#ive been having a real trash week

[chococookiez]

artblock be damned i will make this joke

[fairykazu]

washing rice with childe

note: gendered terms are used once (sir and girl) mlist ++ tglist @aethion @jllyfsh-lvr

when you walked into the kitchen, you didn't expect a horror that's beyond your eyes to even see. honestly, censoring in real life should be exist because you can't believe what childe's doing right now. he can't see you because you're in his blind spot, the corner of the entrance to the kitchen. but man, whatever the hell he's doing, you need to correct it right now or else, the whole world's going to fall apart and it's all your dumb boyfriend's fault.

you stepped into the kitchen, the floor had some suds on the tiles, "ajax."

he dropped the pot on the table, it tipped around its sides before settling down on the table. thankfully, it didn't spill all its contents out. you used his name-name. his government name. this isn't good...

"why the hell are you washing rice with soap?" you said, burying your head on your hands. seeing the beautiful jasmine rice soaked in soapy water made your head turn. why did he even? what???

childe washed the suds off his hands and shrugged, "you told me to wash it like two weeks ago so i am."

you furrowed your brow, "did i say wash it with soap?"

"not exactly but you did say 'babe, please, wash your damn rice. it's killing me!'" that's true, you did say that. but only because he didn't even wash it to begin with.

you took the pot and saw the soap and the rice hanging out. you tilted it to the side, draining the soapy water to throw away the rice. "this is crazy, babe, i meant, just wash it with water and rinse the water out."

"but you said wash it, not rinse it." childe replied, taking the pot from you just before you threw away his nasty rice. he filled with water again to repeat the process.

you rolled your eyes, “no, i said to wash it with water, not soap.” you drained the pot and quickly tossed all the soapy, raw rice into the trash before childe could protest.

childe looked confused. its hard to get mad at him when he looks so cute but you should muster your strength because he committed an horrific crime and he has to face justice (learn how to cook rice correctly). “i mean, that does sound better. ive been washing the rice like this, at least a week later you told me to.”

you were in disbelief, “what…?”

“yeah! it was so bad. i was like ‘wow my girl is crazy for this’ but i did it because i love you.” he formed a heart with his hands and winked.

“babe…”

“yeah?”

your stupid, loving boyfriend mistaken how ti wash rice just because he misunderstood what you said. and he never clarified. god, help us all. “i love you but you shouldve asked me to clarify.”

“…i thought youd get mad at me because ‘youre always right’ blarrrgh!”

shoot, hes right. you would! “thats fair but you really think id wash my rice with soap.”

“i mean,”

you shoot him a look as he glanced to the side. “i mean, of course not!! lets wash it right.”

“before you do, repent !!!”

“really?”

“no, not really. cmon fill this thing with rice for me so we wont have soapy dinner tonight.”

“yes, sir!”

[littleskeletonprincessss]

Memory

A/N sorry this is kinda trash

3 AM drives had become a tradition for you and Dream. His sleep schedule was already fucked up and you couldn't sleep without him curled up next to you. It was a way to unwind from the days stressors, just the two of you against the world.

Unfortunately, 3 AM was also when those who should have been cut off hours earlier decided they should fall asleep somewhere more comfortable than a barstool.

The drive was just like any other, Dreams hand lounging on the steering wheel and the other warm on your thigh. Radio blasting a playlist full of old songs that you'd both grown up listening to, both of you belting the words at the top of your lungs, laughing and just being together.

Everything happened so fast after that.

The other driver didn't even have time to try and swerve, to try and avoid hitting the car. When you'd first woken up, Sapnap informed you that the coward just drove away, not bothering to contact anybody. You'd suffered a broken leg and arm, as well as a small concussion, but that was the extent of your injuries.

Dream was far worse.

The car was totaled, the initial impact T-boning the drivers side. Dream had broken bones, blood loss, and a severe concussion. And he hadn't shown any sign of waking up soon.

Once you were discharged you went straight to his room and just...sat.

It hurt to look at him. His shining eyes shut, one bruised bleeding, an impossible frown settling on his lips, a bandage flattening the fluffy hair on his forehead. Wires were connected to him, machines beeping monotonously, IVs delivering a clear liquid into his vein.

"Dream..." you whimpered. You'd give anything to have him back.

Sapnap and George took turns visiting, as well as Dream's family members. They'd try convincing you to go home and rest, get some real sleep, but you always said you were fine. George would bring you meals from the cafeteria, and you'd pick at them, but never enough to fill you stomach. You didn't know if you'd be able to keep anything more down.

Finally a week later the machines started beeping faster. Dream was making progress, pulling through.

Everyone wanted to be there to see his eyes open for the first time. The staff tried their hardest to prevent it, but when Dream finally woke up, all of you were at his bedside.

"Dream, Honey?" His mom whispered, trying to hold back tears.

"Mom? Dad? What happened?" You could see Dream wince from the hoarseness of his voice, trying to clear his throat. "Water?"

"You were in a pretty bad accident about a week ago." George answered.

Dream took a cup of water from his dad's outstretched hands. "Hey, guys." Dream nodded towards George and Sapnap.

"Dream." You breathed, almost scared that this was a dream and you'd wake up and he'd be asleep still.

"Hello." He responded, but it wasn't in the way you would have expected your boyfriend to. You decided to brush it off figuring he was just tired or something from the medication.

"How are you feeling?" You asked, taking his hand in yours.

"Fine, I guess. I'm sorry, do I know you?" He asks, pulling his hand from yours.

The room fell silent.

"Dream..." You asked in disbelief.

Before you could say anything else a Doctor came in to check on Dream.

"I need anyone who isn't family to stay in the waiting room please. You all shouldn't be back here. Now go." He said, shooing you and the other boys out of the room.

"Babes..." Sapnap starts, seeing how hurt and confused you are.

"It's probably just temporary." George assures you. "Let's go sit down and i'm sure when we can see him again, he'll have remembered."

Nodding slightly, the lead you to the stiff chairs of the waiting room.

A little while later Dream's dad came into the waiting room.

"He's going to be alright eventually. Just needs lots of rest and time for his bones to heal. Unfortunately, he does have a kind of amnesia. He remembers most things leading up to the accident, but not what happened during."

"Most things?" George asks.

"There are certain...aspects...that have slipped his memory" Dreams dad says, looking away from the three of you.

"It's me, isn't it?" You say, a feeling of dread growing within you, being almost too scared to say it out loud.

"Yes. But don't worry, the Doctor said it should be temporary." He quickly reassured.

What was said after that fell upon deaf ears. What were you going to do? You'd moved in with Dreams years ago, and never as just a roommate. You were building a life together and that was just....gone. You guessed you could move into the guest bedroom for a while...

"Have you told him anything about who I am?" You interrupted the current conversation.

Dreams dad nodded. "We told him you're a friend of the family. That way when he sees you around..."

"He's not so weirded out."

Dreams dad nods solemnly.

"You're all welcome back to see him though." He offers, trying to lighten the mood.

