#like why couldn't my peers have treated me like this when i was 11?

[goodplace-janet]

as a person who was bullied and excluded as a kid and had a pretty lonely childhood, i'm always pleasantly surprised and so grateful when my fellow college students are friendly and make an effort to include me. and like i make sure to be friendly in return and a good classmate and not make it weird or anything, but there's a little part of my heart quietly breaking for my past self who didn't get this and instead experienced the opposite at a formative age

[ollieofthebeholder]

So my mom has been part of a pirate crew for the last seven or eight years (maybe more). This is a local guy who used to go to our church - so an old friend - and it started off as him dressing up as a pirate to give out candy on Halloween, then he started decorating his garage to look like a treasure cave, then it snowballed. Now it's a two-night event the weekend before Halloween - one low-sensory night for people with autism, PTSD, people who don't like jump scares, whatever, and one night where the scary factor gets turned up to 11. (They also now do events throughout the year, like fantasy events at the aquarium and pirate weekends and the like. They're children's entertainment, not historical reenactment.) My mom loves it, and she's REALLY into it. She's one of the longest-serving crew members at this point, beside the captain and his wife.

This year they had a lot of people who couldn't make the Treasure Cave - one of the core members had a wife about to give birth, one just hasn't been heard of, people were out of town, there's a nasty bug going around - so my mom had asked me a few weeks back if I would help out. Against my better judgment, I agreed. The captain put me in a new "scene". Basically, I stood in front of an archway of branches, lit inside with blue pool lights, and told the children that I'd heard there was a wishing well back there and was going to make a wish; when I came out, I asked if they were having a good time, then when they said "yes" I happily informed them that I'd got my wish, and asked for the password ("Trick or Treat") to give them candy.

I realized very quickly on the first night that the captain had VASTLY underestimated how many kids would want to go and look for the "wishing well" themselves, so I called on my TTRPG-honed improv skills and informed them that I'd been told about the alleged well by another crew member, who'd been on the island last year but was training somewhere else this year. I then informed them that said crew member was my brother, and that we liked to play jokes on each other, and I thought maybe this was a joke - and that since we were grown-ups, sometimes our jokes got dangerous, so if there was a monster or a dangerous trap back there, I didn't want the "visitors" getting hurt. I basically told all of them that "If you hear me screaming, or I don't come back - tell the captain when you see him that it's Bonesaw's fault he's down a crew member!"

That mostly kept them in check. MOSTLY.

A few highlights:

The startlingly high number of kids who were fully prepared to fight God for me and eyed me skeptically when I said I would go myself.

The kid who fearfully asked "why are you drawing your dagger?" as I pulled it out to advance into the glade.

The kid who said in a voice somewhere between fearful and resigned, "Please don't scream."

The child who solemnly informed me that they ALWAYS believed everything their brother and sister told them (bonus points for the look of "oh I'm going to have fun with that later" said child's older sister shot them).

Child: "Are you a boy pirate or a girl pirate?" Me: "No, but thank you for asking." Child: "Oh, cool!"

The eight-month-old child who obviously couldn't say "trick or treat" or "thank you" yet, but who, when I asked him to give me a fist bump, stared at me and then reached out to softly grab my knuckles for a second.

The child who ducked down to peer into the "glade" when I was doing my spiel, then solemnly informed me (and the rest of the group) that there WAS a well back there, he saw it.

The child who thought he was being clever by saying "treat or trick" instead of "trick or treat" and then bluescreened when I replied with a deadpan "what would you do if I said 'trick'?"

The group that, when offered the choice two stations on from me to bypass the isolated super-scary portion where the "Shadow" lurked, split in half with only three children choosing to go into the scary portion. The instant the Shadow spoke, the boy dressed as Iron Man noped right out of there, backing out and heading on to the storyteller (my mom). When the screaming started, the child dressed as weddnesday Addams (5ish) came charging out like it was actually on her tail, whereas the small child dressed as a chicken (2ish) sauntered out nonchalantly and had to actually be dragged by her mother, since she was clearly not bothered in the slightest.

The single lowlight:

The brat in the ninja costume with two katanas crossed on her back and a dagger in her belt who loudly and derisively declared that there was no well back there, that I was making it all up, and then led the rest of her group in responding with "NO" when I asked if they were having a good time. (I blinked at her for a second, then looked her dead in the eye and said, "Well, then, I suppose you were right about there not being a well, because I didn't get my wish.")

Her mother hissed at her to "just play along". She didn't. I didn't hear what she did at the next station (the Sea Witch) because I was too busy drifting over to warn my mother, but I did watch her go into the Shadow's lair and then, when the group was chased out by the Shadow, duck into the trees and draw her katanas, clearly intending to go back into the lair and either cause trouble or prove that it was just some people in costumes. (I shouted over to the guide for the group - who'd developed a bit with my mom about how she couldn't count and wasn't entirely sure if she had the same number of people as she went in with - that she'd lost one, and they had to practically drag her out of the trees.)

Apparently every single station had trouble with her except, ironically, my mom, and that only because she saw the hip scarf from Mom's belly dance days sitting on the table and asked what it was and Mom let her try it on, so she was too distracted by that to say anything nasty about Algernon being a puppet and not a real mouse. She even apparently backtalked the captain when he gave his speech at the end of the tour about being kind and "plundering smiles". He was not pleased when he found out she'd been giving everyone problems.

[vixendoesstuff]

GOT SOME MORE IDEAS FOR THE SILLIES!!11!!!

So after some deliberate thinking (that is daydreaming about it in class and almost getting in trouble for it) I think I got some more concrete backstory ideas for my OC's. Mighty thanks to @/nerdfins for their help to me navigating the endless amounts of lore and worldbuilding this series has, seriously, why is there so many-

After some research, I decide to change their names. Their names are now Horizon (the Decepticon) and Buckle Up (Autobot).

For Horizon, apparently when I looked it up there's already a character named Hurricane, a "Turbomasters' Defense Tactics Specialist", whatever that is. For Buckle Up, Velocity already exist (a medic for the Lost Light) along with Boombox, apparently. I know it's probably fine if I went with the same character name (these characters are kinda niche) but I just wanna be safe.

Because of the many continuities in the series and how it potrays things, I'll try to keep their stories brief so it can be adapted to different universes if I want to.

Anyway, onto the ramble!

Horizon

As we all know, Velocitron is dubbed the Speed Planet, where everything is centered around how fast one can go, whether it be political issues or just daily life. And as a Velocitron native, Horizon understood that if he were to be recognized by society, he has to follow then norms of the world. But as time goes on, he grew disillusioned by the notion, pained that his worth is determined by how fast he is, and so began rebelling; not participating in races, refusal to modify his components to increase his speed, and generally keeping to himself.

This lead to his ostracization by his peers for how "slow" he is. Never mind that he's one of the few who has a Flier alt-mode in the planet, that just put a target on his back. After loads of backlash and harassment, he couldn't take it, and decide to leave the planet for Cybertron, where he could hopefully live a far more relaxed life.

Somehow it's even worse.

Back in Velocitron, all that was expected of you is how fast can you go in a race track. In Cybertron, your entire existence is put into question, and it determines what kind of life you lead until the end of time. He was forced to work as cargo, and while it was better than risking his life on high speed races, it brought the same amount of helplessness he felt back in his home planet. Seeing the higher ups treat the lower caste bots as nothing but tools doesn't help his case, either.

He grew anger, bitter, mortified. He escaped one bad life situation, only to end up in another, even worse one. It seems like a never ending nightmare for him.

Then he heard whispers from below, about a Cybertronian who swore to destroy the system that governs their planet, to make a new world where everyone is treated equal, where the weak won't have to suffer under the hands of the mighty.

When the Decepticon name was spread across the planet, he was inspired. When their attacks made waves, he was one of many who joined arms with them as a result.

But looking back, was that really the best choice for him?

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Buckle Up

Some say his build is too large for him to be a native Praxian. And to that, he'd say they're right. Technically speaking, the city is not his place of origin. But he's spent so long in them that if anyone asked, it's much simpler to say that he's Praxian.

Not that the experiences he went through there made it worthwhile, though.

He, along with many Sparklings of various ages and origins, all lived in a large, single housing unit governed by their Guardian (he never got to know their name). With so many Sparks in one place, not a day goes by without some sort of fight or commotion happening. And the frequent absence of their "Guardian" doesn't help things. The older 'bots practically had to take over the role to keep some semblance of order around the house.

He got along with some 'bots (even getting closer to one particular bot) but he couldn't help but despise some others. As the years go by, he craved for something more, something lying beyond the walls of his home. And so, once he got his adult frames, he paid farewell to his house mates and got out of Praxus, wanting to see what Cybertron has to offer.

During his travels he gained an appreciation for musical arts, and began searching for job opportunities regarding that genre. Of course, with his build and origin, not many places were willing to take him in. He managed to snag a few spots, but it became unsatisfactory for him as time went on, so he'll quit those. He made frequent visits to his old home every once in a while. Rinse and repeat, this was his life; monotonous.

He did heard rumors of a Cybertronian rising through the ranks, who's determined to beat the corrupt system that governs their planet. He'd be lying when he said he isn't rooting for the guy.

That's until the destruction of Praxus reached his audials. He was in Iacon when it happened. He rushed back to his home as fast as his wheel could take him. But all that was left for him was nothing but rubble, and no sign of online Sparks. Not even the one whom he cherished the most.

When a call for arms is broadcasted by the Autobots, he threw himself into the brutal training to avenge those he lost.

Vengeance can influence a lone soul through many things. But will it lead them to the right path?

And that's a wrap! This is all I could think of for my OC's as of right now, so if y'all have any questions or suggestions for me about them, go wild! I'll honestly take whatever ya give me, this franchise has so many lore it's driving me crazy. Until then, take care!

[crvstybowlofcereal]

(hey moots, this one's gonna get a little personal about me, avert your eyeballs)

Dear 13 year olds (and surrounding ages, ie 12-15 or whatever)

Being your age IS hard, and I'm so sorry people try to brush it off and say you "don't know anything about adult problems and stress"

They just Forgot what it's like to be your age.

12-15 was the Worst time in my life, and no one took me seriously.

From 11-14 I was bullied and I couldn't even figure out why. It was like the entire school (minus like a handful of people) were out to get me and my friends.

When I was 13 I was being cyberstalked by pedophiles.

When I was 13/14 one of my friends tried to pressure me into dating him (despite knowing I'm gay), he told many many lies, and even tried to threaten suicide.

I had friends going in and out of the mental hospital during middle school, and we didn't have reliable communication so they would just be gone from school and I didn't know if they were okay.

Puberty caused me a lot of problems, including but not limited to gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, and my sensory disorder severely worsening (I couldn't make it through the day without a meltdown, and God forbid you melt down in front of middle schoolers, so i would hold it in all day and go home and SOB)

I had my heart broken at 12, but who takes it serious when you're that young?

My grades fell from As for the first time ever when I got to middle school, and my parents got mad at me for it (today they would deny that statement, but I carried it with me)

From 12-16 I was in the depths of an eating disorder

I had so many loved ones in my life passing away, and no one really checked up on me.

The one opportunity I had to see a therapist, my mom wanted us to talk about my "anger issues"

Your peers expect you to have independence and expensive things like clothes (at least mine did) while you have no license and no job. God forbid you grow up poor I guess.

You're becoming aware of the world for the first time, the social and political climate, the push to be perfect in every way, and you really become aware of all the ways you don't fit in, or aren't "good enough"

At this age especially they want you to act like an adult while being treated like a child.

So I am so sorry you're having to deal with so much and people think it's funny when you say so. You are always welcome to vent to me if you need a shoulder to cry on. Because i Remember being your age. You are not alone.

[uselessboss]

Ente & Vivre's Story (Chapter 2)

“What is this place?” Vivre inquired, gluing her back to the wall.

“Inside the daycare's infirmary” Ente replied as he sat back on the chair, rubbing the area he had hit on his head when he fell. “I couldn't simply leave you unconscious on the floor which was why I took you in"

“You were the one who knocked me out"

“I didn't have a choice. Even if I was confident enough to take your attack head on I would rather not risk the chance of my Daycare being destroyed"

“…”

Ente sighs and picks the chair he was sitting in to place some distance from her.

“Is this distance ok?”

“What an odd man". She thought as she slowly and carefully uncurled from her defensive position to sit at the edge of the bed, not taking her eyes from him the entire time in case it was a trap.

Ente didn't move an inch as she did so.

It didn't make any sense.

She attacked him with the intention to kill and even threatened, albeit indirectly, to destroy his workplace. By all rights he should have treated her with hostility and suspicion, aggression even, and yet she couldn't detect any ill will or animosity from him. Instead, and to her surprise, he had been nothing but mindful and courteous towards her.

“…Is there any food you like?”

“Pardon?”

“You know, a “comfort food"? Something you eat to feel better when you are upset?" he explained. “Specially after a nightmare"

She froze in alarm.

“Don't worry, you didn't divulge any revealing information about yourself" he reassures her. “I asked more so because you looked rather distressed in your sleep”

She searched his face to see if there was any falsehood in his words.

There was none. Ente did not avert his gaze as she peered into the doors of his soul, his amber eyes shining true and clear. They were like liquid gold, conveying warmth, honesty and genuine care.

"...Omelettes" She mumbled after a while.

"Oh? Omelettes? What kind of omelettes?"

"What do you mean "What kind"?"

"As in your "preferences". Is there anything in special you would like me to add to it?"

Something special...

"...Cheese, basil and oregano"

"Cheese, basil and oregano?" Ente arches his eyebrow in surprise.

"Is that a problem?" Now it was her turn to arch an eyebrow at his odd reaction.

"No, it's just..." Ente shakes his head before smiling. "Nevermind. Please wait here, I will go to the kitchen to prepare your food"

He quickly exits the room.

She waited a few more moments until she could no longer hear his footsteps to then throw the covers out, quickly putting the shoes next to the bed and then jumping out of it.

What time was it? How long has she been out unconscious?

Her eyes darted around until they landed on the clock high up on the wall above the window.

09:00 A.M

"09:00 a.m?" Her eyes blinked in surprise.

Even accounting for the setback of having to wait out until he was completely alone and their exchange of blows, the time the events transpired would probably not go past 11:00 p.m, which meant she had been out cold for, at the very least, 10 hours straight.

It was unprecedented for her. Because of her constant nightmares she suffered from having either an intense insomnia that barred her from getting any sleep or, when she did manage to get some of it, it resulted in her waking up in a cold sweat after a few hours. It came to a point where it was required the aid of sleeping pills to help her get any semblance of proper rest and even then it still left her feeling tired.

"And yet I don't feel worn out for once." She noted as she rotated her shoulders, the usual soreness from stress and tension being absent. Her chest felt somewhat lighter and her head more clear and sharp than usual. Her mind not crumbling from the mental strain and spiritual exhaustion either. For the first time in so long she woke up feeling... Refreshed.

She walked around the room, this time opting to take things in more calmly.

"Is that a diffusor?" she stopped in front of the small machine. "It still has a residual smell to it. There are also some small flasks of essential oils next to it"

She checked the back of the flasks.

"Oils for insomnia, sleeping aid, lowering stress, anxiety and relaxation"

"...You looked rather distressed in your sleep”

Now that she thought about it her shoes were also neatly placed next to her bed. Did he take them out to make her more comfortable?

"..."

"I must be going crazy" Vivre sighs as she walks back to the bed, placing her shoes in its initial position and sitting at the edge.

Might as well as wait for him to return.

