#needless to say i am not taking a test i got at fucking 6 as gospel and am getting reevaluated. but like. incredbile backire mom.

[redstonedust]

i had a conversation with my mom recently about neurodivergence and she interrupted me to say "you're normal though, i got you tested when you were 6 years old" to which i had to pause and ask "wait. why did you get me tested." and it turns out basically every teacher at my school implored her to get me checked out for autism and adhd after barely a year of knowing me. she said this to try and dispell the idea i could be neurodivergent but it's so hilarious how much it backfired because now i've spent the past 2 weeks going "SIX??? SIX YEARS OLD?? THEY NOTICED AND NOBODY TOLD ME??????"

[dzpenumbra]

7/5/23

My sleep is gonna be completely fucked. It's 6:20 AM and I'm just starting this. -_- So, needless to say, I'm going to keep it short.

I streamed for 5.5 hours today. I actually really wanted to play some Hades before bed tonight, and still haven't had the time. My entire day was... polish and add another coat of oil to the beads and pot - yoga, which was great - straight into working out which was intense, but I break up the sets by playing Hades while I'm cooling down, that system has been working well for me - then shower - then stream for 5.5 hours - then second coat on the beads and pot (which, if I took a break during stream, I'm now realizing I could've snuck in a third coat today) - now I'm here.

It's just been non-stop. Very full day. I guess it's the sanding that's consuming so much time. I have 28 beads I'm doing, and I have to sand/polish them individually. I think in the future I should try to sand them before putting the first coat of oil on, maybe even before dyeing them, then rely on polishing after that. I'll figure it out. The beads look amazing. They look like little Honeycrisp and Fuji apples, really nice rich color. They're the red ones that I added a thin coat of bluish purple to, to make them look organic... and I didn't like how they came out... so I decided to use them as a "test batch" for the tung oil, and they look fucking beautiful. I really want to prep another batch of beads, but... I really have to figure out a system with this sanding, it's super time-consuming and does a number on your hand after a while. I can't imagine how long a batch of over 100 beads sanded by hand would take. The tung oil finish is looking great though, very pleased with it.

I was swamped with inspiration today. I got ideas for animation, for grip tape design, for the visualizer program... I've actually also really been craving playing around with game design again. Maybe a card game of some sort? Or making a basic mod for a game that's already built? Hades is really inspiring me. It's a phenomenal game, amazing art style, amazing animation, very smooth and comfy playstyles, and the game concepts are really intriguing to me. Oh damn... maybe... --- oh god, I have to stop myself. I was gonna say "I should design a custom d20 campaign..." I've already done that! I don't have anyone to play with! I can't put my time into that again. But I've been tempted to look into maybe making a card game or board game, something like that. Hades is really inspiring me with that. The idea of randomization being a central pillar and building the game off of that.

I've just kinda been getting the urge to open up a program and use it like a sandbox and just go nuts. And tonight, I put that impulse into my visualizer program... and I came out with some cool shit. I made a visualizer that accurately simulated the solar system planetary orbits. I kept the planet spacing proportional, the orbit speeds proportional but had to tweak the planet sizes around to make them legible but not... bumping into each other. I then gave them sorta ghosted trails that formed when specific frequencies peaked, different frequencies for different planets. And started working on adding in stars in the background that flickered and grew in size in response to different frequencies. It came out pretty cool.

The end result wasn't a masterpiece by any means, but it was a good experiment to play around with learning new things in the program. I learned more about "Scenes", which you can kinda use as macros, which is an absolute godsend because my projects turn into spaghetti so fucking quick, it's ridiculous. And I'm really getting a feel for using multipliers vs using exponents for float values. And I'm keeping my workspace more organized too, which makes troubleshooting more streamlined. It's good, I'm enjoying it.

I want to make a visualizer that's like... a landscape silhouetted in front, so the focus is the sky... then as the music plays... the volume level is added to a float value cumulatively, so the music is fueling it... and that float value powers a day/night cycle. During the day, light rays and maybe clouds react to different frequencies in the music... during the night, stars flicker and the moon does its thing. I think that's a nice simple idea with some more complex components to it. I was saying at the beginning of my stream, I want to play around with the idea of very slow big-scale changes. I think it could be really cool. Again, I just kinda need to become more familiar with the program to feel more comfortable with it, and that's what I did today.

Alright, it's getting super late, if I don't go to bed now I never will.

[doggytail-duck]

Who knew going to sleep would be difficult after you spend half the day in the ER?

[irawhiti]

hi happy waitangi day!

if you're white and ESPECIALLY if you're a pākehā aotearoa new zealander feeling guilty about colonising my people and running my family out of the country we're indigenous to, i'm accepting donations <3

i'm currently living with a family of racist white people because it was either that or become homeless, i have no license so i'm dependent on them to take me places which they haven't been great about and there's literally no public transport where i am. i had about $800 stolen from me literally on christmas day and owe money to my sister so i could pay rent over that time, but most importantly right now my laptop has been shutting off at random for weeks now and it took 20 minutes just to get it to start up a few days ago. it's shut off at least 5 times while i've been writing this. it's already been on its last legs for awhile now and i'm getting real nervous because if i lose access to a computer i'll get cut off of my only source of income since it becomes a Lot more difficult for me to apply for jobs and keep in contact with my job network to stay on centrelink money + i won't be able to apply for work-at-home jobs. i only make $300 a fortnight from centrelink because they're STILL keeping me on dependent allowance which i'm sorting out and $200 of that goes to rent alone, so even if i don't get cut off i Really cannot afford a laptop right now.

also i got the flu over christmas (potentially covid, there was a positive case in the house at the same time, but who fucking knows lol, these people refuse to take me to covid tests until after i'm already recovering) and now i have bronchitis (i had to buy 6 rapid covid test that got brought up by my sister for $70 and split 3 with her, the people i live with refused to take me to get a pcr test despite me coughing up blood at one point 🙃). i've got asthma and several disablities that mess with my breathing so i really cannot catch a break here, i've been waking up in the middle of the night unable to breathe so needless to say i've been kind of struggling with getting all my legal stuff sorted while this has been happening.

so like, if you wanna help out a disabled māori living in australia for waitangi day, any money helps! i really need a couple hundred dollars for a decent enough laptop to stay afloat and keep drawing (meaning i can't just buy a shitty $50 laptop unfortunately, it has to be decent enough for me to draw and take commissions so i'm looking at over $500 aud for a laptop with good enough graphics, i can pay for some of it but i can't afford that shit on my own :/). i'll update the post if i get donations and any extra money i might get will go towards buying medication and getting more of my teeth fixed, they're hurting like hell again and it's hard to eat and i'd like to get more work done but right now i've gotta choose between being able to get government money and spending money to be able to eat without pain lol

(also i have to use my friend's paypal because paypal screwed me over a few years ago, if you could leave a message to make it clear it's for me so we can keep track easier it'd help a lot <3 thank you)

paypal.me/hoodypet

$0/$500

[vivisextion]

I first saw Slipknot at age 14.

No one knows how I managed it. I'm not sure I even remember. These days, you have to be 16 or 18 to get into Standing areas. I do know I had to buy tickets on the phone, back in the old days (2005, that is). A singular ticket, too - none of my friends, not even the classmate who had gone with me to see Linkin Park the year before, was that into Slipknot.

But I HAD to see them. This was the Subliminal Verses tour cycle, and Vol. 3 was my first and favourite Slipknot album, even to this day. It's the reliable old warm blanket for my soul whenever I need it. It's on right now, as I write this.

My memory isn't that good, but luckily I unearthed a livejournal (livejournal!) diary entry about the event I made the next day.

