,000 per individual in the non-refundable travel costs if the outing was suspended because of serious climate conditions, disorder, and other covered conditions.

On the off chance that cardholders get a movement delay for more than 12 hours, or then again if the defer requests holders to remain for the time being, Sapphire Preferred holders are covered more than $500 per ticket for fundamental costs like inn stay and dinners.

On the off chance that the baggage is deferred for over six hours, cardholders are qualified to repay around $100 each day for five days to compensate for the expense of new dress and toiletries.

In the event that the cardholder is voyaging and utilizes Chase Sapphire Preferred, they get protection inclusion for burglary and impact in the United States and abroad. Nonetheless, the Sapphire Preferred cardholder should decay the protection inclusion of the rental organization.

Pursue Sapphire Preferred Visa is most certainly an absolute necessity have for individuals who love voyaging.

Pursue Credit Card site access

Pursue Sapphire Preferred likewise allows admittance to My Chase Plan, empowering cardholders to separate for regularly scheduled payment acquisition of more than $100. There's no requirement for you to pay interest for My Chase Plan buys, yet there's a proper month to month charge.

Most charge card suppliers require extraordinary credit to fit the bill to apply, and Sapphire Preferred isn't an exemption. Pursue necessities FICO ratings going from 870 to 850, just as a cycle to know whether you are qualified for the card or not.

On the off chance that you haven't assembled a decent FICO rating to fit the bill for Sapphire Preferred, you could pursue a card with a lower credit necessity to fabricate your credit.

The $95 yearly expense isn't anything to the greatest advantages you will get.

Which is the Best Credit Card to Pick?

As a matter of fact, there is nothing of the sort as "awesome" Mastercard, there is just the "right" card for every individual. This implies that the best charge card fluctuates relying upon your circumstance.

There is Citi Double Cash Back card that will give you cashback on all buys, American Express Blue Cash Preferred that is best for family-accommodating buys like food, there is additionally a Mastercard for understudies like Discover It Student Cash Back, and Credit One Bank Platinum Visa for individuals with terrible credit.

Best Card for Poor Credit

To pick the best Visa, you ought to think about your monetary objectives, ways of managing money, and where you will utilize the Mastercard all in all. The best Mastercard is really emotional and is considerably founded on your needs.

Suppose a successive voyager may praise the Chase Sapphire Preferred as the "best Visa" on account of the few travel advantages it offers. However, in case the voyager's need change to digital money contributing, the BlockFi Mastercard may the "best" card.

Toward the day's end, the best charge card is the one that acquires you remunerates you can really use on normal premise, assisting you with hitting your life, travel, or monetary objectives.

[trans-advice]

I feel hopeless. I don’t have insurance. My family has rejected me. I can barely afford food, let alone a binder. The church food banks know my family, they won’t allow me to get the free food box on sundays. I’m living in a shelter. I’m writing this on the public library computer. All because I had to be me and be a guy. I’m loosing faith. I just can’t keep going. Not like this. I can’t transition when I can barely survive. I’ll take any advice, I’m desperate. I only have the name i call myself

Tw: eating disorderCw: starvation because poverty

TLDR: you need to deal with Poverty topics before you deal with your transition. I will update when I can find  links for poverty tips. However, you get your poverty dealt with, you should be good to start transitioning. I wish you luck.

Me, brainstorming:

Save some money from wherever to basically flee to a place where you can be stealth. Whereever can include pawning stuff off to saving money by not eating food & drink at water fountains.

Stealth means no one knows your trans.

You need to move away. Perferably to a city area because social services. Or at least fst enough so you can use the food banks.

https://www.greyhound.com/en/help-and-info/ticket-info

If you live in a metropolitan area, find ways to get public transit since there’s no need for ID at those levels.

Starvation can be survived days at a time, assuming you don’t have pertinent medical conditions. I’d probably guess don’t try more than 5 days. Or else eat really small like only 1 or 2 times a day.

You need to drink water though. Anytime you see a water fountain, drink until you’re no longer thirsty, you’ve drank for about at least 30 seconds, or your stomach is bloated. Also make sure you can pee somewhere.

Also, this place would allow you to use your current library card. If not, then just go from there.

For internet, get a smartphone & go to a restaurant. Use only wifi. Go into menu settings & block everything you can from cellphone network internet connections. Granted, I might be wrong, but still.

If you can make a resume & deal with misgendered for money go for it, and save as much as possible. Choose a formal but plain navy blue or gray outfit (avoid red, orange and yellow accents). Read up on job interview skills too. Find job centers. Perhaps volunteer to build up a resume & references as well.

People tend to throw away a lot of good food. Look for some, find a water fountain & rinse it off.

The point of moving is to find a non discriminating shelter & better opportunities.

Squatting might be a good idea, but you need to basically carry everything in one bag & be prepared to move. Also consider roommates when possible because then you have an address & stuff which you can use for changing IDs & getting mail later & getting a new library card.

Hair dye might also help for disguise. Sunglasses etc.