"Actually, I think i'm going to go home. Rest up a bit." You declined. You figured it'd be better than staying a feeling like a stranger.

You still visited the hospital every day until Dream was discharged, but you didn't stay as long, and stayed as far away from Dream as you could in the tiny room.

When Dream was discharged his mom insisted he stay with them for the time being so she could keep an eye on him.

Whenever you'd visited before, Dreams childhood home was a safe place. A place where you feel like you belonged, and were loved. Like a second home. Now you felt like you were intruding. A guest in this family home. No matter how much his parents promised you were part of the family and that this would all go away soon, you began to wonder if it would.

"Hey Mom, Hey...(Y/N), right?" Dream said, entering the kitchen where you were visiting with his mom to grab an apple from the fridge.

"Hey."

Once Dream left the kitchen you turned to his mom.

"Do you really think it's temporary?"

"Oh, Sweetheart. I know it must be hard. But I really do think that deep down, Dream still knows exactly who you are and loves you every bit as much as he did before."

You fingered the necklace he'd gotten you for your anniversary, only a month before the accident."

"I know I should have hope, it's just...too hard. Too see him, smiling and laughing again, and knowing that I can't be the cause. Knowing that he has no idea who I am.." You say, a sob threatening to escape taking your words.

"I'm sorry. I have to go." You say, standing up and leaving without another word.

Days went by without you visiting. George and Sapnap would update you, but they never said what you needed to hear.

After a month went by with no sign of his memories returning you decided you'd given it enough time.

You moved in with your friend for a while until you were able to find an apartment. Sapnap fought hard to convince you to stay but George understood how hard it was for you and eventually Sapnap gave up.

Once Dreams mom felt comfortable with it, he moved back into the Dream Team Household, still without a inkling of memory for you.

Then, one day months later, Dream rushed into the living room where George and Sapnap were lounging on their phones.

"Guys, I'm freaking out. I can't find (Y/N) anywhere and all her stuff is missing." He says, tugging on his curls, panic rising in his voice.

"(Y/N)?" George asks, surprised, looking at Sapnap who returned the same surprised expression.

"Don't be stupid George, I'm serious. I cant find her and I've tried calling and texting with no answer."

"Dream, calm down. (Y/N) is fine, just staying with a friend." Sapnap started slowly.

"A friend? What the hell is going on?" Dream asked. HIs legs felt wobbly and throat felt tight with fresh tears. He sat on the couch to steady himself.

"After the accident..." Sapnap started.

"You suffered from a sort of amnesia." George took over.

"Right. The doctor said that's why I couldn't remember the accident at all." Dream said, confused. Why were they telling him all this again?

"There was something else you didn't remember. Well, someone." Sapnap said.

"What?" Dream felt a heavy wash of something come over him.

"You woke up and couldn't remember (Y/N) at all. Your parents told you she was a family friend so you wouldn't be so confused as to why she was around all the time. We wanted to tell you , but your mom convinced us that it would be better for you to go along with the lie, she said you were in such a fragile state that it'd just be better that way. And then we didn't know when the best time to tell you would be."

"I forgot her?" Dream asked. He couldn't believe it. This was the girl he'd pictured a future with. The love of his life. No way did he just forget her.

"It got too hard for her. She started out visiting your house nearly every day, but eventually it was too much and she moved out. Forced herself to move on." George said.

"Move on?" Dream whispered. "No, I can't let that happen. I have to see her. Have to let her know I remember her. We can be together again." He looked at Sapnap. "Do you know what friend she was staying with?" Dream had only met a few of your friends, but only knew where one or two of them lived.

Once Sapnap told him and Dream thanked whatever God he believed in that it was one of the ones whos addresses he knew, he grabbed his keys and got into the car and started driving.

A knock on the front door of your friends apartment startled you from where you were sitting on the couch scrolling through yet another page of apartment listings on your laptop.

Placing the computer on the coffee table you opened the door, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.

"Dream.." you whispered.

You were wrapped in his arms immediately, being crushed to his chest in a suffocating hug.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I don't know how I could have ever forgotten you."

"Oh, Dream. " you said, with tears in your eyes, wrapping your arms around him and burying your fact into his neck.

"Please don't tell me i'm too late. That you haven't given up on us. That you didn't forget me."

"Dream, even if there was anyone else I never would have been able to forget us. Never would have been able to completely move on. I love you."

Dream smiled widely pulling you into a kiss.

"I can't wait to make more memories with you."

[anamelessfool]

I made a crackfic inspired by these GIFs

One Shot (AO3 Link)

Papa Emeritus IV & Reader

Mature for strong language, references

Stupid silly fic, destiny, concerts, the incredible cornette hat

This opportunity comes once in a lifetime....You only get one shot. You hope your calculations are correct this time.

1,819 Words If you like this fic please reblog!

One Shot

This was your last chance. After three rituals, there was nothing left. Fourth time’s a charm, you told yourself, arriving at the line by the venue at promptly 1AM. You were going to make rail no matter what. You run into your friend, Avery, who has doggedly followed you ever since witnessing your first attempt a few weeks ago. Since then you had kept running into them in the line, and at this point you had become fast friends. Today they look grim as you arrive and settle yourself into the long wait.

“Last chance, huh?” Avery blows a bubble with their gum. They have the weary voice of some kind of soldier getting ready for one last push over the top. You both hear the rattle of a raccoon scuttling around in a trash can nearby. The things you do for a dream.

You nod back. “Then they’re off to South America.”

“You are fucking nuts,” Avery says. “I don’t understand you but goddammit I respect you.”

“It’s been real, Avery.” You fistbump and wiggle your fingers, laughing.

It’s only a fifteen hour wait. You had waited longer in the past. As the line gets longer, more colorful characters appear, more people mingle. You chat, swapped social, and sing like delirious hungover partygoers at New Year’s. Thinking about the hours ticking makes you break out into a nervous sweat, but visualizing your mission steels you. Every so often, Avery locks eyes with you and calms your nerves with a friendly shoulder pat. “It’s gonna happen this time.”

You feel like some kind of action hero. Staring into the challenge ahead. “It had better fucking happen.”

The sun gets high overhead, roasting the asphalt, and still you remain. The shadows lengthen, the air cools. Finally, finally the venue staff come over to the line. Finally they pull out their scanners and open the gate.

Now or Never.

Arriving at the venue, you refresh yourself, then make a furious, single-minded march towards the front and center of the rail. Nothing will stop you this time. Not even the call of nature. You’ve picked out the ideal spot. After your three attempts you’ve figured out the perfect location. You’ve mapped the trajectory, the angles needed.

It’s a good thing Papa likes keeping to a script.

“I’m feeling really good about this,” Avery says from next to you. “You’re going to make it this time. I know it.”

“You’re psyching me out right now,” You mutter. “I can’t think. I got to get into the zone.” At last the blast of the music hits, that singular Yeaaaaaahhhhh! that makes your heart nearly explode. The curtain falls, and the pyrotechnics flare.