August 16, 2005. I went right after school. I went to a very conservative Anglican secondary school, too. I tried not to get caught in the bathroom, as I coloured my nails black with permanent marker (I know, don't laugh) and changed into my standard metalhead baby outfit - Slipknot band shirt, black cargo shorts, and my pride and joy: steel-toe boots I somehow managed to cajole my parents into letting me own.

I caught the bus to the open-air war memorial park where the gig was going to be. I got there at 4pm, 4 hours early. A couple other maggots were already hanging around. I found myself surrounded by tombstones, and I read them all. It was the middle of the Hungry Ghost Festival, too - a very fitting time for Slipknot to pay a visit to this godforsaken hellhole of a small town I lived in. (Especially given the paranormal circumstances surrounding the making of Vol. 3.)

While I wandered around the venue (no security or sound guys were around at all), I spotted two white vans pull up to the stage, in the middle of a clearing. It was them! I spotted Joey and missed him by a hair's breadth. I was quickly ushered behind the stone archway entrance by security then.

(Funnily enough, while walking around, I got mistaken for Joey more than once. I am the same height as him, had the same long black hair, same pale skin, and was wearing almost exactly what he had been. One person claimed from behind, I was a dead ringer, apart from when I turned around, and they realised I was Chinese.)

It was soundcheck time. A sound guy testing the mics would say random things, like "testing one two three two one.... fudge fudge, I like fudge...." The band even did Purity, so us earlybirds were given a rare treat, and we screamed along from the entrance, and drummed our fists on the sides of nearby porta-potties. I hope no one was in there at the time. Whenever we got a glance of any of them, we'd scream and cheer. Finally they left again, but were soon to return.

This was the first time I'd been a part of the metal community. I was barely allowed internet in those days. But here, random strangers were friendly, striking up conversations like they'd been friends for years. Two big guys, called Trevor and Ted, looked out for me the entire gig after, keeping other big dudes from crushing me too much (I'm 5'3, remember). Other people commented on me being so baby, because I was only 14, and said they would take care of me.

When we were finally let in, right after the usher cut the rope, I ran in, screamed "WOOOHOOO!" along with a few friends I'd made. I only briefly stopped to receive this RoadRunner Records compilation CD from a roadie, then resumed running like a madman screaming and dashing into the VIP cage.

I was right up against the barricade - the first time I would ever be at a gig. People from assorted magazines and press took photos of us, and I think I got my photo taken about 10 times at least.

(This is how I got in trouble with my parents the next day. My photo had ended up in a local paper - you can see examples of that here. They had no idea what I'd been to see the night before, and were horrified when they saw what Slipknot looked like.)

We saw Sid filming us from the stage with a camcorder and screamed at him. We saw Jim and screamed at him too, and he flashed the victory sign back at us. I remember Metallica playing at the time, another one of my favourite bands.

The concert was a brutal religious experience I will never forget. People with their arms outstretched, crying and screaming out loud, moving like the devil possessed them.

The new friends around me made sure I was alright after every song! There were huge guys fainting behind us who had to get carried out, but I endured, a tiny 14 year old child. We got a family speech as per tradition, of course. "Are you guys out there all looking out for each other? We're all one big family, and we gotta look out for each other." What Corey said held true - strangers hugged, shook hands, talked, and made friends. I was heartened by how close-knit the maggot community was. It really did feel like a family, and it's felt like that ever since.

Of course, I did my first Jump The Fuck Up. It is possibly the most euphoria I've ever experienced all at one go. (Later, in 2020, I was extremely disappointed that I didn't get to do it again in London.)

They did the death masks for Vermilion, and I remember Chris helping Sid fix his mask and shirt when they'd changed back. Sid hung out near Clown's drums for most of the time too, and hugged him from behind and just latched on at one point. It was pretty adorable.

Fun fact: The version of Eyeless you hear on the 9.0 Live album is from Singapore, as is Eeyore. There are very few photos and videos from the crowd of this gig, because in 2005, very few people had camera phones. The crowd at the Slipknot gig in 2020 was a sea of arms with phones, filming the gig rather than experiencing it. Yes, I'm going to be that cranky old geezer who complains about the good old days.

Joey as usual, was fucking amazing and never failed. However, due to the fact that I was right up front, only his tiny head was visible behind his vast drum set, I couldn't see him the entire gig.

Amazingly, the government told Slipknot they were not allowed to do obscene gestures, curse, vomit (possibly due to the decomposing crow pre-show ritual), simulate humping on objects, throw faeces, or jump off stage (looking at you, Sid). I don't think our totalitarian government knew who they were dealing with, because watch what happens next.

Near the end of the gig, Corey tells the crowd “your government has given us a laundry list of things we aren’t allowed to do, your government has told us we are not allowed to swear”. Crowd goes “BOOOOOOOOO” and Corey goes “BUT WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK!!” And they launch into Surfacing, the last song. Everyone riots. Best night of my life.

You can find the setlist from that gig here. It had everything I wanted and more.

This story later got immortalised when Kerrang asked maggots for gig stories, for an article which came out in 2020. I had forgotten entirely, until people began messaging me to tell me, and one friend sent me a scan of it!

On the way out, I managed to get a shirt. I remember calling my best friend at the time, and got everyone at the merch booth to go "IF YOU'RE 555 THEN I'M 666" for her. This shirt has since been lost to the landfill, because my Christian mother took it upon herself to dispose of it the first opportunity she got. Needless to say, our relationship is not very good.

After that, I even managed to get that Roadrunner compilation album they were giving out signed. The band was staying at the Carlton. Unfortunately, Joey wasn't there, neither was Clown, and Mick was swarmed by guitar nerds so, 6/9 it is. It is a great regret of mine that I'll never have anything signed by him, nor will I ever get to see him perform ever again.

The next day, I went to school, my head swimming. Yes, I went to see Slipknot ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. I was a giant bruise, from my ribs and my chest, to my hips and knees, from being slammed into the barricade like a screen door in a hurricane. Most of all, my sore, headbanged-out neck could barely hold my head up. Classmates thought I had been in a fight. I was torn between battle-scarred exhaustion and hyperactive ranting about the most amazing gig of my short life (it still is, to this day). When teachers spoke to me, I wanted to reply, "Fuck trigonometry! I've just seen SLIPKNOT. Do you not understand that my world is different? Do you not understand that *I* am now different?"

My country was a small, conservative town that Slipknot had graced with their unholy presence. Corey Taylor once said that where he grew up in Iowa had a way of making a 16 year old boy feel like a 36 year old man (or something to that effect). I felt that in my weary bones as a teenager, being from a place just like that. Years later, Watain would run into worse trouble, and wouldn't even be allowed to perform. The Christian stranglehold is stronger than ever. It was a good thing that back then Slipknot had the element of surprise, striking serpent-fast and choking this society by the neck for a too-brief time, before they departed.

After that, my desire to play the drums only grew like a weed. Joey Jordison had, has, and will always inspire me as a drummer, and seeing the beast live (or what little I could spy behind the massive riser) had only spurred me on. I had always been a noisemaker, be it driving my parents mad with chopsticks on pots and pans, or driving my teachers mad with pencils on my desk. But of course, my parents wouldn't have any of it. I'd have to wait a good 14 more years before I'd be able to afford lessons and later, a kit of my own. Better late than never, right?

There will never be enough words to describe the impact Joey has had on my life. And it isn't just Slipknot, either. I could write another essay on his time with the Murderdolls and its influence on my own gender-non-conforming ways. Suffice to say, my wardrobe doesn't look too dissimilar to his during the early Dead in Hollywood days.