"Thanks for waiting" Ente chirped as he entered the room, a plate with a fluffy and golden omelette in hands alongside a fork and knife to the side. "I hope it's to your liking"

She carefully picked the offered plate from his hands, placing it on her lap. Taking the knife and fork she cuts a small piece, marvelling as a generorous string of cheese dripped from the inside of the folded omelette.

She took a bite.

"So? How is it?"

"...It's good" she breathes softly.

"I'm glad to hear that." Ente smiles. "You can leave your plate on the desk after you are done, I will wash it later. I will be cleaning the daycare so if you need anything just call me ok?"

He leaves the room again.

She takes another bite of the omelette, a small smile unconsciously sprouting from her lips.

It's... Exactly like the one her brother used to make to her. Thick and fluffy eggs, fresh basil and oregano leaves with a generous helping of melting cheese inside. It was cooked to perfect detail, even down to the olive oil used to make it, something that she didn't even mention to him.

"It's delicious"

How long has it been since she last tasted food? When eating didn't become an obligation, just "nourishment" to keep her body functioning? When was the last time she ate because it was something she enjoyed to do?

The familiar scents and flavors brought her back to an earlier childhood. To happier times. Back to when a little girl could still be reassured that everything would be alright by her "family".

'You don't deserve salvation'

=0=0=

"For now it's better to let her eat by herself" Ente mused to himself as he closed the door behind him.

Maybe after she became less wary of him she would be willing to answer his questions?

"...I wonder if it was just a coincidence" he mumbles as he picks the broom from the storage to sweep the floor. "For her comfort food to be the same as mine"

White beaten separetely from the yolk. Use of fresh oregano and basil leaves, omelette cooked on olive oil and folded in half as a generous serving of cheese was sandwiched inside. Whenever he was upset or when he had a bad dream his father would cook it for him. It was a recipe he learned from his mother Grimoire, which was apparently something her own mother, his grandmother, had cooked for her to cheer her up when she was little.

It was a flimsy connection and he might have been reading too much into it, but her reaction when she took a bite of his food told him otherwise.

That wasn't the reaction of someone tasting something "similar" to their request. The way her eyes softened, the way the dish made her unconsciously smile... There was too much familiarity in it. Like she recognized it as if she was eating the real thing. A personal and cherished experience.

It was a puzzling conundrum to say the least. To have a grudge towards his family and yet, at the same time, to derive comfort and solace from the same source? Was she not aware of its connection?

"What a mysterious woman"

He was no stranger to being targeted due to being the "Son of Grimoire Miller" and the "Grandson of Euryale Miller", he understood the connection that was there- Revenge, ressentment and hatred towards the ones who had slain their loved ones. The Reapers to the Remnants of their onslaught. That was what bound their fates together.

However this woman seemed... Different. He couldn't place his finger on the exacts of why, but it was what he thought so. It looked as if her connection ran far deeper than the other cases, far more...

CRASH!

The sound of a loud crash brought him out of his thoughts.

It came from the infirmary!

"Is everything alright?!" He opened the door in a frantic hurry.

What was once a plate now laid on the floor, fragments scattered everywhere, the porcelain pieces covering the floor like white snow and probably the source of the crash he had heard earlier if he had to guess.

"Uh... Ugh... HACK!COUGH! Aaah..."

He found her in the middle of that mess. Kneeling on all fours, paying no mind to the shards digging into her skin and making it bleed a deep red. Her entire body trembled, breathing haggard and fitful as she emptied the contents of her stomach on the floor.

"H-Hey, what's wrong? What happened?" he crouched next to her, trying to call for her and avoiding any physical contact so to not startle her, but not receiving any answer nor reply back.

Her entire face was covered in sweat and her chest heaved with effort as if she couldn't get enough oxygen inside her lungs. Her eyes were unseeing and glassy, like her mind wasn't quite there. She was totally unresponsive, not even the pain from the cuts in her hands being able to snap her out of her state.

"You are going to get yourself more hurt if you keep staying on top of those shards" he gently touched her arm, deciding that even if she snapped at him it was still a better course of action than allowing her to injury herself further. "Here. Let me hel-"

He didn't have even a time to finish his sentence. Before he could process what happened he felt his back harshly hit the floor, some of the sharp fragments digging through the fabric of his shirt and the person above him roughly pressing him down.

"What must have triggered this situation?" He thinks as he struggles against the hands closing around his neck.

She was fine when he had left her. Both the first and second time. There were no signs of unrest and distress otherwise he would have picked it up with his high supernatural sensitivity and as far as he could tell from scanning his surroundings there was nothing out of ordinary nor out of place to signal a potential source of trigger. The most he could do was narrow down the timeframe of the events, which was probably when he had left her alone by herself the last time he exited the room.

There was not enough information to work with. He didn't know her nearly enough to pinpoint the cause of her trauma.

Heck! He didn't even have a name to call her for to try and shake her out of her trance.

"There must be a way. I can't simply give up now"

Something that could get a reaction from her. Something like...

"H-Hey, you know what? This omelette is also my comfort food" He raised his voice in hopes of catching her attention. "It's something simple and quick to make but there's also so much thought behind it don't you think? At least that was something I always thought while I watched my father prepare it. Separating white from yolks, beating it to make it extra fluffy and using fresh leaves to make it even tastier. I could tell how much care and love went into it"

He kept rambling on and on about his appreciation, towards the food and the person behind it.

There was no definitive proof. Perhaps the omelette was her comfort food just because she liked it with no complicated feelings attached to it, but he was willing to bet, bet that the reason to why it was so special was because someone made it to be so. That behind it was a gesture of kindness that echoed in her heart, a precious memory that couldn't be forgotten nor erased.

"W-What about you? Did you also have someone like that? Someone that would make it to cheer you up?" he gasped, trying his best to keep his voice from faltering. "What you felt when they made it?"

What she felt...

'I learned this recipe to make it for you Vivre. How does it taste? I hope it came off ok'

There was no need for her brother to make her food as they had someone in charge of cooking at their home but he did it anyway. To make it personal, to make sure that there would be always someone available to cheer her up, even if she woke up at the crack of the dawn because she missed their parents. The gesture brought her immense comfort and warmth. It made her feel blessed and forever grateful for having a kind and loving brother who always went beyond and above for her sake.

'You liked it? I'm glad. If you want me to make it again then you only need to ask. You don't need to hold back. As long as I am by your side I will keep making it'

"It... Made me immensely happy" she whispered.

"You are back"

She blinked a few times before looking down at the source of the voice.

It was Ente. He laid bellow her, smiling weakly at her as he held on her wrists, her hands enveloping his neck like she was about to...

"Ah!" she quickly let go of his neck and tried to strumble back only for Ente to hold her in place.

"Watch out!" he stopped her. "There are broken shards everywhere on the floor. It's better if you calm down first otherwise you would risk hurting yourself again"

She nodded as Ente let her go. Taking a deep breath she slowly got out of him and stood up with Ente following her soon after.

"Sit back on the bed. I will pick the things needed to treat your wounds" Ente didn't wait for her reply as he opened one of the cabinets, taking several items from it including a tweezer. "Just in case of any shard being embedded in your skin"

She placed her outstretched palm on top of his waiting hand.

With practiced ease Ente picked the small splinters of porcelain, dropping them on a napkin he had placed in his lap. He made sure to check his work thoroughly, carefully turning her hand from one side to another against the light to make sure no fragments were left and then procedding to disinfect her wounds by gently dabbing the cuts with the cotton balls embedded with medicine.

"How do you feel... Humm...." his hands hesitated for a split second while in the process of dressing her wounds, his voice unsure for a moment before he shakes his head and just go for it. "Ms... Swan?"

"Swan?" Her body goes completely rigid.

How did he know her name?

"I need a name to address you by" He explains. "And I doubt you would be willing to offer your real one"

"... Why "Swan" of all names?" Vivre asks, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"W-Well..." Ente stutters, flustered. "I remembered our fight and it came to mind that you move quite gracefully. Like a ballerina or an aquatic bird gliding through the waters of a lake, hence "Swan"."

"..."

"But if you dislike it then I can come up with another"

"... No. "Swan" is fine"

"Then... Ms. Swan" Ente tentatively uses the name. "How does it feel? Are the bandages too tight?"

"No. They are fine. Thank you"

"Good" Ente sighed in relief as he dropped everything in a separated trash bag and then dropping a couple of paper towels to cover the "mess" on the floor. "I will clean this later. First I need to make some Chamomile tea for you"

"Why?"

"Chamomile tea is good for an upset stomach." Ente plays off. "And if you don't wash the sour taste from your mouth it might make you feel sick again"

"...I will take up on your offer then"

Ente knew it wasn't sickness. He was just playing dumb and not probing her about what had happened to avoid making feel uncomfortable.

He was, once again, trying to be considerate of her feelings.

"Here it is" he brought her a mug. "Be careful. It's a bit hot"

"Thank you"

He smiled back at her and then proceed to work on cleaning the mess on the floor, not uttering a single complaint despite all the trouble she had caused him.

As she sipped her tea and watched him work her eyes were drawn to his neck. To the bruises and cuts, to the marks of fingers, her fingers, imprinted on his skin.

"Ok. I cleaned every-"

"Would you allow me to treat your wounds?"

"Huh?" Ente blinked in surprise.

"There were shards and splinters in my hand. Some might have embedded themselves in your skin and it might be hard for you to check for them yourself"

"..."

She dropped her eyes to the floor, feeling rather awkward and foolish.

What was she doing? She was the reason for those wounds being there in the first place. There was absolutely no way he would allow her to-

She hears the sound of a chair being dragged closer, making her thoughts screech to a halt.

"Ok" Ente surprises her by placing the medical supplies by her side and tilting his head up to give her better access to his neck.

"Wha-"

WAS HE MAD?!

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!" She asks in bewilderment. "How can you easily offer your neck to me after I tried to strangle you just a few moments ago???"

"You are the one who offered to treat my wounds you know?" Ente points out.

"Yes, but still! I also tried to attack you once before that. Have you no sense of self-preservation? Or survival instincts for that matter"

"I can't feel any ill will coming from you" He closes his eyes. "So I see no reason to refuse your offer"

There were plenty of reasons to refuse. Vivre thought with a sigh.

...But might as well as do it then.

"... I don't see any splinters" she peers closer to his neck. "Good"

She starts to clean the cuts and blood staining his neck, wincing in grimace as she uncovered the purple bruises underneath it.

She really did a number on him huh?

After making sure to also rub some arnica oinment on the marks she bandages his neck, making sure to be as careful and thorough as he was when treating her wounds.

"... How is it?" She asks as Ente touches his bandages.

"It's quite comfortable, thank you" he absently replies.

He stares at her.

"...What?" She asks

"You have gentle hands"

"H-Huh?!" she stutters due to the unexpected and out of nowhere compliment.

"The reason you want to kill me is out of revenge right?"

"I..."

Now what was with this sudden question being sprung out of nowhere?

"Yes." She answered truthfully.

"The one who died. Was it a family member?"

"..."

"...I see"

Silence befell then after that. The air heavy and tense, her breath caught in antecipation as Ente's eyes fluttered in deep thought, his brows furrowing as he debated with himself about whether he should utter the next words or not.

"Were you present when it happened?"

Blood. The lifeless corpse on her brother. His heart skewered with the same weapon she tried to use to protect him. From her. From the woman of gold hair. The scary woman that supposedly meant the world for her brother, the one...

"Wow. No wonder you feel that way." Ente lets out a humorless laugh. "You must really hate me huh?"

"... Is what I would like to say, but I'm not so sure anymore" He sighs, a complicated look on his face. "Meeting you confused me"

"What are you-"

"I have a request for you" He abruptly cuts, refusing to elaborate more about his cryptic statement.

"...What request?"

"Please keep coming here"

"For what purpose would you make such request?" She arched her eyebrow in puzzlement and bewilderment.

"I want to clear these doubts in my heart" Ente explains, placing a hand above his chest. "... And I have this feeling that If I keep interacting with you then I will be able to find, for better or for worse, the answers to those questions that are plaguing me."

That uncertainty in his voice...

Somehow she found herself relating to it.

Her irrational actions, her feelings being at odds with each other and her own budding hesitancy... She needed to clear those doubts.

"Very well, I... Accept your terms"

'Don't betray me'

[it-was-yxu]

Was going through some suuuper old notebooks from when I was in 8th grade (12-14) and hoooollly shit I am.. so glad I got therapy??

PSA don't let your kids have unsupervised internet access at 11-14, it definitely damaged me like a LOT lmfao Also wouldn't recommend letting your kids under 12 watch horror movies 🫡

I had so much anger and trauma in me and I didn't know why and despite all of my art and writing being frankly disturbing back then, it's all just really sad to look back on tbh cuz I didn't know why I was so angry a(nd sad) all the time and I hated it and myself so much :( Like I didn't remember my trauma at the time, had no idea just how mentally ill I was, still figuring out my sexuality and gender all while being screamed at or neglected at home and bullied by my peers and harassed by teachers who didn't understand me and why I couldn't pay attention even when I didn't have a phone or anything to doodle on in front of me because it was my thoughts that were the distraction, the doodling actually helped me focus uggghhhh

Idk it's 3 am and I'm thinking sooo much about teenage me, wanna hug that lil fucker it's not they're fault they acted the way they did, they didn't know any better and so much shit was normalized by the fandom spaces they were in and soooo many people took advantage of them or treated them like shit because of it :(

[wornoutmouse]

@midoriyaprofessionalslut

I can't even begin to describe the ask I received so I'm just going to leave screenshots😅😅

Also in the new mha season, I thought Tsu was being petty when she called Mineta Grape-Juice and Shoji Tentacle. But nope, those are their hero names.

Side note: I feel like when Mineta gets old and knows how to work his quirk better, he'll be able to control if they stick or not.

Slight racism, usual smut.

NOT PROOF READ SO LET ME KNOW IF U SEE SOMETHING

 If you imagine Mineta as in the picture above and with a mature voice, this is more enjoyable. Or you can imagine someone else entirely.. Cause even as someone who's tolerant to Mineta I can't imagine him getting any hoes much less smashing (at least not on top). It would be like watching a chiwawa top a mastiff. 

"This is some bullshit." You shuffle through various papers on your desk, each containing the receipts of Pro-Hero Grapejuice's celebratory purchases. Most of it was random appliances that could in no way be used on a day-to-day basis, but there were others….a shiver goes down your spine, there were others that were just downright perverted. "What even is a nub tickler?" 

Being an accountant was something you were good at, the numbers came easy and it was interesting to see the income and ways of business that different people in power displayed. Planning meetings and getting the occasional phone call made everything a breeze, but it wasn't what you wanted to do. Or in better words, this was not whom you wanted to work for. Even being number 6 causes the workload to be higher than should be physically possible in the hero world. That's one of the reasons you never gave praise to the rankings because no matter how low in the chain, a hero’s work is always taxing. 

Shifting in your seat you look at the analog clock on your desk. 3:45, you were supposed to come to work at 5:30 which means you once again have no time to sleep. Having these late nights had increased 10 fold whenever Mineta went up in rank even by a little. His way of celebrating was spending his money carelessly and leaving you to fix the balance. Though you supposed it may be your fault for never objecting when he barged in your office showing his trinkets as well as leaving his credit card.

"Yeah, it's time to go." You muttered as you read the words, "Dwarf Cow in the left lot of Wisconsin."

 The next hour, you take a detour from your office for the first time in months. Heading down the hall you watch the walls go from the pale greys to deep purple and violet splotches splattered along the wall before it inevitably melds into solid purple walls as you get closer to the front door of his office.