Every time you see him, you can’t believe he’s real. Papa Emeritus IV, resplendent in his beautiful costumes, reaching out to the audience, his thrusting hips powered by his voice. There’s screaming all around you. You have a weird inner peace as you wait for the opportune moment, a calm mindfulness reserved for samurai waiting to draw their weapon. Soon. Soon.

“BELIAL! BEHEMOTH! BEELZEBUB!” Ten thousand throats are shredded with screams. Avery gives you a friendly noogie. It’s time.

At last Papa IV appears on stage, framed by blasts of flames. His flowing garments take your breath away. His fierce winged hat lends an air of noble severity to his presence. The vision of that hat had consumed you since you saw it in Metal Hammer Magazine.  It has haunted you for months, and the plan you are seconds from attempting bubbled up from the core of your being. You had never felt so sure of the concept of destiny ever before.

Papa starts swanning all over the stage, coming into range. It’s fucking time.

From your pocket you pull out your ammo. You have a single shot, but something about having a single chance for victory steels your focus even more than having two or three. You unroll a pair of frilly strawberry-print panties, clutching them into your hand. You let all the breath out of your lungs. You have the focus of a stalking cat, a striking rattlesnake.

You hook the panties on your thumb, stretch the elastic waistband, and release.

“Archangelooooooo!” Papa IV croons.

There’s a moment where you don’t even feel your heart beating anymore. You see the panties suspended in the air, so slow in front of you you could count all the strawberries. For a brief second you scream in your mind It’s not going to make it! They hit the far wing of the hat, nearly slide off, then settle, hole in one.

A perfect shot. The panties land. Perfectly. Right in the bowl of that glorious hat.

“BROOOOOOOOHMYFUCKINGODBROOOO!” Avery screams in your ear. You barely register their voice, your whole soul ascending with the feeling of victory. It’s done. You’ve done it. And it’s glorious. Tears start to well in the corners of your eyes as you watch Papa IV scuttle across the stage carrying your prize.

And then you felt the arms on your shoulders.

“Hey! Get the fuck offa them!” Avery yells, but it is too late. Three security guards drag you over the rail, kicking and screaming. Finally you stop resisting, a serene deathly calm settling on you. You’ve done your duty and now it is time to go to the ashes from which you came. Your unfinished business complete, it is time to walk towards the light.

Your consciousness witnesses when they pull your arms behind your back, forcing you forward, whisking you away. To where, you have no idea. Nor do you care. What is done is done. You think they are going to kick you completely out of the venue but no, one of the guards opens a service door to the side of the stage. The florescent lights blind you, and the silence buzzes with the ghosts of the screaming crowd in your ears. The concrete and cinderblock hallway seems to go on forever and you watch your feet plod forward, your head down. The guards’ grip on your arms and shoulders tighten.

“Wait here!’ One of them shouts, whipping open a door. There’s nothing but darkness within. And within the darkness you remain, the door slamming behind you.

***

The light rakes across your eyes, and you wince like a cave animal. You have no idea how long you have sat in that dark closet, but judging by the silence around you the concert has long been over. Your eyes water and adjust to the light, witnessing the silhouette of a guard standing in the doorway. “Come with me. He would like to see you.”

He? Your heart starts to pound. At last your adrenaline bottoms out and you start shaking, but it is too late to fully react to your actions. Two guards reach in and grab you once more, ripping you back into the hallway. “Keep your head down!” One hisses under his breath. Your hands start to sweat.

You hear the creak of another heavy door opening, and a guard pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. This place is more softly lit. As you start to bring your awareness back to your body familiar colors, shapes and textures swim before your eyes. In a far corner, items are hung on a clothing rack. A sequined blue jacket. A torn leather vest. The magnificent hat greets you from a makeup table, and you catch your pale face in the lit mirror. At the bottom of the mirror you notice the back of his head.

Papa Emeritus IV is sitting before you.

You see him. You blink. You close your eyes. But he doesn’t disappear. He is right in front of you. And you are standing in his dressing room.

Alone.

His skull-like visage overwhelms you. You have no idea what his expression is, but his cursed eye glares through you. He is sitting on a couch in the center of the room, his arm on the armrest. He had since loosened his tie and you see the smallest sliver of skin peek out from the unbuttoned top of his shirt. His body is broad, his shoulders slack from the constant exertion of performing for a crowd.

You open your mouth, but it is as if a puff of dust comes out. He sits before you impossibly, but just like in your dreams. You feel that any noise, any movement would sweep the vision away. He lets out a heavy sigh, his chest swelling. You ache in the deepest parts of your body. He slowly sweeps his legs apart and locks eyes with you again.

“Come here,” he says in his reedy voice. You do nothing. You say nothing. A deer in the headlights would look on you with concern.

He blinks, then pats his leg. “Come here,” he says again. “Sit here.” There’s a quavering quality to his voice. You’re not sure if he is embarrassed or furious. A muscle tenses in his jaw, but the melting paint on his face obscures the smallest details of his expression.

He idly rakes his hand through his deliciously graying hair, and your knees nearly buckle out from beneath you. He is reacting to you. So he must be real. You will your legs forward, planting yourself in front of him, looking down at him. His brow furrows, and his eyes surprisingly shift from side to side.

Is he…nervous?

Papa pats his knee once again. “Per favore, siediti,” he growls.

You lower your body onto his strong, supple leg. He holds your weight perfectly. You feel like you’re going to fall off backwards in a faint, so you unconciously hold onto the side of his waist. His body shifts under you.

“Well, then…” he begins. You’re not sure if he is smiling or frowning. His face is so close you can see how the makeup has drifted under the sheen of sweat.

You have enough willpower in your brain to utter a faint “Um…sorry.”

Papa utters a casual grunt. Through your hand you feel the noise vibrate his whole body. He leans forward and by consequence his chest presses into yours. The heat and dampness of his tired body envelops you, the musky smell of his sweat overwhelming your senses.  Your whole soul is aflame in this single moment in which he reaches to pull something out from beside the couch.

“Here,” he says. His breath caresses your face. You look down.

In his hands is a small stuffed bear, like the kind found at carnivals. He holds it out to you. You do nothing. He makes a little frustrated “Myeh” in his throat and places it in your hands. His own gloved hands wrap around yours, patting them. He releases the prize into your possession, leaning back, satisfied.

“Here,” he repeats. You see the smallest of smiles drift across his face. “Complimenti.”

My Master Fic List

Taglist: @riptide-kid @kabukiaku @historian-crown@monkberryghouldelight @in-cardi-c-we-thrust @iichorot

[prairietrashdotcom]

eee i got tagged to do a tag game by @mrcrepsley thank you :)

im tagging: @stitchedgrave @laceandgore @r0ttdweller @cherubgore @cannibaldotcom @unfading-scrutiny but if you've already been tagged in this one or dont feel like it its cool. n if i didnt tag u please do it if you want to also.

Do you make your bed? if by make you mean pull down the duvet so it can air out, then yes. dont worry about why that is.