I told my boss I could not come into work today. I was grieving. I said that my music teacher died, as I didn't think she'd understand the magnitude of my loss. In a way, it's true. And I am not the only one Joey has nudged on the path to being a musician, that much is certain. To the rest of us, I wish strength and love for you in this difficult time. The best way to honour Joey, who truly loved music, both the creation and appreciation of it, is to pass that gift on. Teach it to someone. He is the reason I picked up the sticks in the first place, and one day, they'll be handed on, the heavy metal baton for the next generation.

And finally: remember that the ones we have lost are never truly gone.

Vinnie

P.S. See if you can spot me in the crowd photos in this post!

[tbhimnoteasyonmyself]

Are you alright love?🥺 Read your tags, just checking if you want to talk about it? If not, no problem, just sending you alllll the hugs in the world💞💗💜

Hello, Liyah, my light, how are you? 🥰

Thx for checking on me, it means the world 🥺🤍.

And yeah, I'm fine now. It's just a frustrating story.

I used to have very strong acne when I was young. Like, right as puberty hit me at 11 or 12. And I LOVED to pop them. Because I was a kid and the popping was very satisfying. The problem was: you should NEVER pop them because it can spread germs and stuff all over yourself and it can infect and it just generally makes everything worse.

So, when I was 14, we consulted to find a solution so that my stupid ass wouldn't destroy my face. The solution found was that I should go on birth control. A VERY STRONG ONE. The thing we didn't know, besides all the very dangerous side effects of birth control that that pill in specific increased, was that I (or anyone really) was only supposed, for safety reasons, to take it for 6 months. Instead, I took it for 5 FUCKING YEARS. And my doctor DID NOT FLINCH in letting me take it for that long. Naturally, that had consequences.

So 2 years ago, I started having really strong periods with incredibly painful moments, especially on my right ovary. Of course, I went to the doctor. She was very difficult to talk to, did not fucking want to test me for anything or request any exams. It took her me NOT HAVING A PERIOD FOR 5 FUCKING MONTHS to finally accept something was deeply wrong and test me.

Unsurprisingly, I had a cyst on my right ovary. Her solution? "Let it pass, it'll go away". Spoiler: it didn't. After 1 year suffering and complaining while nothing being done, I checked a different doctor who figured out the cause was probably my birth control. Shocking, I know. So she told me to get out of birth control. The thing is: you can't just stop taking it. Especially one that's so strong. But because the pills were prescribed by my public doctor I needed her approval for it and also for her to support me through the process.

Needless to say, she wasn't happy and didn't want to "because what if I got pregnant". Ah, yes, because that was TOTALLY the first order of business in that moment when I had been almost 7 months without a period and was suffering from immense pain because of a literal ball of evil inside me. Sure, yeah, that makes sense. So I threatened her with a lawsuit. Hence, I am now out of birth control. And, consequentially, out of cyst. It vanished in 2 months and my period's back to normal (and way less heavy and painful).

I also asked her to check my fertility (not that I care cause I don't ever want to be pregnant but just because I wanted to make sure so that my complaint about her was accurate) and the exams came out positive, I can still get pregnant and all seems normal and regulated.

But it was a struggle. It was more than a year of pain because people prescribe and recommend birth control for no reason or in incorrect ways. I'm not a woman, of course, but society def sees it that way and I can't help but just correlate this with how careless society and the medical industry are towards women. It's like it doesn't matter what happens to them. Especially when the beneficiary here (because heteronormativity, of course) are men, who can have unprotected sex and not father a child, regardless if the woman has a fucking cyst and feels like dying for a week every month or not. Absolutely heartless. Women are worth nothing in our world.

Anyways... Hugs to you too and thx for always being so nice and caring for my issues. It truly means a lot. 🥰💜 I hope you know that if you ever need someone to vent to or just to talk to I'm here for you as well. All the love 💜💜💜.

[clearlyshyobservation]

Kokichi is dying (V3 chatfic, no particular ship)

TW: Infers abuse, talks about ableism, neglect, panic attack pretty much, depression, self loathing. never being good enough

i am so sorry but vr au's need to be sad, love yall :)

(Background info: This is set in a vr au, they are not with their fake memory parents (Ie; kaito's kind grandparents) but rather why they really have)

(Also i have no fucking clue what ship i was going for???? pretty sure they are all on the table, and kokichi talks like an idiot in this and i love it. Gonta's writing is based off of his Japanese talking style, so no more caveman talking).

USERNAMES:

(Space monkey: Kaito, Detective pikachu: shuichi, Elton john: kaede, Antman: gonta, Mr. Gonstealyoman: korekiyo, Atua's bitch: angie, emoboi: ryoma, be-boop: kiibo, bread roll: Maki, cum dumpster: miu, mommy: kirumi, Gremlin: Kokichi)

TLDR: Chaos ensues, slight angst

Gremlin: omfg im fucking sicK im gonna fucking die i bet this was kaitos bitch ass fault for coughing on me with his tuberculosis headass gROSSSSS I HATE EVERYTHINGGG

Space Monkey: i-

Space monkey: I didn't get you sick dumbass,,,, my tb is fugckin cured bi-

Bread roll: he's dramatic and gross dont believe him

Gremlin: yall mean for what?

Gremlin: i have a life taking disease and yall laughing i- 

Gremlin: see you at my funeral bitch

Detective pikachu: What are you sick with then

Gremlin: anythong bitch, im the universe

Antman: He sounds delusional, thats not good

Detective pikachu: He's always delusional, he's Kokichi

Mr. gonstealyoman: I guess this name is better than my old one

Mr. gonstealyoman: thank you kokichi :) I am glad we have come to an understanding

Gremlin: kay sexy

Gremlin: IGNRE WHAT I JUST SENT

Gremlin: IGNORE IT IGNORE IT IGNORE ITTTTT

Antman: who was that for???

Gremlin: NO ONE,,, 

Gremlin: Okay,,, maybe sexy tall men in general lowkey

Gremlin: okay,,,, maybe anyone over 6 feet 

Detective pikachu: i feel excluded

Detective pikachu: good, i don't like you kokichi, your an ass

Gremlin: u sound jelly shumaiiiiii

be-boop: perhaps he is telling the truth, you know,

be-boop: according to my data, in chapter four Shuichi stated that you will never have friends, and no one will ever like you

Gremlin: SHUT THE FUCK UP STOP MAKING ME FEEL BADBSKVKHDVKDSKJV

Antman: do you need me to come over? I can make you tea?

mommy: Do you know how to do that, Gonta? I can teach you?

Antman: Gonta does know, thank you very much. 

Antman: Gonta is not a child, Tojo-chan, please don't regard me as one

Antman: Gonta can cook, can clean, can be gentle, and has his own mind

Space monkey: but we're just making sure man, cuz, you know,,,, chapter 4

Antman: I am capable of things just like you!!!!!

Antman: Gonta doesn't know why you guys treat me like a child :(

Gremlin: yeah, hot stuff over there is basically a prodigy homies

Antman: Gonta is dumb though, don't say that.

Antman: Gonta is no prodigy, in fact, he is below average in everything

Gremlin: Whats ur test scores bitch

Antman: Gonta got a 98 on my english test,, but i wanted a 100, which would make Gonta actually smart :( 

Antman: Gonta is not good enough to be friends with you all

Antman: I can do basic stuff like tojo said...

Antman: maybe i do need help?