You can usually prepaid gift cards like Vanilla Visas to pay for stuff online. Look for one that has a lower fee & can have more money on it (like calculate a ratio of Fee divided by Value of card). Remember that you usually can’t get rid of the spare values on it. Therefore more money on it helps.

A lot of this I am personally unfamiliar with. However just walking around new places can give a lot of information too.

Whenever you get some sort of stability then you can start looking into a more full transition. You’ll want an “informed consent” HRT clinic like Planned Parenthood I think (service offering varies from PP clinic to PP clinic).

Also you can eventually change your power of attorney so that your parents/transphobic family doesn’t get to decide your well-being if you get in hospital or something.

I’m not sure on all of the details of this. However, reading about poverty & survival tips is your biggest help right now.

I wish you luck, Power & Love,Eve

links:

it was kind of hard to find tips. Basically you got to innovate & maybe do some illegal things to survive. Basically the cure for poverty is to give people money. So without money, growth doesn’t happen much. But yeah, get yourself some money & get to a place that’s sympathetic to the poor. You’ll basically need a job too.

https://everydayfeminism.com/2015/09/facts-rich-people-never-think/https://www.activistpost.com/2015/11/surviving-poverty-how-to-live-in-a-van.htmlhttps://www.thesurvivalistblog.net/how-to-survive-being-homeless-2/(for richer people, but it’s a good way of keeping what you have) https://www.thesimpledollar.com/nourishment-on-a-desperate-income/(This isn’t exactly the best since these things have failed for you but yeah. And thrift stores are expensive. But this was 2010) http://www.povertyinsights.org/2010/09/20/poverty-survival-handbook/https://talkpoverty.org/2015/05/19/trying-survive-broken-economy/

[travelnortheastindia]

12 Tips to Remember Before Holidaying in the Northeast Indian States

Northeast India is another expansion to the most sultry location for odd excursions; and everything from what to do, where to go, and what to eat are evident inquiries. The whole Northeast resembles an alternate land in view of their new way of life. This uniqueness makes the spot considerably more captivating. Indeed it is consistently astute to know some things about the Northeast's way of life, food, language, and in particular culture by taking North East Tour Packages since it positively is unique. In this way, investigate these 12 hints to recollect prior to arranging an occasion in the Northeast Indian states:

1. Exploration – A Lot of Research

Hornbill celebration

So it turns out to lie far away from the focal conditions of India towards Myanmar. At the point when we talk about Northeast, West Bengal isn't a piece of it, truth be told, Northeast is a path on the northeastern piece of India. By a simple limited 18 to 20 kilometers distance sandwiched between Bangladesh and Nepal, different conditions of India are connected with North East India Tour. The whole Northeast Indian states are flanked by Bangladesh, China, Myanmar, Nepal, and Bhutan making it an entryway to these nations. The states were once called the seven sisters and were before long joined by Sikkim in 2002. Upper east has assorted culture, clan, celebrations, so prior to wandering out, it is in every case great to know at any rate the nuts and bolts of the state. The entrancing thing about this area is that you will discover diverse cultures and languages as you venture to start with one spot then onto the next. At times because of social distinction, you may accidentally cause a complaint so it is consistently ideal to get familiar with some things about their territory.

2. Recognize Inner Line Permit of Northeast India

ILP Doc

Not as muddled as it appears, Inner Line Permits are just to make your reality in the new objective and to effectively find you in the event of incidents. Fortunately, the public authority has facilitated the cycle to get ILP to elevate the travel industry toward the North East Package. Visiting the lovely and abundant sister states sure to require an additional exertion yet it is justified, despite all the trouble. Outsiders presently don't need ILP for states like Nagaland, Mizoram, Meghalaya, and Manipur. Likewise, neither outsiders nor Indians are needed for ILP for Assam or Tripura. Nonetheless, every outsider is needed to enroll with the Foreign Registration Office (District Superintendent of Police) within 24 hours of the section to each state.

Arunachal Pradesh: Indian nationals need an ILP to enter the territory of Arunachal Pradesh, and outsiders are needed for a Protected Area Permit (PAP). You can click here to apply for ILP or PAP.

Sikkim: Indians needn't bother with the Inner Line Permit yet outsiders do to enter Sikkim.

Times are hard while voyaging, we never know when uneven occasion strikes, in this way, regardless of whether grants are not needed to enter certain states, my recommendation is to apply for one and you can reestablish occasionally relying upon the days you will remain.

3. Oversee Time to Explore More

Dzukou Valley

Eight expresses, different locale, and various milestones can't be shrouded in a flicker of an eye – Only in the event that you are a Djinn. Anyway, on the off chance that you are searching for a flawless hideaway in the midst of delightful miracles of Northeast, at that point simply seven days won't be adequate. From a dozen races, various identities, different societies, and numerous tourist spots you won't realize how time zooms. To put it plainly, on the off chance that you need your vacation to be defended, at that point ensure you have adequate time with you to investigate. Efficient is, obviously, a commitment in North East India Tour Packages in light of the fact that for its high tough landscapes and exciting bends in the road. However, on the off chance that you are searching for a fast visit through a portion of the urban communities in Northeast you can decide on Assam for this is probably the least demanding state to fly on off whenever.