What's your favorite number? 3, 9, 13, 27

What is your job? i have been a sporadically employed hermit for the last four years :( i am starting college again next week though (media focused program) and theres a lot of production-like activity where i live so hopefully in the future that works out.

If you could go back to school, would you? See above, but i do sometimes wish i could go back to my uni in canada, but only if i was single so i could at least try n fuck my history prof at least once

Can you parallel park? no :(

A job you had that would surprise people? i have no idea how i am perceived on here so i dont know if it would surprise people that i've ghostwritten a book and worked as an actor in a haunted house. those were probably the least surprising answers but other than that its just bartending and baking.

Do you think aliens are real? duh.

Can you drive a manual car? i cannot drive any car but im working on it, although public transport here is just decent enough that it isnt, like, urgent.

What's your guilty pleasure? i honestly feel less ashamed of my various sexual proclivities than i do about living for TLC's Sister Wives. watching that chode get left in the dust not once, not twice, but thrice was especially delicious.

Tattoos? i have four. both of the ones on my right arm are bird themed but that was unintentional. theres a little bird on my forearm from The Garden of Earthly Delights' middle panel, and then a lawn flamingo on my right shoulder. the lawn flamingo is heavily associated in Winnipeg culture with the Transcona neighbourhood, where my mom's from and where i lived for a few years. everyone else in Winnipeg clowns on Transcona for being white trash, which is not technically incorrect but its my favourite place. On my left wrist ive got a hand with an eye in it, and then a crescent moon surrounded by clouds on my left shoulder.

Favorite color? pink, black, light blues, ive been really into brown this year.

Favorite type of music? i love music in general, any type can be good as long as the people making it care about it but 80s alternative/new wave/punk will always hit so so good for me. and vintage or alternative country. and 90s alt.

Do you like puzzles? i love doing the nyt puzzles stoned every night but i will die before i give them any money to play them.

Any phobias? someone with prior knowledge of my phobias using them to torture me

Favorite childhood sport? i did kickboxing in my teens for a lil bit n it was really fun :)

Do you talk to yourself? chronically, but only out loud if im home alone or out in public alone.

What movies do you adore? to the surprise of no one; horror, especially trashy b-horror/horror comedy. also whatever The Butcher Boy (1997) dir. Neil Jordan (i will never stop evangelizing this movie please watch it sinead o'connor plays the virgin mary) is.

Coffee or Tea? coffee 100%. i live in tea country however. sometimes its nice but objectively the 'tea' people are talking about here (Barrys vs Lyons) tastes like a hot wet paper bag unless you put 3 teaspoons of sugar in it.

First thing you wanted to be when you grew up? either a palaeontologist or a goth, its hard to tell which came first. ironically my mom was much more supportive of my desire to be goth. this is the cognitive dissonance that came with being an early 2000s evangelical christian who listens to Rob Zombie and Evanescence. she eventually relaxed about jesus.

[luna-the-bard]

Skeemus Main Storyline - Act II (Part 1)

The self-indulgent fan oc lore continues! Woo!

Act I <- x -> Te'rra Intermission

Samus’s ship, and, by extension, her living space, is very neat. Being a bit messy isn’t unfamiliar to her, but at large her ship is very tidy & organized. Everything has a place, or at least an “everything bin”; it’s functional. Having someone sick to care for brought a reasonable amount of chaos into this tidiness. Samus found herself cleaning at least twice as often as usual - mostly throwing out used tissues and changing sheets, but also disposing of empty IV bags and syringes and all else that is medical in nature. She had to dig up some old T-shirts and cut them in the back to make them fit around the alien’s wings, because her old clothes had to be discarded both due to wear and tear and for the purpose of decontamination.

A couple days later, after the little alien’s fever goes down, Samus notices her watching, intently, as she goes around her day. The next morning she notices all the used tissues stacked up neatly in little squares at the edge of the bed. Samus appreciates the effort. She makes a mental note to buy a small bin for paper trash to put by the bed once they get to the nearest port - she didn’t really need one before, but it would make cleaning a bit easier now. Since that moment she regularly took notice of the little ways in which her guest tried to be as low-maintenance as possible.

It comes as a shock when one night, about a week in or so, the avian makes a nest out of pillows and blankets and refuses to let Samus leave for the cockpit where she’s been sleeping. Samus has to bust out the drawing pad, because she can’t understand what the little alien is trying to say, yet, and her just aggressively patting the bed could mean pretty much anything. Samus has to make sure everything is okay.

The situation turns out to be a lot more awkward than initially assessed. Turns out her guest noticed not only the fact that Samus has been sleeping in her pilot’s chair, but also the way it had been leaving her neck and shoulders more sore with every passing day. The alien made space for her to sleep besides her - she stopped being contagious as soon as the fever went down, and Samus had just changed the sheets this morning, but she hasn’t had to share a sleeping space since her days in the Federation Police - and even there, she still had an individual bunk. On the other hand, waking up sore every morning was a real pain in the neck… Literally. 

Samus makes perhaps the most uncharacteristic decision of this month - it’s only until Skeets fully recovers and she can drop her off back on Te’rra, what could go wrong?

Besides cleaning, Samus spends her time in passionate research. It takes her a week to even identify the girl’s species - the last publicly available entry on them is dating over two centuries old. Samus feels as if she uncovered an ancient relic. 

She soon learns the reason behind such lack of up-to-date information: Te’rra has left the big political scene almost exactly a millenia ago, cutting all communications and public relations with the rest of the world. It takes Samus another two days to find a textbook on their language - it’s in a private library of some old philanthropist, but to Samus’s luck there's a scanned version of it uploaded online; it even has an audiobook with pronunciation guides and exercises to go along with it. She meticulously follows them all, making good progress - at least good enough to learn some basic phrases and the word “hospital”, since that’s where she was about to take Skeets (they finally got to a planet with a big enough interspecies infrastructure). Although, she also had to learn the words “new” and “clothes'', as she realized that maybe going out in public in just an oversized t-shirt (which was only held together by makeshift ties at the back, at that) might be a bad idea, and the alien’s condition was stabilized enough by now to not need an ambulance ride. As much as Samus hates the idea of leaving someone unattended inside her ship, she has to do a quick shopping run, leaving A.D.A.M. in charge until she could return with some adjustable pants and shirts that would hopefully fit the little bird. (She guesstimates a little on the bigger side, so the alien looks especially tiny in comparison to her oversized apparel. It would almost be funny if only she didn’t look so.. sad and disoriented in an unfamiliar place).

Samus spends another hour or so filling out all the paperwork for Skeets before they go out - names were one of the first things Samus established once she found that textbook, so now she knew at least who she took in, and if Skeets needed something, she could call Samus over. She arranges a taxi from the port to the hospital, so they wouldn’t have to go through the overwhelming ordeal of navigating foreign public transit. 