Antman: im not sure anymore:((((

Gremlin: THEY ARE ABLEIST GONTA,,, THEY FEEL SUPERIOR FOR TREATING UUUUU LIKE A CHILD

Detective pikachu: You sound really delusional Kokichi, maybe you should get sleep

Gremlin: S T F U, IM SPITTING ST8 FACTS BITCH

Detective pikachu: Sure you are. Now get some rest. 

Gremlin: GRRRR WHY WONT YOU LISTEN TO ME YOU IDIOTS??

Bread roll: Cause your stupid and aggressive

Gremlin: your personality, basically?

Bread roll: shut up at least i have a boyfriend

Gremlin: Technically, you just stole my frienemy 

Gremlin: Yall do be avoiding each other doe

Space Monkey: WE ARE NOT

Gremlin: Yeah yeah

Gremlin: yesterday i saw you to enter the same cafe by accident, duck your heads, then sit across the cafe from each other, all while  avoiding eye contact

Gremlin: Soooo,,, things not going well in paradise?

Detective pikachu: you're nosy

Gremlin: says the literal detective 

Space monkey: everythings fine your just a dickkkk

Gremlin: "oooo! Im momo-chan, i say bad word and go brrrrr"

Space monkey: im going to fucking stab him 

Gremlin: You cant, ive already enslaved you with my chaotic, yet cute hijinks, havent i~

Space monkey: STOP STOP NO NOT THE SQUIGLY

Gremlin: is it the sex? WHY DONT YOU MAKE EYE CNOTACT WITH UR LADY NO MORE 

Space monkey: ITS NOT THE SEX I HATE YOU

Gremlin: im free by the way at 8 ;)

Bread roll: STOP trying to steal my boyfriend kokichi, ive told you this before

Bread roll: NO

Bread roll: BODY

Antman: Gonta interrupts to say, Gonta loves you kokichi, and we should get flowers together, than maybe we can prank some people :D 

Bread roll: Ive never wanted to stab you more, gonta

Gremlin: I'd enjoy that very much, fine fellow ;)

Gremlin: but idk,,,, can you like take care of me first, cuz IM SICK BECAUSE OF KAITO TUBERCULOSIS ASS

Space monkey: I DONT HAVE TB ANYMORE

Gremlin: SURE YOU DONT 

Space monkey: I DONT

Gremlin:  BUT GUESS WHAT

Gremlin: YOU STILL SMOKE DUMBASS AND THATS NOT GOOD FOR U OR YOUR TUBERCULOSIS

Detective pikachu: He smokes?

Atua's bitch: he does, i walked in on him in the bathroom lmao

Atua's bitch: he was scared shitless and threw it out the window, needless to say atua does nt approve

Gremlin: DO YOU EVEN HAVE THE VACCINE????

Space monkey: Uh,,, i was taught vaccines were bad, so no i don't have the vaccine

Gremlin: I HATE OLD PEOPLE

Gremlin: ABOLISH OLD PEOPLEEEE

Gremlin: THEY SPREAD MISINFORMATION AND IT PHISCALLY HURTS ME TO SEEEEEE

Space monkey: your dramatic, it cant be that bad

Gremlin: say that when you catch it again

Gremlin: i swear you coughed on me like,,,, 5 weeks ago tho

Antman: OOOO! Fun fact: Tuberculosis can lay dormant from 3 months to a few years! 

Space monkey: u guys are just trying to scare me

Bread roll: Just checked the chat after using the br and,,m YOUDONT HAVE YOU VACCINES???

Detective pikachu: Im sorry, but kaito, please,,,,, for the love of god get vaccines

Space monkey: alright alright, ill do it cuz you guys are all on my case and i don't like being the villain :(

Gremlin: Im so happy i have gonta with me rn, he is making me tea while yall rot in your distant ass relationship (THIS IS FOR YOU KAITO)

Space monkey: Im going to destroy your bloodline in about three seconds if you dont stfu right fucking now

Gremlin: Hhehe i have an inaprwopwiate joke uwu

emoboi: STOP PLEASE DEAR GOD

cum dumpster: wHAt Is iT YOU WHORE

Gremlin: i was gonna say wouldn't he need to like,,,, have sex with my family to weed out my bloodline or something??

cum dumpster: i-

cum dumpster: Why am i acting surprised, ive watched porn with more extravagant plots than this

cum dumpster: ie; are you guys FUCKING? RIGHT INFRONT OF MY SALAD??? is one i will cherish with my soul

emoboi: hehe why did she point out the salad

Space monkey: I hate u kokichi, i truly do

Gremlin: I bet if you got the chance u would kiss me space boy :P

Bread roll has left the chat

Space monkey: o god is she ddoing one of those bf loyalty tests or smthing???

Space monkey: now im nervous lmao

Gremlin: why you so nervous stupid~~~~

Gremlin: It not like ur cheating on her homie

Space monkey: It's just a placebo effect

Gremlin: My brain feels fried Momo-chan,, i don't understand big boy words right now

Space monkey: Basically, if you take a pill that doesn't do anything but you don't know that and believe it does, you will scientifically start to feel better

Gremlin: first and only time saying this, but thank you 

Space monkey: HEHEHEB YOU SAID THANK YOU YOU SAID THANK YOUYOU SAID THANK YOUYOU SAID THANK YOUYOU SAID THANK YOU

Gremlin: Kaito,,, imma need you to do me a favor and look up on your ceiling

Space monkey: i hate you, idk what it is, but i hte you

Gremlin: good <3

Space monkey: HE REPLACED ALL MY THE STARS ON MY CELING WITH FUCKIBG DICKSSS

Space monkey: THIS IS THE LST FUCKING STRAW IM GONNA LOSE IT

Space monkey: IF MY GRANDPARENTS SEE THIS BULLSHIT THEY ARE GOING TO KILL ME, SLAP ME, MAYBE BREAK MY NECK AND DESTROY MEE

Space monkey: Im GENUINLEY panicing HOW TF am i gona get this off my wal???? They are going to bbat me senselpess help me shUichi

Detective pikachu: o god, i can sense the sheer pain and scaredness in  that tet, 

Detective pikachu: are you for real gong to get hurt or are you pulling a kokichi?

Space monkey: FUCKING HELP ME IM NOT FUCKING JOKINGKABKCB HELP THEY ARE NOT HOME RN THEY ARE LIKEE,,,, 40 MINUTES AWAY PLEASEE 

Gremlin: okay,,, maybe this wasn't the best prank.,,, i guess i'll help clean up cuz im not that much of a sociopath

Gremlin: tbh my parents can go shove it too lowkey terrible 0/10 

Space monkey: AHHHH IM SO SCARED PLS PSL GET HERE FAST

be-boop: Of course, i will come, i will survey the outside of the house

Antman: Gonta is coming too! We will get this done in under 40 minutes!

Space monkey: OKAY

Gremlin: Lowkey, if i cough on you ignore it bitch your the one who made me like this

Space monkey: W HA TDONT COUGH ON ME IM NOT SICK ANYMORE

Gremlin: I will give you TB again just cuz your making me suffer

Space monkey: Suffer what??? putting dicks on my FUCKING WALL???

Gremlin: Guilt, idiot, im feeling guilty. 

cum dumpster: oof thats new

emoboi: yeah i wasn't expecting it

Mr.gonstealyoman: Me neither. It is rather peculiar seeing it being texted by him because he is always feels not guilty of his bad actions.

be-boop: I do believe he means it, though...

emoboi: impossible.

cum dumpster: i agree, literally impossible.