Hesitantly you knock on the door and wait until a muffled "Come in." Rings through the thick wood. The room itself was just as flamboyant as the walls leading to it. A beautiful fuchsia carpet on the floor made you realize that calling in your two weeks would have been better than walking into the Willy-Wonka factory that was this office. Various spherical decorations hung from the chandelier, and even something as simple as the legs of his desk was made up of crystal spheres.

The man himself sat perfectly balanced on a large purple ball most likely of his own creation, meanwhile, various children sat around him slipping and sliding on smaller balls in an attempt to copy him. "Ah, here is my beautiful assistant!" The compliment made you cringe as you fiddled with the end of the sleep-wrinkled white blouse you had worn for 2 days straight. "Can we talk sir? It is important." Mineta raised an eyebrow at your formal speech before shrugging. 

In an extravagant display of balance, Mineta does a handstand on the ball with one hand before flipping to the other side. "Well kids it's time for me to get done as a hero’s job is never over and blah blah blah the gift shop is giving out free plushies and you can keep your ball." The teacher does her best to usher out her students and the sound of childish screams resound down the hallway even though the door was shut. "How can I help you Y/n?" Mineta offers you his ball to sit on and you reluctantly take the offer as you grate in multiple directions in order to stay afloat. 

Mineta watches you with hidden interest as he interlocks his hands underneath his chin. "I didn't know you even knew my name?" Mineta Laughs exposing his annoyingly perfect teeth. It was hard to associate this face to the pictures you see when you search for his early years. "Of course I know your name, I stole your nameplate off your desk 2 months ago." Ah, so that's where it went  "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

You sighed, "I would like to put in my two weeks." Mineta goes slack-jawed before composing himself "Why?" Mineta looked at you earnestly, completely confused on why you'd want to abandon your post as his secretary- I mean assistant. "Working for you has become a hassle with your lack of financial maturity." Mineta mock shivers, "Oo big words, me no likey." Mineta hops onto his desk as if he weighed nothing more than paper and squats in front of you, "How about this, you don't quit and instead help me learn how to...how did you say it? Be financially mature." You lean back in your chair unconvinced that he was taking this seriously.

With the final nail ready to be hit, Mineta adds, "How about I give you a raise of 10 percent and a promotion?" You stand up in your chair with an eager grin, "That sounds great!" Mineta smirks to himself but you did not pay any mind to it. "Great, how about we discuss this over food, dinner date?" Your internal celebration screeches to a halt, " Dinner Date-" Mineta looks at you shocked, "Dinner date? Great idea, why didn't I think of it myself!?" A firm hand slides you towards the door as Mineta starts a complimentary speech giving you no room to object, "This is why I need you, you're so smart, I wish I was like you, tomorrow at 11?" You sputter trying to slip past his arms, "11 but I-?!" Mineta loudly gasps again, "There you go doing it again I'm so lucky to have you, tomorrow at 11 my treat!"

The door is shut in your face and the sound of the lock clicking seals your fate. What did you get into?

Cut to 4 years later and you are still not sure of that answer. Simply being bis accountant you had a glimpse of his perverted tendencies, but as his girlfriend, it was further exposed to depths you never could have found yourself imagining. You shuffle papers in the printing room as you do your best to ignore the faint tingling sensation in between your legs. Yet another whim you found yourself following on Mineta’s behalf despite the ever-present fear of being caught. The vibrator comes to life before going back down as quickly as it came. You toss a middle finger to the camera in the top corner of the room knowing he was watching.

"Miss L/n, can I ask you something?" You slap your arm down to your side in embarrassment. I hope he didn't see that.  Your coworker walks up to you holding a small stack of papers. "Yes, how can I help you?" The man shows you various forms as he talks, for once you were thankful for Mineta not embarrassing you in front of others. "Oh I see where you went wrong, this right here would be a 20% increase, not 18%." The man applauded you and graciously wrote down your explanation. "Thank you so much, my name is Kaminari by the way." 

"Ah hello, Kaminari, and no worries I'm always glad to help!" You turn back as your papers finally scan through but can't help notice Kaminari lingering. "Say Y/n?" You open your mouth to respond only to close it again as the vibratory comes back to life strongly. "Hmmm?!" Kaminari peers at you, your reaction was strange but he couldn't figure out why. "Um, never mind, have a nice day Miss. Y/n, maybe we can get together over coffee or something?” You shrug turning away from Kaminari in fear of your eyes rolling up. The man sways from foot to foot awkwardly before leaving the printing room. 

Snapping out of your personal flashback, you look over at your fiance signing autographs for his adoring and objectively feminine fan base. While it was extremely unnerving how unknowingly close they were to your home, you weren't resentful of their gushing.

Your engagement and your overall relationship had not been made public in fear of your personal life being exploited by paparazzi. That doesn't mean, however, the next thing you witness doesn't get your blood boiling.

A girl, no older than maybe 22 waltzes up to Mineta with the confidence of Muhammad Ali in a ring match. Her raven black hair fell flawlessly down her back with not a single split end. Almond eyes decorated with precise coal blink rapidly to draw attention to her seemingly natural eyelashes. With 4 inch wedges. a black halter top, and cuffed jean shorts, it was clear she was someone on a mission. She effortlessly pushes past the nearby fans as they stop to quack at her rivaling beauty. A smirk draws itself with her soft pink lips as she hears people muttering around and about her.

"Wow she's so pretty"

"They would look good together just look at them."

"Ugh, such an attention whore, not giving the rest of us a chance!"

"I bet a 20 she's his type."

"Is she famous?"

The chatter comes to a close as the girl hands Mineta a notebook, "Can you sign right here?" Mineta flips open the book and his eyes widen a fraction before he puts on his heroic voice, "Wow it looks like you got all of Japan's heroes in this book!" The girl smiles as she watches Mineta scratch his signature, "Don't be afraid to leave your number in there too Mr. Minoru." Mineta pauses at the statement for continuing his elaborate handwriting, "I don't think that would be very plus ultra of me so I'm gonna have to pass." Smug pride fills your chest as you watch the annoyance cross the girl's face.

Mineta finishes signing and hands her back her book, she, in turn, forces a small piece of paper in his hand before holding his chin and kissing him. At that moment nothing else mattered but beating that bitches ass as you yanked her black hair and dragged her to the ground. "This ain’t Wattpad bitch get your hands off of him!!" You turn to Mineta making him flinch with a sharp glare as you yank her hair again, hopefully pulling a few strands out. "You just gonna let her kiss you and not do anything!?" Mineta stretched his hands towards you cautiously, "Y/n calm down, if you would have given me a chance I would have settled it-" "No, settle it now!"

Your rage is diminished by the judgmental looks coming from the fans and you realize your brazen display was out of order.

"Who is she"

"I think she's the secretary l, so why is she so mad"

"Delusional just cause you're with him all the time doesn't mean you're together"

"I hope he fires her."

"This is why we shouldn't let them in Japan"

The girl whose hair you have in a chokehold stands up unbalanced before pushing your hands from her hair. Satisfied at the disheveled look of her previously perfect strands, you turn to walk back to Mineta, your anger having been sated, "Black Bitch." You turn around and go charging towards the girl again grinning when she flinches. Your rampage is stopped as Mineta wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, "Sorry for the disturbance, we deeply apologize!"

It's almost comical how your mouth spews vulgarity that would make a sailor blush as Mineta drags you behind your apartment building. He ushers you through the back door leading to the washroom, "I can't believe she'd do that in front of me, and you let her!" Mineta shuts the door quietly, leaning his ear against it to listen out for any lingering fans. You sit on top of a washer still ranting as your blood cools down. "The nerve of some of these people is outrageous, even if she doesn't know about us that is still sexual harassment!"

Mineta doesn't look at you and instead peeks through the blinds lining the washroom windows. "I think they are gone, come on." The two of you sneak out the door and walk at a moderate speed all the way back to your front door. In hindsight, you knew that causing a scene like that was a bold move on your part. If anyone was recording the whole ordeal you knew Mineta’s name and possibly yours would be in the headlines by later this evening. 

As the last one entering, you lock the door behind you, forehead scrunched together with apprehension. "Mineta I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I just saw her touching you and saw red." You face away from the door with an earnest look on your face. Mineta has a cheeky look on his face that can only mean trouble. Despite your similar slim build and height, Mineta easily corners you against the door. "I know exactly what got into you." Mineta’s pointer finger taps your nose. "Jealousy."

You sighed, putting your head down nodding, "Yeah, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just-" "shhh." Mineta lips your head back up with a hand under your chin. "It's fine Y/n. It's not like I expected a perfect little cocksleeve like you to be okay with sharing." You stare blinkingly at Mineta. 'Oh, he's in one of those moods huh?' As expected from such a fiend like Mineta, he was quite possibly hard the whole time he was watching you beat that girl's ass, and for some reason that irked you even more. “Mineta I’m being serious.” The words leaving your mouth did not phase Mineta, he holds your hips and pulls you close to him in order for you to feel his bulge. 

“Oh come on, after seeing you be so possessive for me, how can you not expect me to be a lil turned on?” Mineta’s hands circle your ass before slapping it, “Made me feel special.” Rolling your eyes you lean into the lingering kisses he begins to leave on your shoulder. His grip tightens as he shuffles you to the nearest surface. “Makes me feel all giddy inside to know that you do this only for me and no one else.” Minoru unbuttons your dress pants and removes your belt, “But doing that in front of all those people was stupid.” A shiver travels up your arms from the feeling of lips caressing your ear. Mineta dips his hand into your cotton panties and immediately draws attention to your clit.

“Look at me, Mineta Minoru with a girl like you that would fight for me. Who would have thought?” You ball your fists on the table, hanging your head low. “You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?” Mineta slips his other hand beneath your blouse to cup your breasts. Short l  rub down your slit collecting your slick. The feeling was warm and buzzing just underneath your skin, the bastard was well trained on how to slowly but surely bring your pleasure to its peak and hold you there. Your muscles begin to feel more and more like jelly, you sigh “Oh God..” Mineta pushed his body further on yours, rutting against your body. Up until now, his other hand was simply resting on your skin but once impatience overcame him, he used it to pull down your pants. 

“You know this will be in articles tomorrow right?” Two fingers curl inside of you making you squeal, “Y-Yes!” Something hard and slick smacks against your bare ass as Mineta removes the bottom half of his hero costume. “So how are you going to compensate me for what I’ll have to deal with tomorrow?” You turn your head to the back with a small pout on your face, “She shouldn’t have touched you.” Mineta coyly smiles before pressing your head down against the table. “You should have let me handle it.” 

Mineta was an average of 5 inches in length with conservative girth. But so far he’s been the only man that really added proof that size doesn’t matter. Mineta pulls away from you and leans down to riffle through his pants. You hear a crisp pop of a cap being opened and a slick splatter is heard afterward. A shaky breath leaves Mineta’s lips as he lubes his cock up. Penetrating is a struggle at first, the longer it takes for him to push it in the more both of you become frustrated until he finally pulls your waist back against himself. “S-So good!” The pleasure causes his childhood lisp to slip through as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch. 

You shift your feet when Mineta refrains from moving. "Tsk, you really don't understand the meaning of patience do you?" Your hands suddenly become cool to the touch as Mineta covers them with medium sized spheres temporarily gluing you to the table. "Mineta this isn't fair! Please just a little bit to the left!" Now having you helpless Mineta puts one hand on your back while stroking the base of his cock. "It's not about being fair, it is about teaching a sneaky brat like you to know their place." Mineta begins to move but it's not right, he needs to go more to the left, "Mineta what are you even talking about!?!" 

A sigh leaves Mineta's lips, "Don't think I forgot about that slick shit you tried to pull with Kaminari." Mineta watches your ad shake and bounce everytime your hips meet. Your arms twitch and pull at themselves wanting to find purchase on the flat surface. Groans leave your lips as Mineta comes closer to hitting your spot,  "Slick shit?! Y-You're the one that wanted to do that stupid little piano in the first place!" You couldn't see it but Mineta had a deep seated glare on his face. He loops his fingers underneath his yellow scarf and rolls it around long ways. 

"I'm really tierd of your mouth. What you think because I let you beat that girl out their I'll let you beat me?" The middle of the scarf is put in your mouth and your head is pulled back by it. Mineta holds both ends of the scarf to slam into your cunt. "Just a greedy little bitch aren't you?" You scream into the cloth as Minetas cock finally hits your spot just right. The constant pulling on the corner of your mouth burned everytime the fabric rubbed against the sensitive flesh. Your feet rise to your toes in a fruitless attempt at getting a break from the pleasure. Mineta holds his scarf in one hand and pushes down your waist. "Didnt you want this? Don't run from it now."

Your pussy squelched around his cock the faster he went making you go cross eyed. "Fuck you feel so damn good.  The table rattled and scraped across the floor with every thrust. "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your nails scraped the table as you closed your fist, had you had claws it would have been a whole different story. You beared down on his cock, trying, begging to feel more inside of your walls as he moved faster. Suddenly your argument fel worth it.

Mineta knew many things about himself. He knew his birthday, he knew where he was in life, and he knew he had come 6 minutes ago and was bordering hysteria as he pumped his overestimated cock into your wet heat. Each drag made years collect in his eyes.  Tiny whimpers left his lips and his hands squeezed your sides harder and hard.  "So fucking warm. Squeezing down on my dick like that." 

He bowed his head and rested on your back,  kissing the sweaty skin as he pushed through the painful pleasure.  "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mineta slaps your ass  before pulling out and shoving his fingers inside your pussy. "Cum for me, Y/n. That's it cum on my hands." Mineta's fingers were the only thing that never really grew on him. They were relatively short but thick so even three of them were able to stretch your hole the way you needed. 

"Y-Yes, right there shit!" Your cum drips down his arm soiling the fabric there as you squint around him, "That's it give it to me." Mineta buried his face in your pussy licking you clean like a man starved. It wasn't until you whined did he stop and pull his fingers out. 

Luckily for you, his spheres were just about coming close to their time constraint. You stand up rubbing your wrists and drinking some water Mineta brings you. A snort captures your attention and Mineta holds up his phone, "Not even an hour." Writing in thick bold words read. 

"Obsessive Secretary Snaps on Camera!"

You snort, "I'm the obsessive one huh?" It was going to be a long day tomorrow 

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter One: Lonely Together

Jack Kline x OC

Rated: PG

~I might hate myself tomorrow

But I'm on my way tonight

Let's be lonely together

A little less lonely together~

Sent: 10:52 PM

Merry Christmas, stranger. I hope yours is as bright as new fallen snow. Stay warm.

I smiled down at my phone before clicking it off and slipping it into my pocket. I didn't know who I had sent the message to. It was just a number I had punched in at random. I didn't expect anyone to reply.

Wrapping my dark green cardigan tighter around my body, I pulled my knees in closer to my chest and pressed myself closer against the wall of the bakery. The wall was only slightly warmer than the frigid air around me. It was December 2nd and icy gales were blowing in from Lake Superior and stinging the skin of the city's occupants.

The sky hung dark, low, and flat over Copper Harbor, Michigan. Copper Harbor was an itty-bitty town at the northern most tip of the northernmost part of Michigan. You know that piece of land that's only connected to the mainland by a highway, that in-between place that really should be Canada, but isn't? That's where Copper Harbor is and that's where I was.

Copper Harbor was the sort of town where newcomers and visitors are as common as flying pigs and are treated with about as much scrutiny. It's not one of those small, friendly towns just off the highway; the ones that are pleasant to find yourself in if you've taken a wrong turn. It's quite the feat to get lost and turn up in Copper Harbor, considering its miles away from anything and everything remotely interesting, unless you're searching for Bigfoot or a drunk Canadian that took a wrong turn. Though those two things might just end up being one and the same. No, nobody came to Copper Harbor unless they had a reason. That's just the sort of place it was. And aside from the mind-numbing cold, it was exactly the sort of place I wanted to be.