They come back from the hospital with a portable oxygen machine and a new set of antibiotics. Samus spends the following month feeding Skeets syringes full of medication (she will never admit it, but she almost laughed at the way the little alien’s face scrunched up at the taste), studying terranian, and keeping contact with the Federation officials responsible for rehabilitation of the rescued group. Skeets asks for some textbooks to learn Common and Chozo too, catching up pretty fast with nothing else for her to do on the ship but study. She makes quicker progress with Chozo, finding unexpected similarities to her native language (they’re nothing more than a coincidence, but an advantage nonetheless). By the end of the month they can communicate somewhat well; nothing fancy or too complex, but it makes a huge difference. Skeets helps Samus with pronunciation and vice versa, so learning is going quite well. 

After a follow-up at the hospital, Samus is left with a long list of physical therapy exercises for avian species and a detailed recovery plan. It’s not really a surprise that a full month of inactivity and illness would have consequences, but what it hurt the most was Skeets’s wings - she hadn’t used them since the Space Pirates’s ambush.

They spend evenings looking through various parks and recreational resorts (some of them take up entire planets!), picking and choosing what seemed best for flying. Samus suggests a couple planets with reduced gravity to start them off.

She can’t get the feeling of Skeets’s dry, warm hands in her own out of her head for the weeks to come. They go flying almost every other day - and every time, Samus makes sure to hold Skeets steady at least for the first few minutes, lest a sudden gasp of wind catch her by surprise and lead to injury. She lets go only when she’s confident that the avian is safe. (Skeets is fully capable of flying in harsher conditions, even after two months of forced inactivity. She accepts the help regardless, out of gratitude if nothing else - she doesn’t mind soothing Samus’s worries.)

As they share the bed, the awkward space gap between them grows smaller and smaller; until one night, about half a month later, Samus realizes that whenever she gets cold at night and tries to cocoon herself into the blankets, Skeets drapes one of her feathery wings over her.

Act I <- Act II p.1 -> Te'rra Intermission

[squided]

Has anyone else experienced their parents getting progressively more rude, intrusive, and hypocritical as they got older? Like my mom had me pretty late in life (she was 37) so I recognize I have an older mom than most. And yeah during my teenage years and stuff I thought she was annoying but she was genuinely a good and caring mom. But honestly I've noticed since she's hit her 60s and went through a bad second marriage, she lashes out a lot, expects me to be productive 7 days a week, essentially work all day long, spend 1 hour of relaxation, and then sleep. Anytime this gets me agitated, she goes on about how she needs to work two jobs and 7 days a week and SHE never gets rest and I don't see HER complaining (she is literally complaining about it all the time). Essentially since ive had to live with her again temporarily I've put up with it and have taken on the same workload as her and I've discovered.... there's no way to please her. Every day I should be studying so I can get certifications, I should be looking at new jobs because she doesn't approve of how my managers treat me at my minimum wage job (every job I've had so far), I need to clean the house and my room, I need to go to work, I need to look at universities, I need to make 10 phone calls that will keep me on hold for an hour at a time, I need to pull the weeds in the yard. If I fail a single task, it's met with disappointment and talking about how much work she does and how little I do. If I do all the tasks, then come a list of questions: how's my money doing? Have I been saving it or spending it recklessly? Have I tried quitting smoking yet? Have I cleaned some obscure thing she mentioned a month ago and I forgot about? This keeps going until I give an answer she doesn't like and then we are back at my generation being so lazy, how the younger people just don't work as well as her generation did.

And the thing is... she never used to talk like this. She was always far left, full equality, against classism and ageism. But then the "unbiased" news changed. It stopped covering certain things the US didn't want covered. Suddenly I'm explaining to her that in Israel, people will have parties while watching the bombs drop, there are "settlers" going into Gaza and just claiming other people's land. And she says that's not true, she didn't see it on the news, she looked it up online and the major news sites never covered it once since 2014. Every time I bring up some horrible thing that's definitely happening, she just says I've become a conspiracy theorist and MY thinking is really dangerous and she's worried about me (at which point I snapped a bit and told her that actually her willful ignorance is extremely dangerous and what leads to all these atrocities getting swept under the rug. She threatened to kick me out for being so incredibly disrespectful to her).

I don't know what the point of this post is anymore. Maybe I just wanna ramble about someone I truly respected slowly becoming someone I can barely stand to hold a conversation with. Maybe it has something to do with how people are told to only trust big news organizations for real news and then they censor it so all real news looks like conspiracy theorist trash. Or maybe it just has something to do with age, some sort of thing that naturally occurs as you approach a certain age, and the only way to prevent it is to be aware it's occurring and reject its falsehoods. Or I don't know dude... I've been stuck inside for a month... I think I just needed to fucking vent to the Great Void. If you're listening, hey there Great Void, I hope you're doing better than I am.

[cupidbedsy]

real 😭😭 i’ve got a tour to a local college soon, a bunch if my family members have gone there so i think it’s gonna be the one i pick. plus i’ve been there before but where we do our band assessments

i’ve always wanted to go to michigan (even tho i grew up as an osu fan living like two hours from their campus, i even had a cat named after their mascot. i love that cat sm he was my baby) we don’t have hockey around here, but with cbj not so far and getting able to see gavin play (i’m going to this season and hopefully a umich game)

i haven’t applied yet but i’m gonna apply to a few !!

yea, we’ve played 2 home games (this will be the 3) but i’m grateful for that bye week

we’ve made it the past 2 years and lost, we don’t have a good team this year so we won’t make it this year i don’t believe

ooo fun!!! college tours are actually so fun like bsfr

good luck tho!! bro i don’t think ive ever been so nervous even though i knew i was going to get in

michigan has such a good sports management program and where i’m going they only have a minor which still isn’t bad but i would’ve liked to do that maybe. i had another school that had a good sports management program but i just didn’t like it as much as where im going. but im broke and my sat was not good enough to get me a high scholarship for michigan so out of the question

but yeah like our football team is trash but people have said our new coach is good so maybe???

but we don’t have bye weeks, it’s literally games for 9 weeks and it switches how many home games we get each year. like we had four last year and now we have five

[aanabear2803]

hi i've seen your posts about body weight and I as a fat girl, was wondering if you are open to talk about it or give advice about it

I have been struggling real bad with it lately, I thought I was ok and had been for a few years, turns out I hate my body so much and you seem so confident, you got any advice? would you be open to talk about it in dm's?

feel free to ignore this if it's uncomfortable tho

Hi :3 um... so. I struggle with my own body weight a lot. I wont really talk about the bad thoughts that lurk about.

Ive been overweight since I was a wee lad. It especially hurts when my meds make me constantly hungry. Like I am always fucking hungry. So I just snacked the day away without any thoughts of consequences. I still eat these meds to this day. I am still as hungry as ever.

Id say I wont have very awesome advice? Because what I would normally do when those bad thoughts do happen is... post nudes on my kinky tumblr? Which, you know I dont expect others to do. Im sure there are healthier ways to express yourself than to go on tumblr and do shit like being half naked. However there are tons of gorgous women who dress in lingerie and post on tumblr all the time. You kinda just need to know where to look.