Gremlin: I HAVE A FUCKIBG SOUL YOU CRazY CONSPIRACISTS

Antman: Quick question, shuichi can i stay with you again? It'll be dark when i get home and gonta can't do that so,,, please help

Detective pikachu: my parents are like blank slates, who eat slowly, watch tv slowly, and never look at me. Im sure they wouldn't mind :P

Antman: ALRIGHT! :D LETS GET MISSION: MR. MOMOTA ROOM REPAIR DONE!

Gremlin: ooo! I like the name! IM INNNN! 

Detective pikachu: On it!

be-boop: Ready for look out!

Space monkey: I love you guys :)

AN: Im lowkey sorry i ended this chaotic mess with angst,,,, but like fr i love it i love angst,, i hate reading it but love writing it

[vampiresuns]

Of Birthdays and Broken Music Boxes | For Valhallanrose

✴︎ OF BIRTHDAYS AND BROKEN MUSIC BOXES ✴︎

1.2k words. In which it’s Tamryn’s birthday and Anatole asks him out.

Tamryn, whose birthday is today, belongs to @valhallanrose​, as does his sister Zelda. Happy birthday to the boy and merry jemmaverse to us.

There’s some background mentions of Zelparo. Only potential cw is mentions of height.

The song from the music box is supposed to be Tchaikovsky’s Valse Sentimentale, Op. 5, n. 6.

“You do understand Tamryn is the one who’s blind, right?”

Anatole put down his cup of coffee a little too loudly. “What is that supposed to even mean, Zelda?”

“Means I’m the one who has to sit here and suffer while you do goo-goo eyes at him while he does that fucking soliloquy,” Zelda raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of tea with an abnormal amount of judgement in the action. “He’s oblivious but I’m sure not.”

“I’m just excited to meet people who are passionate about things they like! Everyone’s dramatic in my family, I just think it’s endearing!”

What he didn’t say was that Tamryn was funny, in his opinion. He was funny, interesting, he liked how he concentrated when he fixed something, and while Magnus freaked him out, the rise in his pulse wasn’t just because there was an entire peregrine falcon in his vicinity. It was also out of the way Tamryn put his hand on his shoulder and assured him it was alright.

He was awkwardly charming, making Anatole smile to himself, in spite of himself. Though he kept insisting he didn’t make goo-goo eyes and that Zelda was no better, given how things have gone down with Amparo.

Zelda had moved onto listening to the origins of his self-proclaimed ‘rehabilitation from considering his friends��� older brothers’. An arbitrary rule, he was aware, but he was in the mood to make excuses and be thankful Tamryn was not around. Or so he thought. He was proved wrong by him walking into the kitchen shirtless, without realising Zelda and himself were talking about him.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

The older he got, the older playing cat-and-mouse with his own feelings got. Not only has he gotten better at dealing with vulnerability with age and time, but he’s also bloomed into his self. As someone who cannot help being himself, and as someone who did not do things half-way, Anatole eventually grew tired of his own indecision and his own anxieties. 

Of course, he couldn’t just will them away, but he supposed branching out and just trying to test the waters couldn’t be that bad. Despite everything, he was sure of himself and he knew he had every right to be. He’s competent, intelligent, well-read, funny, a bit weird but nothing which didn’t add to the charm, passionate, dedicated, a good friend, stubborn beyond recognition, but wasn’t that the nature of both water and the Sun? He’ll be fine; whatever gut churning feeling which said otherwise could go take a walk. 

If he listened to those every time they decided to rear their heads he’d be nowhere. Is he nowhere? No. He’s come a long way, and he’d go even beyond just because he could. Trust Anatole to find something which acted as a way to tell him that perhaps he can’t do something for his spite to drive him to do that thing twice. 

 It’s always been a little harder for him when he discovered himself falling into someone in time, for who they were. He’s been at this same place before, however, so he thought he had learnt a thing or two about it.

Anatole knew Tamryn’s birthday would be soon enough. A birthday present was essential. Wanting to give him a gift with some thought behind it, he separated different blocks of time, on different days, so he’d have enough time to scavenge around for a gift. 

The lucky choice came from a music box store in Centre City. He had been looking for a kit to ensemble a music box, and if that failed, he’d ask Nadia with help to pick the pieces to do the same with a clock. Or a pocket watch, whichever was easier to get by as the last day of February and the first of March came by. 

The store had had no such kits, but it did have a broken music box which the owner had imported from a city on the northern side of the Clouded Mountains. 

“It came broken, and I haven’t gotten around to do the repairs, Consul. I apologise.” 

Anatole took the box in his hands. With his thumb he followed the hand-painted patterns on its front. “Which song does it play?” 

The purveyor told him, a light heat coming to Anatole’s cheeks upon discovering it was one of his favourites. A ¾ time signature slow piece from a composer from a Country beyond the Strait of Seals. 

“Lucky me,” Anatole said, “are the pieces to fix it hard to come by?” 

“No, at all. Despite how far away the little box comes, it doesn’t use very unorthodox methods — and, of course, needless to say I am more than willing to fix it for you, Consul Rad—“ 

“Oh, please. You are very generous, my friend, but you needn’t. I want it broken. It’s a gift for someone who likes to tinker around and repair things. It would have all the more meaning.” 

“I didn’t know you had tinkering fans in your family.” 

Anatole let the purveyor be wrong.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

He wrapped the gift himself in Mulberry paper. The bow was made with velvet ribbon and had a couple of loops. He did a second bow with an organza ribbon — Tamryn wasn’t going to be able to see it, but he would be able to touch it. 

The music box itself did not have any texture. The paint had been polished and lacquered over it, but Anatole didn’t mind having to describe it for Tamryn. Inside the box, he had located a pouch with the missing pieces. The music box shop owner had provided them for him. 

As he described it for Tamryn, told him where it came from, the music it was supposed to play and that it was broken, Anatole took in his face and the ways his hands moved over it. His joyful expression, the way his lips curved. His hitched breath and the amazement as he explored his gift. 

“The music piece is one of my favourites. I don’t have anything to play it for you, but I picked it because I would want to listen to it, if you’d want to… You can change the part that plays music for another one of course—“ 

Tamryn replied on impulse. “I could literally kiss you right now.” 

Anatole choked on air.

“Would you prefer a no-kissing thank you?” He shifted his weight between his feet.

“Actually… and I say this outside of the context of this gift and your birthday. Do you want to go on a date with me, Tamryn?” 

He turned to him, mouth slightly ajar. Silence settled for long seconds between them. When the shoe didn’t drop, Tamryn said: 

“Wait, seriously? Why?” 

Anatole would ease into finding his surprise funny if he wasn’t so nervous himself.

“Should I take that as a no?” 

“No, no!” Tamryn said, leaving the music box aside. “I respect your decision and I wholeheartedly accept, but are you sure?” 

“Yes— which is why I asked. Are you about saying yes?” 

“I just don’t get it.” 

“Why not?” Anatole asked with a smile in his voice. Tamryn was very cute when he flustered, and his enthusiasm had placated some of his nerves.

“I’m just always confused about why would anyone ask me out, let alone someone as interesting as you.” 

Silence fell between them again. Anatole let out a soft ‘oh’, followed by a heartfelt, bubbling laugh. 

“Tamryn, lean down a bit.” 

He obliged. Anatole tiptoed to kiss his cheek, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Happy birthday. Are you free next Friday? Around 5-ish? I think I have an idea.” 

[reactingwithexo]

Bonnie & Clyde (8) - Baekhyun

Part 1/ 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Summary: “Bonnie & Clyde. One night”

genre: mafia/gang au!, angst, fluff sometimes, smut

warnings: filthy smut(again), +18 , handcuffs, sligjt exhibitionism, orgasm denial i guess, a little bit of dominance, dirty talk, curses,etc.

word-count: 2.8K

A/N: Guys it is backkk, I swear next part will have more plot and won’t be another full smut but yeah... it’s not like you guys don’t like it anyways. Thank you so much for everyone who has shown support for this fic since the last part was posted, i’m truly grateful.