The clouds were so heavy with the snow that now drifted down, dusting everything in a layer of fine white powder, it seemed that someone standing on even the lowest rooftop could reach up and touch them. The snowflakes raining down from those clouds gave the appearance of tiny shooting stars. Many would have found the sight beautiful. I didn't. I just found it cold and somewhat depressing. Some people say that shooting stars are angels, falling to the earth to bless the lives of people in need. I've never liked those sorts of stories. The stars belong in the heavens. The dust belongs on the earth. Collecting in puddles, the sparkling, sugar-like ice crystals did nothing to ease the bitter cold. I shivered and coughed, my breath fogging in front of me.

I should have frozen to death hours ago.

But I can't die. At least, not that way.

Suffering, on the other hand, I can do that to no end.

I put my head between my knees, hoping to retain what little heat my walking corpse had to offer. I struggled to remain conscious. The story of the little-match-girl was playing in my head. I'd never liked that story's ending. Hallucinations really weren't my thing, especially hallucinations about things I tried not to think about, the things I tried to burry in the farthest corners of my mind. I had to distract myself, to think about anything that would keep me awake. The problem was, there was nothing to distract me.

Pling!

My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text. I grasped it quickly, greedy for a distraction, but I paused upon seeing the number displayed upon the screen. It was that number I had texted the Merry Christmas message to. Whoever it was had texted me back. I unlocked my phone and peered at the mystery person's message.

Received: 11:18 PM

Merry Christmas to you as well!

The message read. I smiled a little, surprised that anyone would care to return my quiet Christmas wish. The screen of my phone lit up with another message.

Received: 11:19 PM

Who are you?

The question was a simple one. Though tone can often be difficult to infer over written text, the question seemed to bear no hostility, only innocent curiosity. I thought for a bit about what to say, the answer was not as simple as the question had implied.

***

Located quite literally one thousand miles away from Copper Harbor, was the small, out-of-the-way town of Lebanon, Kansas. Now, in the outskirts Lebanon there was a hill. The hill was modestly sized and carpeted with thick grass painted with a layer of frost. Although it was a rather pleasant sight for some stray hiker to find, the hill was really quite unremarkable. That is, if you ignored the hulking steel door built into the side of it that looked like the entrance to a post-apocalyptic hobbit hole. See, built under that hill there was a bunker. It looked like any ordinary bunker if one can ever describe a bunker as ordinary. But inside this ordinary looking bunker, sat something rather extraordinary and his name was Jack.

Jack Kline was quite happy where he was. Sitting with his legs crossed on a chair beside the bunker's fireplace, Jack held Sam's beloved lap-top between his knees. Sam let him borrow it on the nights he couldn't sleep. Those nights were many. Sleepless nights were one of the many side effects of being half-angel, but he didn't really mind. Jack wasn't overly fond of sleep, not like Sam or Dean who adored the few hours they got. Jack would much rather be awake because if he was asleep then he couldn't observe. He liked to observe. He loved learning. He loved taking in anything and everything going on around him, soaking it all up like a sponge with legs. He especially loved to soak up a story. Epic ones with heroes that defeat powerful villains. Jack loved stories.

So, no; Jack Kline was not overly fond of sleep. No, Jack preferred to just sit quietly and watch those epic stories as they played out in front of him on the screen of Sam's lap-top.

Currently, he was watching Star Wars: The Clone Wars. The computer had said he would like it, and the computer had been right. He had just finished season 2 and had begun on season 3. Some small voice in the back of his mind told him he should slow down and draw the series out a little longer, but Jack just couldn't find the will to do so. This story was just too good to stop. Jack shoved a hand full of popcorn in his mouth as he pressed the play button on the next episode. He had managed to sneak several bags of popcorn from the kitchen and into the secret stash in his room a few nights earlier. It was perfect, except popcorn needed to be popped and popping the kernels without attracting notice was a bit of a challenge. But he found that if he popped them during the day, when everyone was clamoring about and busy with whatever, the noise from the popping kernels wouldn't peak any suspicion. The only downside to his strategy was that it left him with cold popcorn. Though this too could be remedied via his angel powers, if he was careful about it, he could warm up the popcorn undetected.

Now, don't get the impression that Jack was being starved, or held in this bunker against his will, or something awful like that. As was mentioned before, Jack was very happy there. The Winchesters, Sam and Dean, and the angel Castiel, lived there with him and took care of him. They were his family and Jack loved them. The only reason he had a secret stash at all was because Sam was the only one in the bunker who cared about the importance of having a somewhat healthy diet. Whereas Dean let the boy eat pretty much anything he wanted and Cas- well in Cas's mind food was food and that's all there was to it. But Sam didn't like it when he caught Jack eating what he referred to as 'junk food'.

Somehow, Sam always caught him.

"That stuff’ll rot your teeth, Jack!" He'd sigh, as he'd flip on the kitchen light and catch Jack eating cereal sometime around midnight. Then he'd look at Jack with a disappointed look on his face until Jack threw the cereal away and went back to bed. Jack hated it when Sam looked at him like that, he just couldn't bear to let the Winchesters down.

But Jack loved to eat. Eating was enjoyable as it brought with it something new every time. Yet more things to absorb and to experience. Although the younger Winchester disapproved of the more sugary foods; Jack liked those a whole lot more than the salads Sam tried to get him to eat. Jack didn't like the salads or 'Rabbit Food' as Dean called it. No, Jack liked popcorn a quite a bit more.

He smiled as he brought another handful into his mouth. Yes, Jack Kline quite enjoyed eating.

Plip! Ploop!

Jack's head swiveled away from the screen to stare at the phone laying face-up on the arm rest of the chair in which he sat. The screen was alight with a text message. He picked up the phone and unlocked it. The message read:

Received: 10:52 PM

Merry Christmas, stranger. I hope yours is as bright as new fallen snow. Stay warm.

That was all. Jack was quite confused; he didn't know that number. Who had sent the text? What should he do? Should he say something back?

Curiosity and caution struggled in a match tug-of-war in his head. He wanted to know who the message had come from. He wanted to know why that person had sent it. He also wanted to know why he had a strange feeling that whoever had sent the message was horribly sad. But would the Winchesters be mad at him if he answered? Sam and Dean had given him the phone just a few days earlier.

"For emergencies," Sam had said as he laid the device in Jack's hand before resuming his packing. Jack had stared at it, rather confused as to its purpose. Castiel had been off somewhere doing something and Sam and Dean had been leaving for a hunt, leaving him alone which Dean was completely and utterly against.

"Only for emergencies," Dean had stressed, jabbing his finger in Jack's general direction as he inspected various articles of clothing before tossing them into a duffle bag. "That means don't text or call unless someone is breaking in or you're dying!"

Sam shot his older brother a warning look. Dean ignored it and pulled a pair of socks out of his dresser, sniffing them briefly before making a face and chucking them to the other side of the room. Jack looked back down at the small black rectangle in his palm.

"Okay so, only text or call in case there's an emergency. Got it." Jack clinched the thin black box between his thumb and forefinger, carefully lifting it up as if it might explode in his face. "But, one question, if something happens like-like you said, like somebody breaking in or me dying, how-how would I do that?" He asked, looking back at the two brothers. They both froze their hasty packing and pivoted to stare at him, their eyebrows raised with disbelieving question.

"What?" Dean asked the young Nephilim. Jack shrank away a little, not wanting to upset the older Winchester.

"How do I text or call you? I don't know how to do that," Jack had timidly replied. Dean just shook his head and returned to over-stuffing the duffle. Sam, however, was much more understanding.

"That's right, you-you don't, do you?" Sam asked, realizing his mistake. Jack turned his attention to the younger of the brothers, shaking his head in an answer to Sam's question.

"Unbelievable," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. Sam shot him another glare which Dean merely shrugged off.

"Well, come on then, I'll teach you," Sam had said. Jack watched as Sam set the contacts and explained how everything worked. He showed Jack how to send a text, how to dial and answer a call, and all the other things Jack would need to know. Jack just watched him and took note of every little thing. Watching and replicating was how Jack learned best.

"Now, if I don't answer my phone, you call Dean. But if he doesn't pick up, I want you to call me again, if I still don't answer a second time, I want you to call this number right here. That's Jody Mills, she's a friend of ours and she'll help you, alright? You get all that?" Sam finished explaining and looked for Jack to confirm his understanding. Jack nodded.

"I got it!" He said, enthusiastically. Sam gave the young boy a nervous smile.

"You do? Can you repeat it back to me?" Sam asked Jack the question the same way Sam and Dean's father had always asked them.

"If something happens, call you, and if you don't answer, call Dean. If Dean doesn't answer then I call you again, but if you still don't pick up, then call Jody Mills." Jack repeated all of Sam's instructions perfectly, grinning proudly at the younger Winchester when he finished. Sam laughed a little, but nerves twinged his voice.

"Good, yeah. Okay," Sam paused, thinking things over, "You know what, Jack? If neither of us answer your call and it's really that urgent, don't bother calling me a second time. Just call Jody right away if you can't get through to either of us. Alright?"

"Alright!" Jack nodded, grinning. Sam nodded back, stiffly.

"Alright." He seemed like he wanted to say something else but didn't know how to say it.

"You two done in there, Sammy?! We gotta go!" Dean called, walking in from another room. Sam stood and looked at his brother.

"Uh, yeah. I think we're good," He took a few steps towards the stairs that lead up to the door before pausing and turning back to Jack, "We're good, right? You're gonna be okay here by yourself?" Sam asked again. Jack grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

"I'll be fine. You don't have to worry."

Sam nodded and smiled with so much nervousness it almost hurt to watch.

"Okay, good. It's good. We're good," He said, nodding and trying to reassure himself more than anyone else. Dean raised an eyebrow at his overly anxious little brother, tugging his old leather jacket on over his shoulders, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he directed his remarks at Jack.

"Hey, kid. Whatever you do, don't do anything stupid," He'd said, half glaring, "We'll be back in a few days." Then they'd left.

Now, Jack glanced back down at the phone in his hands, remembering Dean's warning about not doing anything stupid. But his curiosity regarding the sender of the message was overwhelming. It couldn't hurt to text this person back, right? Was that what Dean had meant by his warning? Did this count as something stupid? What was the worst that could happen? Deciding that the benefits outweighed the risks, he texted back.

Sent: 10:18 PM

Merry Christmas to you as well!

Jack wrote.

Sent: 10:19 PM

Who are you?

No sooner had asked his question, he began to worry that he might have sounded rude. He waited with anticipation for the mystery person to reply. He didn't have to wait long.

Received: 10:20 PM

It doesn't matter, you don't know me.

I'm just someone wanting to give you a warm holiday wish.

Jack frowned. Again, he got the distinct feeling that the person on the other side of this conversation was deeply saddened by something. He desperately wanted to know what. So, he did the thing he did best. He asked and waited to see what would happen.

***

Received: 11:21 PM

If you don't know me, why do you care?

I don't mean to be rude. I'm just curious.

Why do this?

I read the person's question once, then twice, then three times and I realized that I didn't have an answer. Why did I care? Why was I texting some random person a Christmas wish? For all I knew, this person may not even observe the holiday. I had so many of my own things to worry about I was nearly drowning in them. I didn't know this person. I had nothing to do with them. So, why did I care about their holiday season? Why was I doing this?

I told myself it was just a random act of kindness. But deep down I knew what the reason was, and even if I didn't want to think about it, I felt it in my heart. I was doing this for the same reason I did everything. So, I took a few moments and came up with a reply.

Sent: 11:25 PM

I'm doing this because I believe that no one should ever have to be alone,

especially during the holidays.

I sent my reply and remembered to keep on shivering. I could hardly feel the cold anymore, I had gone almost completely numb. But I knew if I didn't keep moving, I would surely freeze in place and be unable to move until spring came. I vaguely wondered how cold it was. I remembered having heard on someone's car radio that this was supposed to be the coldest winter Michigan had experienced in the last decade. Though winter had only just begun, it was already cold enough for the district council to be suggesting face coverings to prevent citizens from getting frostbite and losing their nose.

I sneezed. I had no such face covering. Hell! I didn't even have a jacket! Let alone a coat or anything mildly warm. All I had was my oversized green cardigan, my black Star Wars t-shirt and my black jeans. That was it. Yet here I sat, outside a bakery in well below freezing temperatures, shivering myself into next decade.

I could go to a shelter. At least there I wouldn't have to endure the bitter biting of the wind as it gushed with double its normal force through these tight, abandoned alleyways. But if I went to a shelter then there was no chance of leaving undetected, I reminded myself. No, it was better to stay here, cold and alone, than to risk human contact.

I was pulled from my thoughts by another pling from my phone. Another message from that unknown contact.

Received: 11: 27

Are you alone?

Again, the question was simple. And although the mere thought hurt like a knife twisting in a fresh wound, I looked around at the dark, trash littered alleyway I sat in, watching the scattered rags of paper flutter and tumble in the winter gales, and I looked at the brutally beautiful puddles of speckled ice gathering along my body and melting on my skin, and I examined the bleak night sky, choked starless by the drifting dreary clouds; and the utterly silent stillness of the sleeping city revealed the harsh reality of my answer.

No one was here.

Nobody cared.

Not even the stars would keep me company. Because the stars never cared who I was.

So, with no reason to keep the truth hidden. I answered the question honestly.

Sent: 11: 29 PM

Yes.

Sent: 11: 30 PM

I am alone.

I was completely and utterly alone.

***

Received: 10: 30 PM

I am alone.

Once again Jack got the distinct impression that these words carried a heavy burden. It made him frown. What could he do to help a person he didn't even know? He wanted to ask this person if they had any friends, but something about those words told him the answer. When this person had said they were alone, Jack got the feeling they weren't just talking about the current moment. But maybe that's what this person needed. Maybe they needed a friend.

Sent: 10: 32 PM

Well, I'll be your friend and talk to you. There, now you're not alone anymore!

Jack smiled as he sent the text. The reply didn't take long.

Received: 10: 33 PM

Thank you.

You don't have waste your time on me but thank you.

It didn't take any special powers to read in between the lines this time, anyone could see the sadness in those words. Though Jack wasn't sure if it was his powers causing that strange feeling or if he was just imagining things.

Sent: 10:34 PM

I don't mind. Really!

Besides, I don't have anyone to talk to either.

Received: 10: 35 PM

Well, in that case, we can be lonely together!

Jack grinned. He'd made himself a friend. He couldn't wait to get to know them.

***

Received: 11: 36 PM

Since we're friends now, what's your name?

I smiled down at my new mystery friend's message. There was something about the words that made them seem innocent and earnest. It couldn't hurt to give my name, right? It’s not like he could find me. After all, I'm supposed to be dead.

Sent: 11: 37 PM

My name is Martina.

I sent my name and waited for the response. It came quickly.

Received: 11: 38 PM

I like your name Martina!

It's very pretty.

I flinched as I read the text. Something about seeing my name written in the text brought me back to a conversation with a different person a long time ago. It was a painful memory, and I didn't want to see it anymore. I didn't want another reminder of the still bleeding wounds in my heart. I remembered why I didn't let anyone call me that name anymore.

Sent: 11: 39 PM

Thank you.

But I would prefer you call me Marty.

I didn't want to be so sensitive to things like this, but I just couldn't help it.

Received: 11: 40 PM

Alright! I like Marty too.