Ive also been trying to loose weight. But its more for a health thing since Im close to being diabetic and Im super duper not down for that myself. Im already tired of the meds Ive eaten I dont want to have to subject myself to stabs of insulin.

Im not on a fad diet of any kind. Im just eating 1200kcal a day watching as my weight slowly goes down~ I calculate all of this stuff too.

There's also the difference in how being fat and being unhealthy are wildly different. There's also that thing on how genetics have a say in the weight a person can be. But that is not my expertize at all! But you can be more than welcomed to go search and read up on those.

Ive been more open to exposing my skin a little at a time? Like wearing a bikini while in the pool when Im exercising. Ive been very recently trying to get corsets to work out too! Altho whether you like it or not there will be stares from people. But I would say start from the clothes, buy stuff you think would make you strut a runway. Dont just buy tshirts and pants and call it a day. Find a top in your size and fucking go for it. (Altho I understand many curvy people will not be able to find it cheap and Im just saying if you are desperate for the cash.... you can try Shein. Which I understand many Americans are banning and all the problems with fast fashion into overproduction but they do have many plus size clothes that most store dont normally have for people like us so you know its entirely up to you! But I was close to tears when I bought something and it just.... fits you know? Just dont go all out and buy their entire stock. I buy 5XL on there and dont worry about the number being so high, its probably based around the chinese style with their insane standards)

But hey look, people are going to judge no matter what ok? They always will. They will always find a way to trash talk. Its hard to ignore them, I get it. But theyre not you. They dont know if youre trying to loose weight or whether the food youre eating is a reward for having done a week of gym. Id honestly just say the fries are delicious and they should try it and we move on with our day. Its like online haters, you dont waste an hour of your life justifying things to them, so you have no reason to need to justify things to irl people.

I do hope this helps a little? I dont mind dms if you have any other questions of course :3

[imtherainbownow]

I think I need help mentally

I’m warning everyone now, this is a post that will contain dark themes (mostly related to eating and mental issues), if you are sensitive to the topics, I advise you don’t read.

To keep things simple; My life is shit. Mentally at least.

Physically and externally my life couldn’t be more perfect. I have supporting parents. I go to a Great School. I have friends. I’ve got talents that can take me places. Ive got everything lined up for my success.

but mentally I am a disaster. Ive got such bad trauma from authority figures. Im scared to even defy my fucking teachers. Im scared of my aunt because she makes me feel so shitty. My aunt will pop up a lot in this because I see her as the main source of a shit ton of my issues

I cannot read or hear the word scu*c*de without having flashbacks. Even as I type this I’m trying not to hear her damn voice. Just screaming that word at me every time. It’s so loud..

My aunt judges me constantly for the littlest things. Like forgetting to pick up trash, forgetting to say thank you, not remembering if it’s my turn to empty the dishwasher, etc. She’s the main reason why I’ve contemplated going completely mute because she hates it when I talk and makes sure I know.

Recently she’s been nit-picking my eating habits. For almost two years I’ve been struggling to remember to eat at all because my adhd meds reduce my appetite so I just don’t eat lunch. Unfortunately it’s bled into other meals like breakfast and dinner.

Even remembering to eat is an accomplishment for me. In the current moment I don’t care if it’s healthy, I care that I remembered to put food in my body.

About a week ago she grumbled about me not eating “real” food and that I’m the reason we don’t have good snacks in our house. I’m about to cry as I type this. I doubt she thought I could hear her because I had headphones in, but nothing playing. I absolutely heard her.

I’ve told my mother so many times that I want her to move out but my mother won’t do shit. My mother’s been making my eating habits worse cause she won’t let me leave the house without eating at least something, but it’s only been discouraging me from eating. Nowadays even the thought of eating feels slightly sickening. Especially if I’m eating in front of my aunt.

I want nothing to do with her. But she lives with me and I can’t evict her. I’m so sick of this. My anxiety and adhd already make my daily life hard enough during school. And now I’m struggling to even fathom the thought of food because of my aunt. She’s made my life worse and she won’t accept that she can be a problem too. She only ever sees the flaws in me and my twin. Never in herself. I want to fight back but I’m so scared that she’ll yell at me again. That she’ll force me to sit back on the couch and yell in my face. I don’t want to relive that. I don’t know what to do anymore..

I just want help.. and I can’t get it. I don’t want to tell my therapist because he wont believe me. He’s already made it clear I can’t talk to him about my problems with speaking after a sensory overload or panic attack because It’s so exhausting to force myself to talk in a place I don’t feel safe. I don’t think it would be safe to be able to tell him about my problems with eating either. I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless. I have no support that I feel comfortable telling about this. Im scared.. scared of my aunt. Scared of what she’ll do if she finds out how much I hate her. My life looks perfect but I am a mess. And I don’t have the power to fix it. If anyone has any advice, any at all, I would be so grateful. I just want help. That’s all really..

[luckyqueenreign]

My thing with these episodes is I don’t care if Roberto goes for Chloe. I don’t care if Elliot likes me I’d rather he leave me alone ofc. I JUST WANT OZZY. And we know he’s paying attention to us still, he was admiring us for figuring the clues out and obviously where he calls us girlfriend material and such. And grace is full on delusion now like I like Grace but girl please you are in fulll denial you admit you think he might be into someone else. We tell you it’s us. And you still think he’s your boy. Like him choosing her tonight was the best case scenario and that happened and I’m also glad when he talks about her it’s very very platonic. BUT THEY SHOULD HAVE SHOWN HIS ANGRY FACE FOR THE JEALOUSY MOMENT!!!

The things I do for the slowburn routes. But also like I get rep is good but the pride flag bathing suit is just so ugly and so is this dragon fly dress! Why do they spend so much time on the npcs and leave us with the dumpster fire trash outfits AND locking us out of body types skin tones and hair colors other islanders have?? Why can’t I have dark brown hair. 😒

The dragon fly outfit would be better if you remove the sequins, the jewel in the bust and the dragon fly patters. Make it a flowy white sheer fabric with silver and gold accents.

Just throw the whole wardrobe out. I miss s2 MC and s4 MC outfits.

Also AMELIA!! Just tell us you fucked us over at prom with Zeph. If they really write it out like Zeph and Amelia had mutual feelings I WILL ignore it. In my rewrite of the season I will throw that out the window. I love to see Amelia be the real villain. It’s just fun.

Anyways I’m excited for next volume 💀💀

WAIT....we have an Ozzy moment if u dont pick the diamond scene?!?! Immediately going back to play and get my tiny morsel of Ozzy time. TOTALLY agree about the jealous face. Wouldve been so much better than his happy face.

The outfit this week was not cute and if you just use one of your old outfits you already purchased everyone says the same thing. OMG SLAY QUEEN! HES GOING TO DIE WHEN HE SEES U!! bestie ive been wearing this same outfit now everyday...if he didnt die the first time hes not going to on my 3rd rewear.