The rest of the trip went by very smoothly, you’d stop somewhere to sleep and grab food, then drive right when the sun was up the next night.

The mood was oddly good for two people who were running away from criminals and the police at the same time.

You still didn’t know exactly where you two were heading but the feeling that it was a trap was out of your chest by now, “why so quiet?” he asked you.

“I hm” you paused and decided to take the chance “don’t you think it’s time you tell me where exactly we are going? as in actually tell me”

“Okay...” he bit his lips to think how he would choose his next words “I guess it’s safer now that we’re close to the destination, don’t freak out ok?”

“I won’t freak out if there’s no reason t-”

“My grandma’s” he blurted out midway.

You frowned, you didn’t even know he had family “your grandma? b-but why?”

“I need to get something there” he turned to you and smiled “also i miss her, she’s a great cook”

You laughed at his remark “does she know about your....hm job?”

“Not really...but she’s really smart so I don’t doubt that she has found out someway”

“Aren’t you scared of that?”

He shook his head “She wouldn’t do anything to harm me, even if she found out I killed someone, she has always protected me for as long as she could”

“Hmm, I see you’re very affectionate of her” you examined his face as he concentrated “and not just for the food” you added.

“Yea” he smiled “I admire her a lot, she’s really taken care of me” he nodded his head.

Noticing a hint of sadness in him you combed his hair with your fingers “everything alright?”

“I just miss her that’s all, don’t worry” he took the hand you had on his hair and kissed it gently. You jokingly took his hand too and kissed it multiple times until it tickled.

“Ah ah, I’m driving you lunatic” he exclaimed while he laughed “let’s not cause an accident”

“What can I do?” you shifted closer to him “I can’t resist you” you whispered while bitting his earlobe jokingly. His hand went immediately to the place you had touched “ah seriously y/n..we won’t get there as quickly if you keep doing these things”

“Awww is someone sensitive?” you pouted at him as you saw his frustration build up “Can’t THE Byun Baekhyun take a little bit of teasing?”

He shook his head “y/n...stop”

“You’re not getting mad are you baek?” you asked with a cuter voice just to annoy him further on. You saw him grip the steering wheel tighter “I’m fine”

“Are you really?” you caressed his arm while asking to check how he’d react.

“Don’t test me baby” he mumbled but made sure you listened to it. “You don’t want me to take you here in this car again do you? There aren’t many empty streets around here, someone would see us, you don’t want that do you?”

“What if I do?”

He smirked at your answer and you could have sworn he slowed down the car for a little bit. “Don’t lie baby, you’re a good one, you wouldn’t”

“You’d be surprised” you furthered him on so he wouldn’t have the last word.

“Well in that case” he stopped the car in the next avaiable spot he found and turned to you. “Show me what you wanna do”

“What?” you looked at him in shock, the place you two were parked was full of people passing near you and you could see a gas station not that far. “Are you crazy? No way” 

He smirked at you “Where’s that confidence from moments ago?”

His expression only made you wanna punch his face and you rolled your eyes “seriously? how childish are you? just start the car again”

“Have I told you-” he gets closer to you “how cute you look when you’re angry?”

“Thanks, now let’s go, we have a schedule right? your grandma and all”

“You’re right let’s go” he started the car again “but I think we’re gonna have to make one more stop”

“Ah what is it now?” you asked still annoyed

“I need to take that pout out of your pretty face” he answered with his eyes focused on the road.

“Wh-what?” you weren’t able to hide the effect his words had on you, but you were still mad, how could he be so annoying but still so sexy to you? honestly you blamed your crazy hormones and his looks.

He asked to take your hand and kissed it gently as he has done earlier only this time he guided your hand to his crotch “Don’t think everything you say doesn’t have a consequence y/n”

You let out a tiny gasp and you swear to god you considered going down on him that exact second.“You’re so sensitive though” you tried to show you weren’t caring as much as you did. 

“It’s you” he mumbled and you two looked at each other for a second, you saw the glint of desire in his eyes and wanted him to just get to where he wanted to take you already so you could focus on him fully

He released your hand and you brought your fingers to your mouth so you could tease him further, needless to say it worked and he watched with a very pleased expression as you sucked two fingers while your eyes fixated on his.

Thankfully he didn’t get too caught up to forget he was driving and let out a laugh after smiling “you want to kill us both in all ways possible”

You let out a giggle as he turned to check you two somewhere you could stay the night or somewhere with a bed anyways. Apparently the destination really was pushed one more day ahead.

Can’t say you’re feeling too guilty, it was so nice and easy to be with him like this, without all this heavy background surrounding his history or your brother or the way you two met and crimes and running away from the police. It was just you and him, feeling crazy about one another in the midst of lust and giggles.

And that was an accurate description of how you two looked like right now stumbling upon the room, someone could say you were a drunk couple but truth was the only thing you two were getting drunk of were each other kisses and caresses.

“Now you” he kissed you with his hands holding your face and his body guiding you closer to the bed in every word he spoke “need to learn a lesson”

You both fell onto the bed and Baekhyun broke the kiss, he shushed you with his finger before you whined and said “I wanna try something, you tell me if you don’t like it ok princess?” you nodded in agreement and melted over his touch.

He detached his body from yours and reached for the bag he had been carrying the past few days since your “getaway”

You could tell he wanted to laugh but tried to keep the atmosphere also to check your reaction, he slowly took out a pair of handcuffs from the bag and played with it with his fingers before turning to you. “So what do you think?”

“Hmmm my instincts should say no but suprisingly all I am feeling is a big yes”

He smiled at your answer “glad to hear that, but not so fast, you can’t get what you want that easily just because now you’ve decided to be the good girl you are, what kind of lesson would that be? Afterall we have all night now that you’ve made me delay our first stop right?”

You pouted “you don’t have to be cruel though baek, I was just trying to distract you”

“That’s all you do, distract me” he got closer to you, handcuffs placed on the bedside table for now.

“With your perfect skin” he kissed all over your collarbones and unbuttoned your shirt “delicious smell” he inhaled near your neck as your shirt was gone and he moved his touches to your pants “soft lips” he pecked your lips and procceded to take off your pants, now leaving you a breathless mess in just your underwear.

You whined “not fair, you’re still all dressed”

“Go ahead and take my shirt off for me” he said and you eagerly went for it “that will be the last thing you’ll be able to touch for a while” 

He kissed your eagerly after you’ve taken his shirt off and it seemed like you two were trying to get as physically close to the other as possible. You enlaced fingers and he laid you down again, the nature of the gesture opposing his previous behavior.

Reaching for the handcuffs, he looked at you once again to make sure you were comfortable with the whole thing, when he got your reasurement, he rushed to cuff your wrists to the bed, making you on full display for him. 

Seeing him this excited about it made you even more turned on and you couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he’d do to you like this.

He stopped to admire you “fuck y/n, you look just beyond perfect right now”, he took off his pants and you saw how turned on he seemed through his underwear.

Noticing you were eyeing his hard on, he opted not to take off his shorts and instead he touched his dick above the fabric, releasing a moan and throwing his head back.

Your first reaction was to let out a little whine as your hips moved on their own in baekhyun’s direction. 