It's a fun name.

I smiled; grateful they didn't ask why it was so important that they called me by a nickname.

Sent: 11: 41 PM

Thanks for understanding.

So, what's your name?

Received: 11: 42 PM

My name is Jack!

I grinned to myself. I'd made me a friend. I just couldn't wait to get to know him.

Sent: 11: 43 PM

Heya, Jack!

It’s nice to meet you!

I think this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

Received: 11: 44 PM

I agree, Marty. We are going to be great friends!

Sent: 11: 45 PM

So, what's your favorite movie?

And just like that, we talked until the sun came up. And suddenly, for the first time in quite a while, I wasn't completely alone.

***

"Hey, uh, Jack? We're back!"

Sam's voice drifted in from just outside Jack's bedroom door. Jack was surprised. He hadn't heard the brothers come in which, for him, was quite peculiar.

The door creaked open and Jack hastily attempted to pretend like he hadn't been using the phone.

He failed.

Miserably.

The device slipped from his hand and he fumbled to catch it before it smashed against the grey, polished concrete floor. He let out a sigh of relief as he snatched it just in time.

Sam peered around the door, checking in on Jack, who was now hanging halfway off his bed and clutching the phone. Scrambling to sit upright, Jack gave Sam a half-panicked smile.

"Hi Sam!" He waved a greeting, shoving his phone behind his back. Sam raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He folded his arms and leaned back on his heels.

"Hey Jack," Sam seemed a little distracted, "Have you seen Cas?" He asked. Jack shook his head vigorously.

"He's not back yet," He answered. Sam nodded and started to leave before stopping and turning back. Only now seeming to notice Jack's odd behavior. Sam gestured at the phone hidden behind the boys back,

"So, what were you doing in here just now?" Jack's eyes flew wide as quarters and his gaze shifted rapidly around the room, focusing on anywhere but Sam. His mind was working overtime trying to find a viable excuse.

"Uhhhh...Nothing!" Jack tried; his brain had gone blank. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You sure about that?" Sam leaned forward a little, narrowing his eyes. Jack leaned back to match; his face scrunched up with the guilt he was trying very hard to hide. Everyone in the bunker knew how terrible Jack was at lying. He might be able to pass a few simple fibs by a stranger, but his family saw through him like he was made of glass. He couldn't deceive them. But that didn't stop him from trying, however.

"Yes..." Jack said slowly, his eyebrows pulling together in a rather sad attempt at looking sincere.

"Jack, what were you doing?" Sam asked more sternly. Jack looked at his feet and didn't answer. His shoulders moved up and down in a shrug.

"Do I have to go get Dean?" Sam pressed. Now Jack's head shot up. He stretched his hands out in a pleading gesture.

"No, no! Don't tell Dean!" Jack begged. Sam's expression shifted into one of concern.

"If you tell me, I won't tell Dean." Sam agreed, moving to sit on the bed beside Jack who shifted to give him some space. Sam waited patiently for the young Nephilim to speak. Jack kept his head down and rubbed his hands together nervously as he tried to think of how he should explain himself.

"Well, last night I was watching Netflix when I got this text from somebody wishing me a merry Christmas-" He started.

"Someone we know?" Sam asked, interrupting. Jack shook his head and continued.

"I asked them why they would do that, and they said it was because they thought that nobody should be alone this time of year. So, I asked if they were alone and they said, yes ─" Jack looked the younger Winchester in the eyes ─

"I don't know why but I just got this- this feeling, and they sounded just so sad, and now we're friends! But Dean said not to do anything stupid, and now I'm worried that I did! Are you mad?" Jack finished, worry coloring his features. Sam blinked. Once again astounded by the size of the half-angel's heart, he shook his head.

"No, Jack. I'm not mad," He said, softly.

"Really?"

"Really. I think you did a good thing. Everyone needs a friend." Sam patted Jack's shoulder and smiled. Jack looked down, grinning to himself as pride filled his chest.

Sam waited a moment before getting up from the bed. Stretching his back out and groaning a bit as he stood. It had been almost 48 hours since he last slept, and he was more than ready for a long nap. His hand rested on the doorknob and he paused a moment before turning back around.

"Hey, uh, Jack. Just one more thing. Do you by chance know this person's name?" Sam asked. Jack looked up briefly before looking back at the floor again, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping up to stain his cheeks.

"It's, uh, it's Marty," He replied. Sam nodded and moved to leave again but he stopped. His eyebrows pulled down with confusion before he turned back.

"And uh, is that a boy's name or a girl's name? Do you know?" Jack turned his head a bit to the side and picked at a thread in his jeans.

"Does it matter?" He questioned back. Truthfully, it didn't. Sam wouldn't make Jack stop if he didn't want to. But to say that the boy's current evasive behavior didn't pique his interest, would be a lie. Though, the kid’s flushed cheeks told him quite a bit about the answer.

"It doesn't matter," Sam said, shrugging, "I'm just curious is all." The tall man watched the boy's reaction. Jack nodded and shifted as if uncomfortable.

"Marty's a girl." He answered, trying to force his voice into sounding nonchalant. And failing.

"Okay, cool." Sam nodded, turning around again, and reaching for the handle. Jack's head whipped around.

"Wait, Sam!"

Sam looked over his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"Don't. Tell. Dean!" Jack stressed. Urgency was evident in his voice. Sam huffed a laugh.

"Okay, Jack." With that, Sam pulled open the door and walked out letting the heavy steel swing shut behind him. Behind the door, Jack sighed with relief. He'd dodged a bullet with that one.

Walking a ways down the hall, Sam got to Dean's room where his older brother was now unpacking. The younger brother leaned on the door frame and expelled the laughter he'd been holding on to since Jack’s room. Dean turned around, holding a pistol and a pair of weeks old and hopelessly blood caked socks in his hands, he faced Sam with a questioning look.

"What's got you so giggly all of a sudden?" The older of the brother's asked.

Dean glanced at the pair of socks in his hand. He grimaced at the stench and held them further away from his face, trying not to breathe. It didn't work. The socks odor was so pungent, Dean could smell them through his mouth. There was no hope of washing them. Nope, those things would have to be burned. Though, taking another whiff of them, Dean wasn't sure that even incinerating the socks would do him much good now. The stomach-turning stink would be branded into his memory forever. Sam straightened up, shaking his head of shoulder length hair.

"It's just something Jack said." Sam smiled and laughed again before taking notice of the unholy stench wafting off the socks. He coughed. "Dude, those stink. Bad!"

"Yeah, it's a sad day, Sammy." Dean nodded solemnly. Sam covered his nose.

"Why?"

"These were my second luckiest pair of socks."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, they're not anymore," Sam pointed out. Now, they were just rancid.

"I think we should give em' a Viking funeral, something to honor their service. I mean, I remember one time when I wore these things for two weeks straight!" Dean reminisced, grinning. Sam looked mildly disturbed.

"That's, uh... nice... But, uh, is there somewhere we could put them before the funeral? Because they, uh, they reek." Sam was trying hard not to gag and couldn't understand how Dean could be holding them and remain unaffected. Dean smirked.

"You wanna go put em' somewhere?" He asked, waving the socks into Sam's face. Sam leaned away.

"Ah! God! No! Put those things somewhere! Please!" He choked out. Dean just grinned and moved to the other side of the room. Grabbing a cardboard box from off the shelf, he shoved the socks in there and sealed the lid. The stench quickly began to dissipate.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"We're gonna have to burn that box too."

"Yup." Sam still felt a little sick but at least the socks were gone.

"So, what was it Jack said that you thought was so funny?" The older brother asked.

"Oh, uh, nothing. It was nothing," Sam said. But laughter began to creep up on him again. Dean rolled his eyes and went back to pulling more dirty clothing from the duffle bag.

"Are ya gonna stand there or are ya gonna spill?" Dean pushed. Sam sobered up again.

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you," He said.

Dean shook his head, mildly annoyed. He knew Sam was going to tell him whatever juicy information he had gotten, just like he always did when he got that sly look on his face. Sam could be a bit of a schoolgirl that way. Except, of course, when it came to the important things, the things Dean was supposed to know. Those things Sam always kept to himself.

"Well, Sammy, if you ain’t gonna spill─" he used the gun in his hand to gesture from Sam to the duffle bag─ "get workin'."

The younger Winchester moved to the bag and started unpacking, grinning his face off all the while. Dean knew his little brother was waiting for him to ask about the thing with Jack again, so he said nothing. He just waited for Sam to look over to him eagerly, which is exactly what Sam did.

"So get this!" Sam started.

'Here it comes.' Dean predicted internally. Sam kept starring.

'Yatzee.' Dean thought. He knew Sam like the back of his hand. Actually, he probably knew his brother better than that.

"Apparently, Jack got a text from some random person last night wishing him merry Christmas. And, well, you know Jack! So he─" Dean stopped his brother mid-sentence.

"What's her name?" He interrupted. Sam looked confused.

"I didn't say anything about a girl," Sam trailed off. Dean sighed and shook his head.

"Geez, Sammy! If you love drama so much, you should go be an actor. You ain't foolin' anybody. We both know where this is goin' so just cut to the chase!" Dean sighed, opening a trunk and tossing in the gun he'd been holding along with several knives. His small outburst had startled his younger brother, but Dean didn't really care. Sam wasn't the only one who hadn't slept in 48 hours. Sleep was calling and Dean wanted nothing more than to answer. Sam frowned.

"Marty. The girl's name is Marty," Sam stated, sounding rather put out that Dean had guessed at his not-so-cleaver ploy. The older if the pair turned to the younger with a perplexed expression.

"Wait, wait. Marty?" He clarified. Amused disbelief written all over his features.

"Marty," Sam confirmed.

"Marty?"

"Yeah. Marty."

"Like the zebra in Madagascar, Marty?" Dean asked, grinning. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, like that. But remember, you didn't hear anything from me!" He answered, smiling as well. Dean laughed as he turned his attention back to the mess of clothing and weapons surrounding him on the floor.

"Yeah, whatever, drama queen." Dean rolled his eyes and kept working. The room was silent for a moment before the older Winchester burst out laughing again. He couldn't help himself; he found the subject hilarious.

"Ah, man. Marty! Now there's a name!" He exclaimed as he started folding the few clean clothing items laying in the pile. "What? Did her parents just take one look at her and say: 'Look at our beautiful baby! Let's name her Marty!'" Dean scoffed.

Sam snorted and shook his head at his older brother's bad joke. Then he leaned his head back and yawned.

"Man, I think we need some sleep," Sam sighed. Dean smirked.

"Is it your bedtime already?" He taunted, expecting a playful retort. But this time, Sam didn't argue. He just nodded.

"Yeah, I think it is." Though worried about his little brother, Dean held his playful smirk in place perfectly, just like he had been doing for so many years.

"Well, you go ahead and hit the sack. I'll finish up here." He said, easily. Even though he was just as tired and Sam was, he would finish out like always. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, o'course. There's not much left anyway." That was a lie and they both knew it, but Sam took the offer of sleep while it was on the table.

"Thanks, Dean."

"You're welcome, Sammy."

Sam patted his older brother on the arm as he stood and left the room. Traveling down the corridor he got to his bedroom and was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Meanwhile, Dean mouthed the strange name of Jack's mystery girl and chuckled about it to himself. Sitting on the floor in his room as he continued folding the rest of the clean clothes, cleaning out all the weapons and putting everything back in its place. The chore took him two more hours to complete but when it was done, he stretched himself out and laid back on his bed.

"Marty. Now, that's hilarious." Dean snickered to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

~I might hate myself tomorrow.

But I'm on my way tonight.

Let's be lonely together.

A little less lonely together~

Lyrics from: Lonely Together by Jasmine Thompson

[kornito]

SOURCE: https://korngiant.tripod.com/kornisgoodforu/id10.html

Dead

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

All I want in life is to be happy", it's that simple. People say that it's become their own anthem. It's like whenever I start to feel good, something comes and takes it away and I feel like I'm nothing again, like I'm dead.

Falling Away From Me

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

The song is about domestic abuse and that there ways to get help whether it's telling someone or calling a help line, there are ways to get out of those situations. Noone has to be treated like that.

Trash

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Trash" is about how I threw my world and everything out. I threw her away. I threw my old self away. It basically comes back down to the sex thing. The battles I did on the road, this whole album is what I went through because I was on the road and I went crazy.

Beg for Me

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Beg For Me" is more of an angry thing because the whole thing for "Beg For Me" is the crowd. The only time I was good on tour was when I walked up onstage and that's what the song is about. Feeling wanted is something one thing I've always needed. I was shuffled around so much when I was a kid...Being up onstage was the only point was the only time when my anxiety would go away for an hour.

Make Me Bad

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

I need to feel the sickness in you" ... It's spawned from f**kin', basically, from having sex. That's where that line comes from, but it means a whole bunch of things to me. "Make Me Bad" was about the battles I had being on the road, being married and being with other women. I'm not married anymore... beause of my lifestlyle, and I just couldnt do that to my wife anymore. So that ended. But does it make me bad that I have a dick and I have f**ken other feelings to be with other people? Why should I be with just one? It seems like human beings are genetically engineered to procreate. Thats what we do, f**k everything, and that's what our natural insides want to do. It is hard to find someone like that. But she was a good woman and I didnt want to keep on... I did the right thing, I was a man about it. It was better for me to tell her and let her go on with her life and find someone who could help her and be like that. So that song was spawned by that, does it make me bad to want to be with other women? In a sence it was my only drug, why... because I dont drink anymore, I cant drink. I've been sober for a year. I dont have any other vices. So at least doing that could be something.

Hey Daddy

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

"Hey Daddy" where I was schizophrenic and there were these voices telling me to do sh*t... To kill myself, basically. Daddy is one of my nicknames, so its like I'm talking to myself the whole time. It's hard to explain.

Dirty

Song Meaning: Jonathan

"I feel like a fucking whore to record companies." "You know how it is...the way we are used and marketed." "How they make all the money off us and we don't make shit!" "The only way we make money is to go out on tour and sell merchandise" "Basiclly we write all the music and turn in and they make all the money." "So I feel like that and also I feel like a slut cuz I'd go out at night and fucking girls and so I said fuck it, I'm going to do it. The only way to escape is to have sex." "Its all kind of different issues."

Its On!

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's On is my sh*t peer pressure song. Me being so stressed out going out and partying. Everybody's just going 'Come on dude, it's on.' That's partying, it's alcohol, cocaine, women. All that wrapped into one. I wrote a song about it. And the chorus I talked about Why am I really doing this? It's all my fault that I'm doing this because all the alcohol, the booze an the chicks do is just make it worse. They just rearrange all the problems in a different order that I can deal with at that moment.

Freak on a Leash

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

One of the best titles I've heard ever for a song. That's my song against the music industry. Like me feeling like I'm f**kin' a pimp, a prostitute. Like I'm paraded around. I'm this freak paraded around but I got corporate America f**kin' making all the money while it's taking a part of me. It's like they stole something from me, they stole my innocence and I'm not calm anymore. I worry constantly.

Got the Life

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's a song baggin' on myself. How everything's always handed to me. How I look up to God and don't want this anymore. Like I want something more out of life than all this. And I've got everything I really need but I sometimes don't like. I don't know how to explain it. I have to let it sit through the songs more to actually get into what I write. I truly know, really, the meanings of the songs almost. That's what I'm getting out of it right now.