4. Continuously a Good Idea to Book Tickets in Advance

Being one of the most visited states presently, the tickets can take off high, and once in a while may even need to trust that days will get a ticket. To be completely forthright, it doesn't occur in every case except this demonstration can be experienced during the Christmas season particularly during winters. Since the understudies concentrating in various conditions of India get back for Christmas, the admissions can score up leaving restricted seats accessible. What should be possible at that point? All things considered, you plan ahead of time. To be accurate, a base development time, an ideal time really would be before 3 or 5 months to withdraw. The toll would be sensible in addition to you get a reasonable view to choose the ideal seat you need.

5. Get Updates on the Constant Weather Change

Meghalaya climate

Climate change is unremitting in the upper east locale and it is consistently fitting to convey a slim coat in any event, during summers. The downpour that pours perpetually in certain pieces of Northeast are inviting and lovely with no uncertainty, however, they can bring cold also. It is prudent to convey waterproof coats since an umbrella is very badly arranged while voyaging. Also, in particular mosquito repellent, consider it an untamed life experience Trip To North East India. The most favored chance to visit the Northeast conditions of India is among September and April when the bubbly party is lively so will be the daylight.

6. Highway or a No way

The streets to Northeast states are very agreeable in many parts however in the event that you are searching for an unconventional objective, at that point support yourself to hop alongside the vehicle following some rubble streets. The interstates in and around Assam fields are as smooth as silk (from my involvement in) little puddles to a great extent (which city in India doesn't claim them right?). Yet, as you climb tough towards states for example, in Nagaland the streets are a little uneven in certain parts and it will give an adrenaline surge disregarding the precarious incline from a limited street. It is an unequivocal 'no' going during storms (you can previously on the off chance that you like a downpour) in light of the fact that being a bumpy territory, avalanches are normal and it would take hours to clear the space. Additionally, it causes sloppy streets making each bend elusive. Maybe, not an extremely glad excursion for the individuals who fall casualty of movement disorder.

7. Something about the Locals of Northeast

The individuals in the Northeast will in general be somewhat bashful and tentative, is there motivation to be threatened by them? Ok No! Individuals in the Northeast are modest with sightseers and once you cooperate with them at that point will be well disposed before long. This unquestionably is an or more point for voyagers, the same number of nearby companions you make the more you will gain proficiency with their way of life and propensities. You can go top to bottom about their set of experiences, supper propensities, and their neighborhood treats, wine, and mix. Moreover, they are useful and will try to take care of your best remain in Northeast.

8. Will there be Internet Access?

Tragically, not wherever you will get excessively quick internet providers to disregard Wi-Fi sources, however, this doesn't mean the web is restricted. In any case, in urban communities and significant areas of Nagaland, you will get great internet providers and numerous digital bistros around. Particularly with a dispatch of the net network from Agartala, Tripura as the entryway, the speed is noted to be smooth (we should go get out).

9. Find out about Northeastern Cuisines

Manipuri cooking

The diverse food in the Northeast is eminent; attempt all you will be a food expert. From all its 8 states and a few areas, there isn't one dish that looks unappetizing. Northeastern has confidence in eating everything from different bubbled vegetables to loaded with protein silkworm snacks and most amiable meat pork. Upper east has different dishes to enjoy like Nagaland's smoked pork, Meghalaya's Jadoh – a sharp pork Pulau, Sikkim's Thukpa to Manipur's Tromba. Make a point to tidy up your excursion with tasty cooking of Northeast.

10. Speak the Language of Northeast

Northeast is maybe the main spot on the planet to have various dialects, for example, Nagaland has 16 significant clans every one of a kind to its own and they have their own style. Additionally, being packaged with 8 sister expresses, every objective has a one of a kind culture and various territories. I can't differ with the way that a couple of conditions of Northeast are very comparable regarding climate and living propensities however they are largely charming and amazing. Thus, knowing some things about their language, maybe even welcome will help you and will satisfy local people significantly.

11. Know their Festivals

As I had referenced before, the best ideal opportunity to visit the upper east is during the months of September and April. This is on the grounds that you not exclusively will get an opportunity to see its delightful scenes yet additionally witness and be a piece of its lively celebrations. Before you endeavor to go to such an event party better get a few realities close by, far superior you can get a closer perspective on the celebrations to concentrate more.

12. Travel Guide to the Rescue

Dawki stream

All things considered, in the event that you face trouble in finding these states completely all alone, that is the thing that travel services are for. You can look for the direction of a travel planner while you unwind and sit tight for your ideal dream objective to show up. Think of us as Tour My India to spoil you with the most ideal guide towards your extraordinary northeastern path.

Fishing and Angling Tour to North East India

One reward guidance! Continuously look out for Border Roads Organization (BRO) along the edges of Northeastern streets. You will locate some shrewd and fun jokes and security tips. It is continually entertaining to discover these while scaling up the foggy piles of Northeast other than its lovely blue mountains (Unless you are driving). On the off chance that you like this blog please offer and re-offer and re-share once more. Furthermore, to look at my different online journals take a sneak look here to get information about Northeast's kin, convention, and celebrations.