He seemed to enjoy your reaction even more than the pleasure he was giving himself “I might get addicted to your whines if you keep doing that princess”

“Please touch me” you pleaded and he smirked, he then didn’t seem to take much as well and took off his underwear, now touching himself directly, the moans only got louder and your mouth salivated, your eyes no knowing which part of the scene in front of you to focus on, your breaths only got heavier along with his, specially when you heard him mumble your name from time to time.

“I could keep coming all night like this while you watched, do you want that baby?”

You shook your head and whined a no “i want you inside me”

He ceased his hand movements and climbed back to you, his hands focused on undoing your bra at first, and his mouth attacking your nipples while his fingers caressed your breasts. That was already enough for you to release pleasured moans and you felt yourself ready for him. “Baek, please touch me more” you managed to get it out with the little breath you had.

Not figthing you this time, he cupped your pussy with hiis right hand and delighted himself in your reaction, with your legs opening more and your hips thrusting the air, he then placed his thumb on your clit and strarted making circle movements with it.

That was more than enough to make you even wetter and you were just dying to feel something inside you. Almost as if he sensed you’d request for that, he said “be patient baby, you’re doing so well, don’t want to spoil it by being to greedy hm?”

You nodded in distress and saw his little smirk as he got rid of your panties and slid one finger from your clit to your entrance, “you’re so wet fuck, makes me wanna skip to just feeling you around me”

“Yes please” you moaned eagerly at his idea but he just shook his head “nah ah, there we go again with this rush”, he entered his finger in you and didn’t take long to enter a second one “you’re so slippery, think you can take a third one?” he asked before entering a third finger and by this time your moans were almost turning into screams of pleasure.

He alternated between slowing down and then getting really fast with his movements, which made you incredibly frustrated, he was making sure you wouldn’t come right now regardless of how much you wanted it to.

“Don’t come yet” he warned before he took out his fingers, licked each of them clean and went straight to envelop you with his mouth, he held your hips down slightly so you wouldn’t thrust on his mouth as much and so you would have less chance of coming. “You taste so good, I could spend all day doing this”

You felt yourself shaking as much as you tried to held your orgasm, you could feel it approaching with all this stimulation.

Noticing that, Baekhyung distanced his mouth from you and stared at your fucked out state, this time you got to check his dick again and it seemed as if he was as desperate as you were “what should I do with you now?” he mumbled and took his dick on his hand again “ah you just don’t learn, instead of paying attention to the lesson I am trying to teach, you’re just lusting over dick”

“That’s because I really really really want it” you made sure to answer, thrusting your hips in the air in every ‘really’ you said.

“Ok” he nodded and continued “I’ll fuck you if you tell me what you’ve learned babygirl” he was eye to eye to you “hmm i shouldn’t distract you so much?”

“Yes good, what else?”

“I shouln’t doubt you..”

“And... what got us here?”

You thought hard until you remembered what exactly got you two there.

“I shouldn’t promise things I can’t keep?”

“Really good, seems you payed attention to some things at least, things will be way easier to you if you just don’t insist on challenging me baby”

You wanted to get that stupid smirk out of his face so bad but you were so turned on your brain was clouded with other thoughts, he then whispered in your ear “now I’m gonna fuck that little pussy, is that what you wanted?” he teased with his dick on your entrance “fuck yes”, you almost screamed back at him from so much built up frustration.

You saw him discretly put on a condom and proceeding to tease you again.

It seemed as if you were both almost there when he entered you fully, you felt youself involuntarily clenching around his dick and he released grunts from trying to fight the sensation and move.

Eventually he did start moving faster and you felt your bodies hit the bed harder as he increased his pace inside you. 

From both your moans the only thing that was heard were a mixture of incomprehensive words, each other’s names and curses.

As you were both getting closer to your highs, he managed to uncuff your wrists just so he could enlace your fingers with his as he did earlier, you were in the verge of coming when he urged you on by giving deep kisses to your neck, the last thing you heard before coming was him saying “look at me when you come”.

And you did. Seeing his lustful gaze so close and intense to you was what missed to make you come undone with his name on your lips.

Feeling you so tight around him and watching you come so beautifully to him was what he need to reach his high with grunts mixed with the sound of your name.

He laid next to you as you two breathed heavily, he turned to your side and asked “ is everytime we have sex gonna be like this?”

You frowned and asked him “like what? like you really do love me?” you mentioned as previous words he has said to you

“Not just that” he smiled “but like the best sex of my life”

“Well, it better be” you answered confidently which only made him laugh and suddenly attack you with sweet kisses everywhere he could reach “you’re such a brat” he mumbled while he held you closer.

You giggled at his affection and a feeling of happiness filled your chest, you never thought living a bonnie & clydish life, running away from both the police and the criminals could feel so peaceful and loveable.

A/N: Hope this is good enough for your expectations! Any feedback is welcome and I’m sorry it’s not really revised but it’s almost 2AM so bare with me.

[ijustneedtowhine]

I realized I don’t want to work, so I won’t.

I feel like I‘m going to be judged for what I’m about to say. But I’m going to say it anyway. I kind of always wanted to be a housewife. Let me start by saying, I hate the term, “housewife”. It sounds like I’m a human pet or something. But moving past the stupid word, I always pictured myself homemaking, married or not. In school, growing up, when we would have to say what we wanted to be when we grew up I never ever meant what I said. I could not for the life of me think of a job I ever wanted to do. It sounds “lazy” but I never wanted to do anything. Don’t get me wrong, there were things I liked to do. I was a very active kid. I did a million different clubs, stage crew and color guard all throughout high school. I enjoyed it all. But I would be lying if I didn’t say that the second I thought about those activities turning into jobs, I lost all interest. Something about turning my hobbies into means of production, swiftly sucked all the joy out of it. I realize now that it was weird we were being taught to aspire to become workers. I just have no interest in living my life that way (doesn’t mean I didn’t try though).

In the beginning I did try to force my round peg into some of the square holes provided by our capitalist society. I went straight to college after high school. My second year in, I decided to turn my hobby of stage crew into a career path. One very big thing ruined this for me. In order to take the classes I needed like; stage lighting, stage makeup, and the opportunity to work on the crew, I had to major in theatre and take all of the acting classes. YEAH. You read that right. I had to freaking act. I have ZERO interest in acting. Very much not my thing you guys. The program director's excuse was that we needed to understand what the actors did as well. These classes were some of the most uncomfortable times in my life and I really wish I had never done it. Needless to say. that only lasted one and a half semesters for me.

One thing I feel like I should inform you of is that 2 weeks before I dropped out of college, my big sister, my absolute favorite person in the world, passed away suddenly. She had small children and an ex unfit to take care of them. My family and I were dealing with custody fights and a new life no one in my family ever wanted. Looking back now I know that it was incredibly traumatic for everyone involved and played a huge roll in why I left school.

Another hobby I tried to turn into work was makeup and skincare. I went to beauty school right after I dropped out of college. You see, even though I was able to convince my parents to let me leave school, they still wanted me to be working towards a career of some sort. So I enrolled into beauty school not fully understanding what I was getting myself into. Like I said, I am only interested in makeup and skincare. But here, at my school you had to also learn to do hair. My naive 20 year old ass trusted the enrollment lady when she said that I wouldn’t have to do much hair and that the program was pretty evenly distributed. LIES. Hair was 90% of what we did there. I fucking hated it you guys. I of course liked certain parts of it. The material was interesting, the tests were a cake walk, I made some friends, and even dated a girl I met there for a short while. But when it came to graduating to the salon and doing real customers hair for 8 hours a day (before going to my job where I worked 5-6hrs a day 6 days a week I might add) I was fucking over it. This on top of my ever blooming anxiety was a real recipe for me to avoid, avoid, avoid. My attendance was piss poor by the end. I got kicked out because of this. I wasted $20,000 on something that turned into nothing and ruined my self esteem. I felt like such a loser for not being able to finish. I could not for the life of me understand why I couldn’t get myself out of bed and go. Why would I cry at the thought of having to walk through those doors? I knew I had to, but I physically couldn’t after a certain point. So after beauty school I just kept working a shit-ton. I got a retail management job that I was at for a couple of years. I liked it well enough. Management was fun and I was good at it. The day I put in my two weeks notice I walked into the back to put my stuff away and my store manager and district manager were there with balloons ready to surprise me with the good news that I was being promoted. That was a pretty awkward conversation to have needless to say lmao. And to be honest I only left because I wasn’t making anywhere near enough money.