Dead Bodies Everywhere

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That was the song about my parents trying to keep me out of the music business. My father was in it and he knew how it was and I totally understand now that I have a son. I want Nathan to be a musician but I him don't want him to go through the hell I went through. That's the same thing my Dad was doing. A lot of people can relate to it, because it's like the Dad's wanting their sons to be football players and their sons want to be doctors or something. That peer pressure its like trying to make them something they're really not. And the Dead Bodies thing is like so I did it and all I got out of it was dead bodies everywhere and got all traumatized. Thanks a lot Dad, Mom.

Children of the Korn

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's the song that Ice Cube is on Cube came up with the title. I fed off of what he wrote, he was talking about growing up and puberty. Dictating what he can do, like how you gonna tell me how to live and who to f**k? And all this stuff. And I took that and in my stuff I was talking about being a kid always known as the f**kin' town faggot. It's funny how things change. That some of these people picked on me and all of a sudden look who's laughing now. Also in another of the verse I talked about all these parents f**kin hating me for what I do, saying I'm corrupting their children, but in turn these parents need to step outside of themselves and really listen to what I'm talking about. Then I think they can understand that they were kids before. They're just really quick to judge me. All the Children of The Korn are all our Korn fans. All those kids going through that sh*t and feeling what I feel.

B.B.K.

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Big black cock! That's what I call a jack and coke. Those little glasses they serve in Europe and everything. That's what I named it, big black cock. And that's another song about me dealing with the pressures of this album and how I, you know, I'm trying to kill myself, but you know? Do I really want to kill myself? Things I'm just questioning myself. Most of this is self-structured.

Pretty

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's a story about this little girl that came into the coroner's office when I was working there and she was f**ked by her dad. She was an 11 month old little baby girl. Her legs were broken back behind her and he just f**ked her like a toy doll and chucked her in the bathroom. It was the most heinous thing I've ever seen in my life and I still have nightmares about it.

All in the Family

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Fred was there after Korn TV and we said, 'Let's do a song together, Hey, man, let's go back and forth and rip on each other like an old school battle.' I don't know who's idea it was, I can't remember if it was mine or Fieldy's or Fred's but we came up with the idea and we started writing and we worked on it together. I came up with some bags on myself for Fred to say. It was all in good natured fun.

Reclaim My Place

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

This one is about the whole band and about all my life being called a homosexual. And then I became this big rock star in a band and I'm still called a fag even by my own band. So it's like I was f**kin' pissed off at them. It's like erase them all because I'm gonna reclaim my place and say hey, they owe a lot to me for what I did, and I owe a lot to them back. But, it still kinda sucks. I've never ever gotten away from that fag f**kin' title. Just because I'm a sensitive kinda guy. Kinda feminine it really sucks.

Justin

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Justin, that was the kid dying terminally with intestinal cancer. His last dying wish was to meet us and it really freaked me out. That threw a whole bunch of new kind of pressures on my head. That's really intense. Someone's gonna die and his last thing he wants to do is come hang out with us. So I truly just freaked out. It's like why would you want to meet me? What makes me so special? And in turn I talk about how I admire his strength and his life. I couldn't stare at him because he was so content he was gonna die. No one could look him in the eyes. And I totally admire his strength. I wish I had it.

Seed

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Seed. That's all about the same thing again. I laying in bed in my hotel room, thinking about do I really need all this stuff? All this pressure on me? Because I'm a stressed out freak. It's about Nathan, it's about every time that I look into his eyes, I see myself how I used to be, innocent and stress free. I'm kind of jealous of it. It really sucks, I used to be that way. It's like I have to work so hard at this thing in my life. I have to become a stressed out freak. I put food on the table for my child. Every time I look in his eyes, I just see myself staring right back at my @ss laughing. I was like care free, innocent as a child. It's really weird and I'm really jealous of it.

Cameltosis

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's a love song. It's about women in general, women who hurt me. It's Tre's lyrics. He's going on about chicks and my chorus is like I'm so scared to love anyone and really let them in after I got hurt really really bad by a girl. I've let Renee in a little bit, to be honest, but I'll never be that in love ever again. That's what I'm saying, if you've loved twice, you're gonna get f**ked, 'cause you usually do.

My Gift to You

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Renee always wanted me to write her a love song and that's why I called it My Gift To You. It's my gift to her, you know how I get sick. I always had a fantasy of f**king her and choking her to death. I fantasize about what it would look like me in her body and watching me do it. So it's like a really sick f**ked up song. I did it totally like, I love her so much, I want to take her out of this world. It's really strange. She used to leave notes on my pillow like 25 ways she'd like to kill me. She's got this weird death fetish. We're kinda f**kin' freaky. She got it. She's all 'Thank you that's kinda f**ked up. I was expecting a f**kin' I love you, baby kinda song.' I'm all, 'No, you know me.' I mean I can't do that.

Chi

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Chi is about a lot of alcohol and drug abuse. People turn to that when they have problems so that they won't have to feel their pain. The song was named after Chi Cheng from the Deftones. We named it after him because he used to call it reggae, and he loves reggae music.

Lost

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's the sterotypical thing about your best friend meeting a chick, and then you're nothing

Swallow

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That's about being paranoid. Drug-induced paranoia.

Good God

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a guy I knew in school who I thought was a my friend, but who f**ked me. He came into my life with nothing, hung out at my house, lived off me, and made me do sh*t I didn't really wanna do." "I was into new romantic music and he was a mod, and he'd tell me if I didn't dress like a mod he wouldn't be my friend anymore."

"Whenever I had plans to go on a date with a chick he'd sabotage it, because he didn't have a date or nothing. He was a gutless f**king nothing. I haven't talked to him for years.

Mr. Rogers

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Back in the day when I was a speed freak, um... even further back when I was a little kid watchin' Mr. Rogers, that sh*t was scary. He was a freaky old man... Land of Makebelieve and Mr. f**kinMcFeely and sh*t... made me sick. So back when I was doing speed, like for 5 or 6 days I'd be trippin out and my brain would start to get freaky and get schizophrenic and stuff, and I'd tape it and watch it everyday over and over... I don't know, I was sick in the head. As a kid he told me to be polite and all it did was get me picked on. I f**king hate that man. Thanks for making me polite and trusting everyone, and easy to take advantage of. So I spent 3 months on that one song, just tweakin' on it, and it was totally just my Mr. Rogers obsession, about how evil I thought he was. Pretty much drug induced.

K @ # Ø % (Kunt)

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

People think it's sexist but it isn't. It's more subconcious b*tching at all the women who've been with me in my life. It's not about women in feneral, just those women who hurt me." "Initially, we wrote it to send to American radio for a joke, because they always chop up all the other songs. So we were going to send a 'real' single seven days later."

A.D.I.D.A.S.

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It stands for all day I dream about sex. It's about how much of a pervert my ass is, and how I daydream about what a stud I am. But when it comes down to it, I'm a f**king pussy and I'm in there jacking off.

a** Itch

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

That was the last song I wrote, and I was so burned at writing out lyrics because everytime I write I get depressed because I start thinking about things, you know? So the whole song is about that. In the chorus it says, 'Before day, my sun will be dying'. It's because I put myself on the line all the time and for what? Because people aren't going to be listening to it anyway.

Kill You

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a relative I first met when I was 12. I f**king hate that b*tch. She's the most evil, f**ked up person I've met in my whole life. She hated my guts. She did everything she could to make my life hell. Like, when I was sick she'd feed me tea with Tabasco, which is really hot pepper oil. She'd make me drink it and say, 'You have to burn that cold out, boy'. f**ked up sh*t like that. So every night when I'd go to sleep, I'd dream of killing that b*tch. In some sick way I had a sexual fantasy about her, and I don't know what that stems from or why, but I always dreamt about f**king her and killing her

Ball Tongue

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

The meaning of ball tongue is simple. Some thought it had to do with oral sex, but in fact its about a guy we had to work with on a t-shirt (Jeff Creath). He either had a pierced tongue or a wart or something on his tongue and he was a dick to us.

Different live: Jonathan goes into a Rap (by Coolio) Called "Loddi Doddi" in the middle of the song.

Clown

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Korn was playing a show in San Diego for a clothing card. This skinhead guy came up and started flippin' me off. When we started, I bent down and the guy took a swing at me. Our tour manager, Jeff, got into it and knocked the guy out. I wrote this song about him: 'Scared to be honest with yourself/you're a cowardly man.

Faget

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

Everyone thinks I'm bashing gay people in this song, and I'm not. It's really about me going through high school being called 'pussy,' 'queer' and all that stuff, about getting picked on by all these jocks.

Shoots and Ladders

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It was written because all these little kids sing these nursery rhymes and they don't know what they originally meant. Everyone is so happy when singing but 'London Bridge' is about the Black Plague. All of them have these evil stories behind them." "The lyrics are all from nursery rhymes, and a lot of nursery rhymes go back to the Middle Ages. They're actually pretty twisted if you know the stories behind them, like about Black Death and stuff.

Helmet in the Bush

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

It's about a speed problem that I had. You know, you do a lot of speed and -- if you're a male -- your penis retracts severly. The guy heard at the beginning of the song is La Caco, a friend of the band. His real name is Michael and likes taco bell. He's a really Nice Guy and he has been friends with the band for years

Daddy

Song Meaning, Jonathan:

People think daddy' was writen because my dad f**ked me up the ass,thats not what the song's about. It wasn't about my dad or my mum. When I was a kid I was being abused by someone else and I went to my parents and told them about it. and they thought I was lying and joking around, they never did sh*t about it. They didn't belive it was happening to their son. I don't like to talk about that song, this is the most I've ever talked about it...

[bluerosewritings]

Tarts and Kisses | Riddle x Fem!Reader

[Originally posted on “The Heart Mirror” on Wattpad]

Riddle stared at his phone, biting his lip. The red head wasn't usually one for late nights - if things were going his way, he would have finished going over his notes half an hour ago and would now be sleeping. Unfortunately, things were not going his way.

Because of rule 373 of the Queen of Hearts - 'if one is unable to be near the person of their affection, they must partake in a form of communication at the 9th hour of the 5th night' - the two of you always called each other at nine o'clock every Friday. The two of you had also decided to alternate who called who each week, this week being your turn to call.

Yet you hadn't called.

At first, Riddle had brushed it off as you being distracted. Sure, he was a little annoyed that you hadn't properly adhered to the rules, but whenever you hadn't in the past you usually had a proper reason.

So when Riddle watched the clock hit ten, he began to worry. Surely you wouldn't have taken this long to call? As menial as the calls were, you'd told him often how you "loved just hearing his voice". Maybe you fell asleep? But wouldn't you have told him how tired you were?

Unable to take it any longer, Riddle left his room. As he passed by the dorm lounge, he caught a glimpse of Trey out the corner of his eye.

"You're back late, Trey," Riddle said, slowing down his pace, "are you finished with the food for tomorrow's Unbirthday Party?"

"Hmm? Oh, Riddle. Thought you'd be asleep by now." Trey replied.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm on my way to check on (y/n)," Riddle frowned, "she missed our Friday call, and I... need to make sure that she has a proper reason."

Trey smiled, knowing how soft Riddle could be when it came to enforcing rules on you. Then realisation dawned on him.

"Ah, Riddle, she won't be in her dorm," Trey explained, "I asked her to help me with the last of the Unbirthday Party food, but we had an accident... nothing major. But it probably distracted her."

"I see... thank you, Trey. Make sure nothing happens while I'm gone."

"W-Wait, Riddle...!"

—

You pushed the tart to the back of the fridge. After closing the door, you looked over at the other treats lined up on the cafeteria kitchen's windowsill. Trey had said that they would be better there instead of the fridge.

Next, you walked over to the oven and peered at the tray of cookies. Rows of hearts, spades, clovers, diamonds and roses were hardening nicely from what you could tell. Since you'd left them until last, Trey had said to just let them cool and he'd ice them in the morning. That just left...

You turned around and grimaced. The giant pile of flour and the wrapping they exploded from taunted you. Where did they keep the broom again...?

Before you could begin your search, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your body. You turned around to see who it was only to have a pair of lips crash against yours mid-turn.

At first you panicked, then your eyes noticed a familiar heart-shaped cowlick. Relieved, you relax into the kiss, wrapping your own arms around your boyfriend. When you sadly pull apart, Riddle presses a kiss on your cheek. You smile and nuzzle your face into his neck, allowing him to press a third kiss on the top of your head.

"You worried me." Riddle mumbled, stroking the back of your head.

"Worried?" You frowned. "Why?"

Riddle sighed. "(y/n), it's nearly 11."

"Wait, what?" You pulled away from the hug and went over to your bag. Once you fished your phone out, you cringed at the time on the display. "Oh, Riddle, I'm so sorry..."

"As you had a genuine reason, I'll let you off the hook this time," Riddle said kissing your other cheek, "however, next time it'll be off with your head. Understand?"

You giggled. "Yes, my Queen."

Before you could lean in for another, the oven timer went off. Remembering the cookies, you cursed and grabbed the oven mitts.

Riddle watches as you start unloading the cookies onto a cooling tray, his eyes brightening with amusement as you start moving the rose-shaped ones.

"Did you do these one?" He asks.

"That obvious?" You chuckle, feeling your cheeks light up slightly.

Riddle shakes his head, smiling. "We don't usually have rose-shaped cookies for the Unbirthday Party, so I figured you must have thought of it instead of Trey. They're cute."

"T-Thanks." You stammer.

You push the rack backwards towards the rest of the treats. Riddle takes the oven mitts off you and puts them away as you make room for all of them.

"Is everything meant to be on the side?" Riddle asks when he's back by your side.

You nod. "Trey said only the tarts had to go in the fridge. Everything else was better off on the side to cool - I was just making sure the cookies were easy to reach, since they need to be iced in the morning..."

Riddle hums in response. "If you want, I could help you move everything to Heartslabyul. That way-"

"No!" Riddle looks at you, confused. "I-I mean, I don't wanna risk dropping anything! Since, y'know, w-we won't have any time to remake it..."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded quickly.

"Very well..." He said, not full believing you but deciding not to push it. Maybe you were just tired.

You sighed in relief. Riddle already seeing the rose cookies was already a bit of a let down, but as long as he didn't see what was in the fridge, it wasn't all for nothing.

Your eyes caught sight of the flour pile again. "Oh, shoot, I forgot about that... Riddle, do you know where they keep the cleaning broom?"

Riddle followed your line of vision and saw the pile. It was almost up to his ankles, with parts of their bags sticking out. This must of been the accident Trey was talking about - flour bags all exploding on the ground.

He took a look at your face and decided it was best not to ask. Now that he got a good look at you, there were bags under your eyes. You really were tired.

"Allow me." Taking out his magic pen, Riddle chanted a short spell.

The flour and paper bags lifted off the floor. With another flick of his wrist, two of the bins opened and the levitating items sorted themselves into them.

You let out a sigh of relief and kissed your boyfriend's cheek. "Thanks. I really didn't want to deal with that..."

Riddle chuckled, catching your hand in his. "I could tell. Was there anything else? Or can I walk you back to your dorm now?"

"You may." You say with a smile.

You threaded your fingers between his as the two of you set off. While you tried to listen to what you boyfriend was telling you, a mix of tiredness and thoughts of tomorrow were making it near impossible. Even as you kissed Riddle goodnight and waved him off, all you could think about was his future smile at your present.

—

The horns sounded off. "Our great leader! The Crimson Ruler! Announcing Dorm Head Riddle!"

"Dorm Head Riddle! Hip hip hooray!"

He really did look like royalty, you thought, watching Riddle walk down to the head table, crown balanced on his head and cape fluttering behind him. As according to the laws of the Queen of Hearts, Trey as vice dorm leader was to his left and you as his girlfriend were to his right. Not wanting to risk any chance of him seeing your gift, you shifted your legs slightly to block the bag as best as you could, Riddle luckily being too preoccupied with checking the decorations to notice your fidgeting.