Literally the Amelia thing is getting so dragged out im at the point of not caring. I do not care about Zeph like at all. The only way Id care about Zeph was if all of a sudden Ozzy turned around one day and said MC I have a confession....im Zeph! and honestly id believe it because they've made us all out to be complete bozos this season.

ALSO SAME 💀💀

[rottytops]

i definitely think the adhd medication (successfully) rewired my brain and made me seek out long term goals over short term pleasure like i have been literally my entire life so now my current goals are to unfuck my credit to move away from my shitty roomies, get my new car and actually get into an ltr lmao

SUPRISINGLY ENOUGH 2 of these 3 goals are either in progress or very obtainable ive been saving a tunna cash and i can get a new car next month after i get my license renewed and ive found this cute little studio that i can maybe move into if i get help co-signing it, then ill just camp out there until my loans are paid off in 50000 years

the last one though.,,,,its so weird. the like. burning fervor to date someone long term kinda slugged me in the back of the head! ive always WANTED a nice relationship but it was never a PRIORITY to me bc i had video games or whatever. these new feelings made me realize ive been living my life like. entirely for myself which is FINE but my standards for myself (combined with how ADHD made me content with literally anything as long as it was easy) make me like. gutter trash tier as a partner, i think. essentially as i am now, unless the other person is equal parts deranged and shitty, im utterly unlovable which is like. tough tits i guess. but if im honest about it i can at least try to change it. part of me is conflicted; if i have to change myself to become more datable, is the person really dating me, or am i just creating a false persona to get conditional love. its a scary thought but at the same time im not really changing MYSELF past getting in shape and taking care of my skin, its more im giving up on being a dopamine addicted manchild and getting my own apartment. with my own car and stuff...these are actually just completely normal goals to have and i already wanted them i just kinda have new motivation for it lmao!

you cant just force a relationship and theres no way im attracting the hoes to me in my shitty room, so i think i need to??? go??? outside??? and hang out with ppl??? utterly mortifying but when i get my car next month i think i can actually do that. id like to make more irl friends as well, i had a bunch of friends in college so. i guess ill go to more smash locals or something but outside of that sigh sigh i have no idea.

these major revelations have all hit me in like the past 2 weeks, since i started my medication and the dosage was upped, i have a lot of work to do and not that much time to do it, really!!!! i hope i can become someone like. worth keeping around in a few months time...!!! the pieces are there i just need to like, put them together....



i could write a whole thing on how mad i am that it took me so long to get medicated and how fast i became a Normal Person after being on meds but like idk that line of thinking doesnt help anybody...!! i accomplished so much even with my debilitating ADHD and now i can do so much more with a mindset that can actually handle the shit neurotypical people expect me to be able to do, considering how im literally good at everything, combined with how ive managed to survive this long with almost no real help from irl people (seriously ive gotten more assistance from my online friends than literally anybody in my family both financially and emotionally) means that me WITH medication is gonna go absolutely insane. im going to be like ultra rich this time next year, probably LMAO....or at least have a boyfriend AURHUFG



anyway if u read this for some reason i love u and also give me ideas on going out and meeting people, i think i can hold a conversation just fine but where do people even GO. do you guys think ppl at bars or whatever know about disgaea. hmmm.

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

I want to make more content for my big huge overarching story ive been building with all these characters, but writing hard, so im just going to hand over a rough draft WIP of the THH survivors about a week after the first danganronpa game, see if I get any interest.

While the door had been opened, the survivors of the killing game did not actually leave the school at first. While the power had gone off inside, there were still many supplies inside and walls to protect them from wind. So they spent their days gathering and making a list of supplies, storing nonperishables to be taken when they eventually had to leave, and prioritizing eating the perishables before they spoiled. Makoto could surprisingly make quite good curry with the ingredients left behind in the kitchen, though he was made to carefully ration the rice by Kyoko. Plus, the distraction of cooking helped distract Makoto from the near constant pain in his leg.

In the service of filling out his lists on every resource they had, Byakuya had already tracked down every sewing kit and tools kit that had been gathering dust in the dorms. Focusing on the sewing kit, he had declared he refused to let the others ruin his clothes in attempts of repairs and began to teach himself to sew. The rest had a feeling it was more of a need to do something with his hands though, as even his would sometimes shake from all that had transpired. They all found something to occupy their time.

It was all fine for the first week, all too busy focused on survival and planning to truly dwell on what had happened in these halls they now willingly took shelter in, but then Yasuhiro had a nightmare.

Bursting into the cafeteria they all still are in, Yasuhiro loudly declared to the others “I saw her!” 

While everyone sighed, Makoto gave a bit of a sheepish smile and asked “Who did you see?” 

“Sayaka! She was like, super mad!” Yasuhiro insisted, hands slamming on the table.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Byakuya sighed, “We don’t have time for this nonsense…”

“No! It was her ghost! I’m sure of it!” Yasuhiro protested, face serious, or well, serious by Yasuhiro standards, “She was like, super mad we left her to rot!”

Gasping and dropping her spoon, Aoi looked up in wide-eyed shock. “I totally forgot! The bodies must just be rotting now that the lab isn’t getting power! We need to do something!”

“Like what? Be reasonable, there's nothing we can do for them.” Byakuya complained, going back to his meal. “Besides, the trash disposal doesn’t work anymore, we can’t cremate them.”

Gasping in horror, Aoi brought her hands to her face “What?! That’s horrifying! I’d never do that to Sakura!”

“Cremation is simply one of the more efficient forms of body disposal!” Byakuya snapped back.

“M-master is right, a-as always. S-so if you really want to do something wi-with the bodies, y-you’ll just have to b-bury them. D-don’t expect me or master to h-help though!” Toko stuttered out, staring adoringly at Byakuya.

“I didn’t tell you you could speak.” Togami said with a sharp second of glare at Toko, Makoto knew better then to intervene, plus secretly, it could sometimes be a bit nice to have a few hours of break from Toko’s…fantasies. 

Putting her hand to her chin, Kyoko thought for a moment, “If it’s not getting power we may not even be able to retrieve the bodies… however there may be parts we can salvage from the science lab. It would be easier to look through it without the bodies in the way. Since it was Hagakure’s idea he can check to see if it can be opened.”

Yasuhiro startled at that, jumping with a small shriek. “You want me to go in there with the bodies?!” Clapping his hands in prayer, he murmured a nonsensical chant for safety and protection to multiple gods, some Makoto was pretty sure were not even real.

Staring deeply into Yasuhiro’s soul which made the clairvoyant shrink back, Makoto was pretty sure that Kyoko could be far scarier then any ghost if she wanted to be. They were all pretty lucky she was on their side. “Is there a problem with that?” She asked in that almost emotionless tone that allowed no argument.

As Yasuhiro babbled on looking for a way out of having to deal with bodies, Togami looked at him with that small cunning almost sadistic smirk that Makoto had long since grown used to. “Well, it’s not like he’s been doing much else in resource collection, he might as well make himself be of some use.”