"You all have your teacups?" Cater nudged you and you quickly grabbed your teacup's handle. "Today is nobody's birthday, so to this Unbirthday Party! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Rang out across the field.

You took a sip - earl grey for this month - and looked over at Riddle. His gaze was directed towards the selection of tarts Trey had made; berries and cream, raspberry almond crumb, brown butter apple. You saw the flicker of confusion in his eyes. Figuring now was the perfect time, you placed down your cup.

You pulled the bag onto your lap. "Riddle?"

Riddle turned to you. "Yes?"

Surprise lit up his face when you emptied the bag. Carefully, you held out a strawberry tart towards him. The tart was slightly smaller than the others, with the strawberry slices carefully arranged into the shape of a heart.

"Sorry if I seemed a little off yesterday," you said as he takes the tart off you, "I just didn't want you to find out. You're always so kind to me, helping me out even when we weren't dating... I wanted to do something for you in return."

A soft smile grew on Riddle's face. You swear you could feel your heart jump out of your chest when you two made eye contact, the adoration in his eyes making you melt. The kiss he pressed against your cheek didn't help.

"Thank you." Riddle seemed to whisper in your ear.

Riddle pulled away and placed the tart on a plate. Carefully, he took out a knife and cut out a slice, placing it on his plate.

"Shouldn't Ace do that for you?" You asked, remembering the Queen of Hearts rule 41.

"I'd rather do it myself." Riddle replied, prompting a small blush grew on your cheeks.

While Riddle tried to keep his adult composure, inside he was like a gleeful child. Cutting away part of the tart, Riddle couldn't stop his heart rate growing at the thought of you making this especially for him. It tasted different from Trey's - a little heavier, but somehow sweeter. So sweet. It was addicting.

He glanced over at you. You were watching him nervously, smiling when he caught your eye. Spearing another part of the tart, he brought it to your lips.

"Say 'aah'." Riddle wasn't usually one for public affection, but he felt it was only right to share the tart with you. The red glow on your face was nice too.

The tart hadn't tasted exactly how you thought it would, but watching Riddle immediately return to finish off the slice before cutting off another. As he offered you another taste, you wondered if Trey would let you help with baking again.

[arsonistslut]

Chapter 9: Reminders of Tragedy

"Hey, Jane!"

"Hey, Ingrid! How is my favorite person in the world?"

Jane's girlfriend of a good 9 years now happily walked over and kissed her on the cheek, beaming as she always seemed to do whenever she looked at her lover.

"Amazing now that you're here. Hey, you wanna go to that party Randy's having at his house tomorrow?"

"He's having a party? I didn't figure him the partying type."

"Despite the whole business parents thing, he is a real party animal. Hey, you know what's weird about the party?"

"What is?"

"He invited that Jeff guy there..y'know, that creep with the Conduct Disorder?"

She gestured to the tall, dark clothed young adult that sat alone at a lunch table nearby, playing with a switchblade.

"Hey, I remember him being pretty nice.."

"Remember him? You two date at some point?"

"We did, actually, wayyyy back."

Jane smirked when she saw the look of surprise and pride on Ingrid's face when she realized she guessed right.

"What was he like?"

"He was a sweetheart. Cheesy, but a sweetheart. Hell, even cheesier than me."

"Jane, you've carved our names into multiple trees. There's no out-cheesing that."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how we met, either. My dad was out mowing the lawn, and he accidentally ran over a rock and it hit Jeff in the head."

"Oof, that sounds bad.."

"I visited him in the hospital with my parents one time, and I will never forget what he said to me as a pick-up line."

"What did he say?"

Jane cleared her throat, before trying her darndest to do an impression of a young Jeff.

"Did you come from heaven? Because you look like an angel!"

Ingrid couldn't help but let out a giggle as she quickly pulled Jane into her arms.

"Aww, that sounds so cute!"

"It was!"

Jeff himself was hearing this conversation from afar, the little tricks he played with his knife not an adequate distraction from the constant reminder of what could've been.

"I don't think he handled our breakup too well..nobody really wanted to treat him as anything other than a freak after his diagnosis went public. One time, I heard him ranting to his brother about how it was hypocritical of the school to do a health topic on depression when they wouldn't stop judging him for his CD."

"Sheesh, it sounds like he's been through a lot..poor kid could use a friend."

"It doesn't really look like he wants any. Liu isn't sitting with him..that's weird, Liu always sits with him."

"Prolly had an argument or something, you know siblings."

"Yeah.."

The day continued without incident, Jeffrey getting home at the same time as usual..yet his mind was not thinking about the party, or school, he was thinking about Jane and Ingrid. Why was Jane so special that she had everything she wanted in life and not him? What crime did he commit that landed him with absent parents, demonization from his peers, and a fucking smile cut into his face? That love, that relationship they had..Jeff came to the conclusion that it was something to be destroyed.

Liu, meanwhile, was..struggling with something. Something he never expected would be a problem in his life. Lately, he began having these thoughts..these violent, awful, intrusive thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be begging to be spoken aloud, the actions they describe seeming to grow more and more appealing as time passed.

Kill Randy.

Maim Keith.

Skin Troy like the cattle he is.

Maybe if he gave the thoughts an identity, they'd be easier to handle, he thought as he thought of a name for these urges..one stood out from the others. Not at all goofy, but not as laughably edgy as the other options.

Chapter 10: Enter Sully

Liu ended up speaking to Sully for the entire night..and even into the morning. When Jeff woke up the next morning, he could already hear Liu downstairs talking with..someone.

"It's sad, really..so concerned about themselves..no time spared for you."

"I-I guess..but they've got more important things to worry about.."

"Child, they do not have a thought in them about you. They're all self centered egomaniacs that would rather get pushed around by a genetic failure of a human rather than do anything about their situation!"

"That's not true, Sully! You're lying!"

A horrible growl soon came from the room.

"We are friends, child! Friends do not lie to each other, do they?"

"I..I guess not..goodbye for now, Sully."

"Where are you going?"

"I..I need some time to think."

Liu got back up, jumping from fear when he saw his brother staring at him.

"Holy shit, Jeff! You scared me!"

"I bet."

Awkward silence soon filled the dining room where they stood.

"Hey, Jeff...?"

"What?"

"I'm..sorry about punching you, and saying all that shit about you. I shouldn't have done that."

"No shit, Sherlock."

The elder brother turned around and began walking back up to his room, but not before his brother called out to him.

"Hey..is there any way I could make things up between us?"

"You could make things up by not betraying my trust again. You're all I've got, Liu..don't pull a Jane and fuck it up for me."

Liu always did question that grudge Jeff held for his ex, after all, he chatted with her in the past, and it always seemed like she genuinely enjoyed what her and Jeff had, and she always felt bad for leaving him like that. Hell, it sounded like it was as painful for her to leave him as it was for him to find out that his girlfriend left him. He was tempted to point that out, but he feared ruining things with his brother again.

"Alright.."

Chapter 11: A Hell of A Party

When Jane and Ingrid rounded the corner home, they found..a disturbing sight. A dead raccoon laying in the middle of the street, it's guts ripped out of it's body and thrown aside, Jeff gleefully pawing through the freshly murdered animal, childishly gawking and giggling over the corpse.

"Hey, Jeffrey! What happened here, what the fuck did you do?!"

Ingrid cried out to the blood-soaked kid, who looked up at her, confusion riddling his bloodied face.

"I killed a raccoon. It's not like anyone's gonna miss it."

"Why, you little-"

Ingrid slapped Jeffrey right across the face, knocking him to the ground as Jane held her girlfriend back and tried to keep the situation from escalating any further.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"You killed a helpless animal, you freak!!"

"I oughta kill you next, you piece of-"

Woods choked on his own spittle as he made his threat, never having been particularly..elegant with his words.

"Oh, really?! I'll kick your teeth down your fucking throat!"

"I swear to God, I'll strangle you with your own fucking intestines!!"

When Jeff reached for his switchblade, Jane panicked and grabbed her lover's hand, running off with her as Woods continued to scream at them.

"Your last words better be some Mark Twain shit, because it's going on your tombstone!! You hear me?!"

That experience was all on Jane's mind as she watched Jeff steadily get more and more wasted by the bonfire outside as time went on, at least, what glimpses she could catch of him when she wasn't busy dancing with the other students. Randy was also outside, reluctantly playing Truth Or Dare with the others as well as his increasingly hot and bothered enemy.

"Ok, Jeff!"

"Whaddup, baby?~"

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare, hit me with the worst ya got!"

"Slow dance with Randy."

"What the-no! I'm straight as a arrow, dude!"

"So is spaghetti until it gets wet~"

"Jeff, never say that again."

"C'mooooon, do the dare, ya pussy~ I don't bite!~"

Woods took his time getting up, but still had enough cognitive function to put on Grover Washington Jr's "Just The Two Of Us", to try and improve the mood, but Randy still wasn't having any of it. In a last ditch effort to try and seduce Randy, Jeffrey just..up and took his shirt off. That'll get things going, right? No, it didn't. Despite some swooning from some of his classmates, Randy himself didn't want any part of this. He was a few drinks deep as well, so in a drunken haze, he grabbed one of the bottles of booze they had, took a running start, and smashed it right over Jeff's head. The problem with that is that they were only a couple feet away from a bonfire, so when Jeff stumbled backward, he fell right into it, the alcohol on his exposed flesh quickly igniting. He quickly burst into flames, screaming and running off as the fire quickly seared his body, every remaining nerve ending he had that wasn't burnt away shocking his body with waves of pain. He could feel his scalp burning up once his hair was scorched away, finally finding solace in a nearby puddle that put out the flames. Jeff could see his life flashing before his eyes..his family, his brother..that was all he could see. As Randy and the other students' screams of horror faded away, Woods silently cursed himself for not doing anything more with his life..a single bloody tear rolled down his face as he shut his eyes for what he believed would be the last time.

Chapter 12: The End Of The Beginning

Suddenly..he was in some sort of void. The ground beneath him was black as pitch, and footsteps began to grow ever closer to him. When Jeff looked to see who was approaching, he found no earthly being waiting for his attention. When he laid his eyes on whatever approached, the previously totally dark void began to turn a sickly red. What stood before him was a monster unlike any other, an otherwordly monster many believed to be a mere tall tale.

HE COMES.

[taereel]

call out my name | drabble

- pairing : kim taehyung | female reader

- genre : angst, lil fluff (if you squint near the end)

- word count : 900

- rating : none

notes ~ hi, um this is my very first post and it's probably very bad but I was listening to Call out my name by The Weekend on repeat and this is what I created from it. sorry if I've made errors but I'm still unsure of my writing style but I was wondering if I should create a au based of this... pls let me know if you'd like one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They say if you put ur heart to it and wish with all your might your dreams will come true.

And I had all I ever wanted right in front of me but so far away, out of reach. It was always just taehyung and y/n to infinity and beyond. However, now it was as if the higher beings were looking down upon me and laughing at my misery, ironically it was pouring heavily in the midst of this beautiful autumn breeze, which my jacket couldn't even conceal, that was once my favorite. It was my favorite because it was with her and now, she stares back at me bewildered and hesitant. Those pools of hazel which once held the galaxies and sparkled for me were now replaced with confusion swimming around. She wasn't hapilly dancing around or goofing around in the rain with me and talking those cringe worthy couple pics we used to make fun of before lo and behold we became that couple. Instead she was stood in front of me shivering and it was the Sound of her sniffling that awakened me from my daze.

Now that I had her alone from all her friends who despised me and wanted nothing more from me but to stop trying because 'it's over taehyung', or 'forget it, she's moved on' and 'do you not understand... it's your fault'. I wasn't going to back away because this was my only chance and I couldn't cower away because everyone said so. She needs me, she needs to know what happened and I desperately need her back too. I needed her to tell me it was all going to be okay, that it was all going to pass and that's she remembered me. That she would remember me even if it was only just for a moment.... I would take it, if it meant she looked at me, talked to me. Even just for a moment.

11:55pm

'so...why don't you call out my name? call out my name again when I'd kiss you so gently, caress your cheeks so delicately, take your hand in mine ever so slowly. why can't you remeber when I'd hold you so tightly and wipe away your tears? y-y/n? I always put you on top and claimed you so openly and when times were rough, I'd console you, till you forgot and called out my name, till only you and I mattered. just call out my name, like when you'd be so overjoyed you'd smile till it hurt and laugh till you dropped, grabbing me and taking me down with you until we would both laugh till we could take it no more. b-baby p-please, just stop for a moment and let me embrace you once more because I can't take it no more having you so far away from my reach that I can't touch you... so call out my name just once and I'll be on my way, okay? b-but baby just wait till I fall out of l-love with you, wait till your just a passing thought in my head, wait until I can't remeber your touch or your body against mine. Just wait until our memories are just mere memories. But call out my name like you once did when you cried, smiled, danced, screamed and shouted at the top of your lungs. I'm going crazy not hearing your voice blanket around me. I want you to stay, eventhough, you don't want me, why can't you wait until I fall out of l-love. It's hard I know but when times were rough I was your anchor your home, I gave up a piece of myself for you, to protect you. girl why can't you wait before you grasp someone else's hand and hug so tightly like I once did, dance with them till you can't nomore, hold them against you and scream out their name instead of mine... I still want you so badly, so call out my name just one more time and I'll go, so I know falling in love with you wasn't my mistake. I said I could be strong and move on without you but I lied, so prove me wrong and call out my n-name. Do it one last time and tell me you remeber us... remember m-me'.

Voice cracking and taking a deep breathe, i finally peered over my bangs to look upon her who was just stunned, frozen in place. Everything I vomited out was hard to digest even for me. Did I make sense? Is she even more confused because of you taehyung? Multiple irrational and heart-breaking thoughts rushed in immediately, she can't remeber, can she... It's not like it's her fault but I desperately hung onto that small piece of light shining through which would prove me wrong and say she does.

He hoped their memories were strong enough to prevent his heart shattering even further into a million broken pieces, that he knew he couldn't heal.

I don't know what I actually expected but the mere thought of her finding someone new who smiles at her and treats her just like I did makes me bitter, eventhough, I should wish for her betterment and wish her luck, I physically and mentally cannot take it no more. This emptiness within me is becoming harder to handle and I guess I have to let go... Admitting defeat and looking at her doe eyes one final time breaks me down just a little more, before I turn around for her sake and mine, more like the latter, to move on. Move on from my first love... My first everything.

Fists unwantingly clenching onto the material of her shirt and wanting nothing more to than run home rather than stand in this gloomy rain any further and forget what occurred, she stays rooted in her spot her clothes now drenched thoroughly. She couldn't help but want to understand what he was saying. The words faintly familiar and his voice a soothing honey but husky... Everything seems rather familiar to her but why? Why can't she remeber? The weather was remotely mirroring his melancholic words but up until this point she believed him to merely be a passing figure she brushed passed a few times in the hallways, scrambling to make it to her lecture on time. So why did his words hold more depth and meaning to her as if she was the reason behind his pain. Looking up at his tear-stricken face made her eyes widen because she was the reason due to his tears and her heart clenched and unclenched wanting nothing more to than wipe away his tears and assure him that everything was okay. However, before she could clarify these thoughts and actions, her lips parted and words were coming out to desperately stop him.

00:00

... 'Tae!'

[psicomma-s-very-secret-lab]

#Introducing ToSha

I've come to realize I've never said anything about Keisha and Tony. This ship was only born last summer but me and my friend have caught back a serious case of ToSha fever a few days ago so I'm taking this opportunity to introduce them properly.

*Keisha and Tony are part of a story yet unnamed that takes place a few days/weeks after the events of Blindsight. Tony actually has an active role in Blindsight since he's the handyman of the Nocenti family who wants Shaun, Chester and Ani dead. By that I mean he's taking care of all the dirty work. I don't wanna spoil Blindsight but Tony ends up more or less changing sides and betraying his family by making a bargain with Shaun to save Ani (they've got a hilarious bromance going on but that's another story)

*Tony is a smart guy. And also kind. His dad, Gene Nocenti, is a mafioso, his mom is a nurse and he's very close to her. He has a conflicted relationship with his brothers because he wasn't born from the same mother. Astero, the first born blatantly dislikes Tony and used to bully him when they were kids. Marco, the second born, is used to walk into Astero's footsteps, so he's mimicking his brother's animosity towards Tony without really knowing why. Silver, the youngest of the bunch (Tony's little brother) was the only one Tony could really get along with on his father's side. Tony was Silver's role model and they spent a lot of time together despite their differences.

*And then there's Keisha Romero. The prettiest girl on the block. The prettiest girl in all the fucking Bronx, some would say. Tony and Keisha have known each other since forever, they've been living in the same street since they were kids (Keisha with her parents, her grandma, her two sisters and her baby brother, and Tony alone with his mom) so they didn't see each other as a potential romantic interest at first, not at all. He was just a stupid guy heckling with the other boys on the block, she was just a bratty little miss know-it-all who thought she knew better because she was reading her dad's newspaper.

*Around 11-12 they started to see each other under a different light. Keisha was becoming prettier everyday, the boys were slowly beginning to notice it. Tony on the other hand stayed a scrawny stray cat for a long time, but never really felt self conscious about it. It's only around 15 he had the most epic glo-up, nobody understood what happened.

*Keisha always liked Tony. That's why she was always acting superior with him ; she was clumsy but all she wanted was for him to notice her. She liked him even before he got the glo-up and her friends would start giggling whenever he would pass by in the hallway. It's also probably the reason why she would dismiss all the boys who would be bold enough to ask her out. At 15, Keisha had the reputation of a virgin warrior princess in high school. She was seen as unreachable. One day Tony's friends dared him to ask her out, he didn't want to do it, but the boys pushed him and turned that into a bet "if she says yes you win 50 bucks! But I guess we'll never know cause ya ain't even got the balls to ask her. "- Tony didn't like that. He liked Keisha and wanted to ask her out but that thing felt really wrong, she didn't deserve to be played. In the end Tony took the bet reluctantly ; cause he was 15 and you know how easily a young boy breaks under peer pressure.

*To everyone's surprise, Keisha said yes when Tony asked her out. Especially him. "Are you for real?" "Yeah but I gotta be home by 9 and you'll have to pick me up and walk me to my house after that." He was the only guy she wanted to go out with, but he had no idea. Tony won the goddamn 50 bucks, but he didn't give a shit. He had a date with Keisha, the prettiest girl on the block. But to him she was still bratty ShaSha ; he gave her that nickname when they were kids and she never liked it, so he never gave it up.

*They started dating and it was wonderful for like one month. He was her first date, her first slow dance, her first kiss (excuse me yes, this is a teen movie sorry I should've put a trigger warning) but rumours run fast and ShaSha quickly learnt about the bet. She was furious. She went to talk to him that afternoon where he was chilling with his friends in the yard and slapped him before he could even say a word. Then she dumped him in front of everyone, and left, still furious. Tony's friends were laughing at him but he didn't really care. He knew he wouldn't be hanging out with those fuckers anyway from now on. Keisha cried herself to sleep that night. Tony was also her first heartbreak.

*Keisha got over that heartbreak eventually. The next year, Tony found new friends, and his new friends were friends with Keisha's friends so they ended up forming a clique, eating together at lunch, etc. At first Tony and Keisha were avoiding each other, but everything went fine when she found herself another boyfriend and finally accepted Tony's excuses. They were hanging out again. They were closer than ever. Tony didn't mind that Keisha was dating another guy, he was happy for her. But on the other hand, Keisha wasn't as happy as she claimed when Tony started to date Maria, a friend they had in common. She was jealous af. And she started idealising Maria and having self esteem issues. She broke up with her then bf shortly after that. The days passed and Tony and Maria were still together. Tony was treating her right, and Keisha was happy Maria found him cause she deserved it (the girl had a very difficult family situation, and a very tough life in general) but she couldn't help feeling jealous and she felt awful for that. He was really in love with her, and she hated it.

*When they were in senior year, Tony and Keisha's lives took separate paths. They both got accepted at Columbia university, and they were excited to go and to be able to see each other there, but things went down by the end of the school year : Maria got addicted to heroin, and Tony's mom was attacked by enemies of the Nocentis (cause Tony's mom is a nurse, that's how she met his gangster of a father. She still heals his men from time to time) and after all that Tony didn't feel like going to Columbia anymore. He couldn't leave his mom, he couldn't leave his girl.

*Keisha went to college and did very good. She liked the life on campus, and she liked to study. The life in Manhattan was nothing like in the Bronx, and she enjoyed that change. She felt like she could've gotten used to that. Everything was good as gold for her but nasty things were happening at the same time in the North of the city, in the streets where she had been growing up. Keisha's dad got sick, he was no longer able to walk, her kid brother, Joaquin, was becoming a troubled teenager, got arrested for theft and assault multiple times before the age of 14 and was sent to juvenile hall at 15. Maria had died from an overdose, and Tony was nowhere to be found. She didn't try to keep in touch with him ; when was silently blaming him because he chose to stay in the Bronx instead of going to uni with her. She understood her choice and didn't expect less of him, but she was mad, mad that he didn't give up everything to go with her.

*Keisha heard back from Tony at 23, when she was about to get her master's degree. She had a boyfriend, a PhD student from the same department as her, and everything was fine, until Tony reappeared. She agreed to meet with old friends from high school downtown, and Tony offered to pick her up so they'd go together. He knocked at her door, she opened, and all her feelings were brought back to life the second she saw him. It was a weird love at first sight ; falling instantly for someone you've always known. He was the same but he was different, it showed that he had grown out brutally from boyhood to become the man he was now. Also he was wearing a sleeveless hoodie, was visibly just going out from the gym cause his strong arms were glistening with sweat. She couldn't help but to stare like an idiot. He stared back at her "Campus life did you good ShaSha, you're beaming". It took like... One minute before things got completely out of hand and they ended up fucking each other's brain's out in Keisha's dorm room. They didn't know where that came from ; they hadn't seen each other in years, they had no idea what they were doing. They just knew they needed it, and that it felt good.

*Keisha had never been an 'easy girl'. The idea of sex always more or less repulsed her, and even though she had been dating a few guys since she was 15, she didn't lose her virginity before that day, with Tony. Once again he was her first, and it felt amazing cause that was exactly what she wanted. She knew she was cheating on her bf but she didn't care, cause Tony drove her completely crazy. What she didn't anticipate was the consequences of that raunchy afternoon spent on campus with her long time friend. Three weeks later she realised she was pregnant.

*Coming from a very Catholic family, and being the good and committed daughter that she is, Keisha renounced to abortion. She graduated with her bump starting to show. Her bf, thinking the kid was his, agreed to settle down with Keisha and help her raising the baby. They moved to South Carolina where he found a job as a teacher, Keisha gave birth to a beautiful boy that she named Noah, and they lived together for two years. They eventually broke up when Keisha confessed to her partner that he wasn't the baby's dad.

*Keisha went back to the Bronx only to find out the place she used to know had turned into a warzone. The Nocentis who had been protecting the neighborhood for decades were severely weakened now that the drug market had been stolen from them by an international cartel. Joaquin, Keisha's brother was out of juvenile hall and visibly not decided to go on the right track; he was now in bed with the local mafia.

*Tony was also irremediably on the wrong side of the fence at the moment. Keisha didn't want to know what he was doing exactly for his father and brothers, but the way people talked about him -the way they looked away when they mentioned his name- she knew it was probably bad. Very bad. When Tony saw Keisha coming back with her kid in her arms, he knew she would definitely always be out of his reach. He knew he was involved in very nasty shit, he didn't like or dislike his situation ; it was the way it was. He just knew it wasn't for her, he was ready to give up on her. He didn't understand why she came back. He had no idea he was the main reason.

*Shortly before the events of Blindsight ; Joaquin is killed by the Nocentis out of retaliation. Silver Nocenti is severely wounded after an altercation with an individual named Shaun Myers who happens to be closely related to the mortal enemy of the Nocenti family. Silver succumbed to his wounds a few days after that, in his hospital bed.

*When the 'Blindsight-extended-story-that-doesnt-have-a-name-yet' begins, Tony and Keisha are both mourning the loss of a younger brother, Keisha is doing money laundering for the Nocentis to pay back her brother's debts on top of breaking her back at the local diner to get money to feed her kid, while being blackmailed by Marco, Tony's older brother who's got his eyes on her. Tony is busy with the criminal stuff and the grief and the vendetta, and he doesn't know he's the father of Keisha's son. Ofc these idiots are still in love.

It's a mess but I think you got the pitch now *sweats nervously*

A cookie to anyone who managed to get to the bottom of this monster post without dying asphyxiated by all the fluff during the teen movie part at the beginning! 🍪

[spaci1701]

Ranking a few from worst to best (yes, really best).

Worst - a shrink my family was sent to by child services (NOT a child psychologist) due to suspected abuse - has one session as a family, one each with us individually and then tells me (7) and my brother (10) that "it's not fair what you're doing to your family" and "don't you think it would be more fun at home if we behaved so we weren't always in trouble?"

Almost as bad - teeth disintegrating due to prior medication, genetics and a bout of malnutrition. Fillings falling out and teeth shattering below the gum line. Trying to save up enough for dentures and on waiting list for full extraction. Constant infections. End up in the er in the worst pain of my life, hurting too badly to even sit down. In waiting room for almost two hours. Have to ask for an ice pack. Shown to a back room finally. Sit there for another two hours without anyone even looking in. Finally hint down a desk to ask if anyone was coming. Get told dismissively that they don't deal with my section but will pass on a message. An hour later this bitch finally comes in (won't dignify her with a title). I explain the situation. Her first q "So how much meth do you do?" (No other symptoms of drug use.) Tells me that I'm over-reacting and could have afforded the dentures much sooner if I didn't smoke. Jabs her finger HARD into the most painful spot on purpose, randomly jabs a novocaine needle into my upper gum 7 or 8 times causing a fair amount of bleeding, tells me it's clearly not infected and sends me home with a T3 prescription since that's "obviously what you came in for. "

Crawl into bed as soon as I get home and sleep for 3 hours. On awakening my dad took one look at me and took me straight to a different er. My face was so swollen I couldn't even put my glasses on. New doc treats me like a human being, explains that the pain was from the nerve in that tooth dying, tells me that they normally don't administer novocaine in the upper jaw without a dental specialist due to the high risk of missing and injecting it into the brain cavity and tells me that she clearly stuck the needle through a highly concentrated pocket of infection and released it into the rest of my face. I end up with a port on my arm for twice daily high dose antibiotic IVs for 10 days and another two weeks of high dose oral antibiotics following.

Bad - school counselor brought in at age 11 partially due to my fairly obvious problems, many of which were caused by the extreme bullying I got at school. Read a story I wrote of someone committing suicide by going over Niagara Falls in a barrel and assumed I was suicidal (wasn't at that time). Dealt with it by putting my entire clad through peer counseling training and TELLING THEM WHY -IN SPECIFICS.

Many other stories of varying degrees but...

Good - family doctor called me in for test results at 17 when I hadn't taken any test in 6 months except a pregnancy test. Used the time to officially apologize to me for not listening better when I tried to explain my mother's behaviour over the years. Stated that, "Every teenager thinks their parents are crazy. You were right." Sent me home with an iron supplement as an excuse for my mother. Got my mother diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder.

Best - Got inexplicably sick at a year old. Sudden spikes of life threatening fever, vomiting, failure to thrive, the works. Doc ran every test he could think of and then any his coworkers could think of. Discussed my case with every medical person he met, including at at least one cocktail party. Ran those tests. Couldn't find anything for over 2 years. Made hundreds of copies of my charts and mailed them to every every doctor in Canada that could possibly have a clue. Got a call from a doctor on the other side of the country demanding to know why I wasn't in the icu and why we were relying on my elderly mother for my care. After much confusion they figured out that the other doc had gotten a bad photocopy and misread my birthdate. Thought I was 33 instead of 3. Ended up with two surgeries on my kidneys to repair an issue that normally only shows up in adults. Was one of the first 10 people in either Canada or North America (Mom couldn't remember which) diagnosed with this under the age of 30. It's now in the books as a rare possibility for children. My life was saved by a technical misdiagnosis.

Do me a favor.

Reblog this if a medical professional has ever treated you like shit or fucked up your diagnosis or was just generally wrong.

[lamotriginerash]

Yeah, my interest in neuroscience/psychology probably started with me yelling "WHY WON'T YOU WORK?!" at my own brain, and because I wasn't getting much help from/wasn't very confident in the people who were treating me.

I started dealing with mental illness when I was 11, but I don't know when the bipolar hit me, exactly. I didn't get any kind of treatment until I was in my mid teens because my parents dismissed it, and the school barely knew I existed. I actually stopped by the school office once when I was 14, and told them I wanted to die. I waited there for maybe an hour or 2, but the guidance counselor never showed. I just got sent back to class with a note for my teacher. I started actually getting treated for bipolar when I was 16, but then 2 years later that diagnosis was thrown out the window. When I got my diagnosis last year, I wondered how much further into recovery could I have been by now if people would've listened a little more. Maybe I'd have finally found the right meds. I don't think my illness has gone too far to have messed up my cognition too badly, or my ability to handle meds. I'm only bipolar 2 (I hate saying "only" but I guess more mania would cause more damage?), so maybe that has something to do with it.

Or maybe I'm more worse off than I realize and just oblivious? That is kinda how I was with my mental health for most of my adult life. I even made fun of my original bipolar diagnosis like, "Oh a teenage girl is moody? She's obviously bipolar!" Aaaand it's that same sexism, and general misunderstanding of what bipolar actually is, that kept me/others from noticing it. Actually, I will give my ex some credit here. He was the only one who knew the whole time, but he's also bipolar (bipolar 1, to be probably unnecessarily specific).

If things had been treated properly, I probably could've finished school and started college at the same time my peers had. I could've been more successful in school, instead of being a complete erratic mess, failing at everything I could've easily passed. I could've achieved so many more of my academic goals. But, here I am, 28 years old, having to start over from where I should've started 10 years ago.

Definitely too much self-pity right there. Yikes.

And I don't know much about all of my grandfather's life with mental illness. He kept most of his life just in general to himself, but once he couldn't take his meds anymore because of his kidneys, he fell apart. He stopped leaving the house, even stopped eating. My dad and other relatives had to check in on him a lot. His age, like I said, was probably a major factor in this, and he had other mental health problems and stuff going on in his life, but it still shows just how important meds are for keeping this illness from destroying you. Even with my younger bipolar relatives, I can see how going untreated/getting ineffective treatment has affected them.

My ex was looking into ECT last year. I think he said a psychiatrist he used to see had suggested it to him years ago. I don't think he's going for it, though. I've looked into it (out of curiosity, I don't think it's necessary for me), but most of what I remember about it is what I got from Carrie Fisher's book Shockaholic.

Turns out what I thought was food poisoning is actually Vraylar side effects? Lol I am in so much pain