[savrenim]

the "oh god I'm poor, help" editing+tutoring masterpost

says it all in the title. my life is a flaming trash heap right now which will be less of a flaming trash heap if I actually had enough money to stop my partner from becoming homeless without dipping into my savings every month.

If you want to support me directly: ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/savrenim patreon: https://www.patreon.com/savrenim <- currently am posting early access to all of my writing here, but eventually I will post more exclusive director's commentary style content again

Editing: I can proofread for grammar and provide commentary for both academic essays, fanfiction, and original writing. You can find samples of my writing in the 'my writing' tab, and I do all of my own editing and proofreading. I have been editing as a tutor professionally for over a decade, with repeat customers from my high school days who have used me all throughout college. I reserve the right to turn down any request, but am confident in effectively any subject up through college level, including mathematical proofs. Language English only. Pricing: $10: first up to 500 words $0.01 per additional word For jobs under 10k words, standard turnaround time is 1 week. Per additional 10k words, an additional week is added. For under 10k words, rush prices are: -> Additional $1 per 1k words for 5 day turnaround -> Additional $3 per 1k words for 3 day turnaround -> Additional $5 per 1k words for 24 hour turnaround Rush jobs over 10k words for negotiated prices.

Tutoring: I have tutored for over 15 years now; including three years professionally in college, leading math study rooms, TAing in graduate school for four years, and even fully teaching college courses. Subjects: any high school math; precalc, calc i,ii,iii,iv, differential equations, linear algebra, abstract algebra, real analysis, dynamical systems, number theory, proofs/mathematical reasoning. other general math/physics topics may be possible albeit at higher rates as that requires more prep work on my end. What It Looks Like: send me the homework assignment, test study guide, or topic (including textbook and chapter if relevant) at least 24 hours in advance. tutoring sessions will be held on discord, where I will screenshare a digital blackboard. at the end of the session, after full payment is made, I will send you the pdf of everything covered in the session. Pricing: $1/ min ; half hour minimum for sessions, then done in additional 15 minute increments. pay half in advance, half on completion of the session. payment accepted through ko-fi or venmo only.

[braintapes]

man i know ive been reblogging a lot of posts abt how awful the job hunt is but truly. genuinely. the whole thing is just so utterly thoroughly completely fuckin Borked dude. fully just Does Not Work

job listings are either fake, scams, inaccurate to the role they want filled, poorly written, written by someone who doesn't know what the job is supposed to entail, are either way too short or way too long, and/or by and large don't include the actual information you actually for real actually NEED to know whether the job is worth your time to apply for, such as, i dunno, the salary. your actual everyday job duties and what you Actually need to perform them. an absurd amount go out of their way to specify just how able bodied you need to even Think about Breathing on the job listing (very) even when that's blatantly false because fuck anyone with a disability i suppose.

assuming some of the jobs are, in fact, real jobs that someone would like filled by a human person to perform a series of tasks, you still may not have a good selection. depending on location you could be out of luck for any halfway decent work. there's a billion positions open for things you Know you can't do. the jobs all seem to come in the following flavors: entry level (but you must have 1-2 years experience in this field) entry level (must have a masters degree a phd and 6-10 years experience) and entry level (must have 5 years experience and be willing to lift an entire house's weight in manual labor every single day with no break)

if you don't have experience having a job well. sucks to suck i guess!

but whatever. okay. find some promising (read: seemingly not fake/scam) listings. go to apply. upload a resume you spent hours poring over to make sure ATS wouldn't mangle it while also keeping it professional and with all the relevant information to make you look as good as possible to prospective employers. the company website then takes the resume you uploaded (in the correct format) and dumps it in the trash. manually write down all of the information in their little text boxes please! oh and also make an account with all your personal information to even have the privilege of getting to fill out this application. mandatory work history information required. fill out this questionnaire - just be sure not to step on the mines and answer a question Wrongly. "why do you want to work at this company?" write an essay for us detailing the most personal aspects of yourself. dont click the buttons that masquerade as offering accommodations and diversity inclusion because theyll actually just set all of this on fire if youre actually honest. grovel in our uncaring text boxes about how badly you want to be part of our team and how YOU can best serve US you worthless dog. slowly crawl your way out of the last circle of hell so you can be done with the application. click the last button. write the last bit of forced-smile text so your teeth dont feel like they're going to shatter apart anymore

wait for weeks. then for months only for a rejection long since youve moved on. assuming you get a response, as the standard now seems to be ghosting. repeat process again and again and again and AGAIN. endlessly. scraping and clawing and begging. youre not grovelling enough. youre not kneeling and cowering and pleading hard enough. the people in your life who Do have jobs cant seem to understand why youre so distressed by it all because, well, They got jobs so Why Can't You? repeat process. repeat process. repeat process.

on a rare occasion, get a response (!!) and make it to the interview stage (!!!!!) which as it turns out is not actually a discussion about the job and how youd fit into it but a vibes check where you prostrate yourself once again to the hiring manager and they decide if they personally like you enough as someone they'd want to hang out with on the weekends to let you in. high chance to fail this immediately if you are some kind of minority, but because they dont want to get in trouble for discrimination, they instead Make Up A Reason not to hire you which then makes it perfectly fine because you can't prove the real reason. browse through your email to see the other rejections. repeat process.

remember that for every application you send out youre competing with hundreds of other desperate people who just need some money to god damned Survive. try to go find advice and find that everything is so heavily weighted in favor of employers it might as well be a fucking black hole (which would be apt considering everyones applications magically disappear) so the only advice anyone can give is pithy little platitudes about how you should look and act and speak and dress and behave and make sure youre grovelling! have you tried grovelling!! are you doing that enough because if you arent well it really is your fault isnt it then!

god and like even if you GET a job it's still a shit job and there's still no ladder any more. there's no Progression it's just moving horizontally across various shit jobs. even the "easiest" jobs to get hired at, customer service jobs, retail, food service, etc, are so terrible you arent treated like a human being by basically anyone from customers to managers. you arent allowed to sit down. you need to grovel STILL. to your boss. to customers. constantly. for 10 dollars an hour, probably less depending on location. but you have to agree to work all their horrible shifts for 10 hours a day on your feet no sitting 2 15 minute breaks fuck man. fuck. FUCK. WHAT IS ANYONE SUPPOSED TO DO AT THIS POINT?????

[mildmayfoxe]

ok i’m going back to work tomorrow for real this time (ugh) so i’ve taken out the mountains of recycling (millions of gatorade bottles), emptied the dishwasher, washed all my various cups & my roommates coffee machine implements that i’ve been using, dumped out the living room trash (full of all my thousands of tissues), cleaned up all the things i’d thrown around the kitchen & living room the past few days, put away the folding table ive had out for three days. tomorrow i need to go to target after work & buy toilet paper (only ONE roll left!! good thing i’m allowed to leave the house again!!) and more cough drops (ive literally gone through two bags over the past two weeks which seems unreal) & also dishwasher soap. i should clean the bathroom & sweep the house before my roommate comes home because she wants to have a party on nye