 The job I left for is where I met my favorite person alive, my sweet husband. We were in the same department and we started talking when I was new and had no clue what I was doing. He would help me out when I needed it but was too stubborn to ask. We would stand around and talk when there wasn’t much work to be done. I could tell he was really kind and funny, so one day I just decided I didn’t want to stop talking to him. I offered him a ride home that morning (we worked overnight). We went to a park to watch the sun rise and we literally haven’t spent a day apart since. He’s truly the loveliest person I’ve ever known. I can confidently say our relationship is the only good thing that came out of my first couple of years of adulthood.

This job is where I hurt my back, Christmas 2019. I was working 7 days a week 12 hr shifts and I was fuuuckkinggg exhausted. I lifted something wrong and that was that. My back hasn't been the same since. I’ve gone to chiropractors and nothing helps. I can’t even do the dishwasher without having to take a break. So obviously I had to stop working there. I lasted until august 2020 though! I used a back brace and took lots of days off lol. At the end I just could not do it anymore. My last shift I spent the last three hours of  my shift crying in pain and taking breaks to sit every 5 minutes. I walked out the second my shift was over and never went back in. I felt like I was ripping my body apart. My now husband, then fiance, and I decided that I should look for something to let me sit. I did that. It sucked. Depression and anxiety got the best of me once again and I stopped going. I don't know what happens to my brain but it feels like it starts to attack me with words, fears and feelings of despair. I shut right the fuck down. I’m not strong enough to push through. And I don’t think that I have to be that strong. Once I had enough break downs about being too scared to leave the house my husband and I decided I would stay home as long as it takes me to get better, physically and mentally. I love him so much for being on board and understanding that I needed a break. 

It’s been a couple of months now and I’ve had a lot of time to try and connect the dots in this pattern of my life. I think that I spent a really long time fully convinced that being a housewife in this day and age was out of the question. Deep down I knew it was the only thing I could ever picture doing and being happy with. I loved organization, lists, cleaning, and cooking. Growing up I always felt really good about myself when I cleaned and organized my room. I would sit around and day dream about what my home would look like and how I would decorate it. But none of that mattered when I was being told that I should aspire to do a job and love it enough to do it until I’m in my 60s. Like what? I don’t love anything enough, besides my family, to do it for decades of my life. When I finally admitted to myself that taking care of a home and a family is truly what I aspire to do, the thing that feels like it gives my life meaning, I felt a sense of relief, and then quickly after, some anxiety. I started to get scared of what people would think of me. I know that there are a lot of feminists out there that actually understand the ideal of feminism. They would never down a woman that is doing exactly what she wants (as long as she isn’t hurting anyone). But on the other hand I have encountered so many people, men and women that are really nasty about women that are or aspire to be housewives. So many of the people I grew up with joked about people they didn’t like ending up bored housewives. I know I shouldn’t have but I laughed along. Knowing deep down in a locked away place, it was the only thing I pictured myself doing. I just don’t see what’s wrong with homemaking if that’s what you truly want. 

Finally, I’ve come to realize that I shouldn’t be ashamed of doing exactly what I want to do. It works for my husband and I, and that’s the only thing I should truly care about. I picked the side of things that felt like home. Like they fit. The part that brings me satisfaction, joy, and the space to move at my own pace.

[florencefallons]

Life and Stuff

August 10, 2020. The the first day of the most insane month of my life. Of course it would happen in 2020. I hope you’ll forgive me for using this platform as a means to get the thoughts jumbled around in my head out into a more organized form. I rarely ever even use this platform anymore. When I do, it’s to reblog pictures of Carol Burnett or Barbara Stanwyck. The occasional Emma Thompson photo. Never to sit down and spill out everything on my mind into what, very likely, will become a novella on its own.

I’m not a prolific speaker. I trip over my words. I say “um,” and “uh” a lot. My brain is moving at twice the speed of my mouth and my poor mouth can’t keep up. Therefore when I have things on my mind, like I do today, I can’t just talk about them. A) Who would I talk about it to? and B) Even if I had a place to talk about these thoughts, it would come out all jumbled up and I’d end up sounding totally ridiculous and having said nothing I wanted to actually say.

When it comes to expression, writing is where I’ve always excelled. Excelled is a strong word, but when you compare it to other forms of self expression, it’s the only form I am able to use proficiently. I don’t have a vlog or a youtube channel. I don’t have a blog that reaches people. I have no voice. No influence in this world. But I have this platform and it allows for posts like this, and for once, I’m going to use it.

As I said, August 10, 2020 was the first day of the most insane month of my life. More has happened to me in this one month span than has happened to me at any other time in my life...and you’re hearing from a person who was injured on the job and has had a fractured spine and 13 surgeries. I’ve been through some stuff. Nothing with the intensity and frequency this month has thrown it at me though. This month has resulted in seven major events that have deeply impacted my life in some way. Nobody is being forced to read this. In fact I expect most will see its length and scroll past it faster than a fundraising ad for Donald Trump. I do hope SOME of you will take the time to read it though. I’m mainly writing it for posterity. To have a place where this month is recorded, so I can come back someday and remember it. So, with that being said, here are the things that have happened (or are soon to happen) in this 1 month span. Listed in chronological order.

1) August 10, 2020. I was in my 2nd week of work at the new clinic our hospital opened. Working for the largest hospital and clinic system in the state, sometimes our clinics outgrow our ability to contain them. My job was in the neurology clinic. I worked as the nurse who took care of all the multiple sclerosis doctors and nurse practitioners, while answering all the patient questions, emails, and voicemails. We’re looking at about 2,500 patients on the generous side of the estimate. Needless to say, I was busy. It was said many times by coworkers, by the doctors I worked with, and--admittedly--by me, that the job was a two-person job. It was too much for one person to handle. I was drowning fast in a mountain of paperwork that needed to be filled out, messages that needed to be answered, phone calls that needed to be returned. I’d accomplish finishing, say 25% of the work, and 50% more work would come in. I was at the end of my rope. 

--Let me interject here by saying that, over the course of the 16 months I worked this job, I had to start seeing a psychiatrist, I had to start psychological therapy with a licensed therapist, and I was started on no less than 5 new psychiatric medications. Once the correct balance was found, I was reduced down to only 2, but regardless, I think this fact alone proves the point that the stress of the job was getting to me.--

I finally looked at the mountain of work in front of me and I broke. I set up a meeting with my boss, the director of nursing for all of the neuroscience service line (that covers 6 clinics). We met, and I told her “You told me to be open and honest, and to come to you whenever I have an issue.” She agreed. I went on to tell her that I was losing my mind. The workload was entirely too much to hold over one person and needed help. Desperately. I was constantly being interrupted by people needing help with this or that, which was fine. I don’t mind helping anyone, I love it...but it took away from the time I had to do my already overwhelming job. I may have cried some, I don’t remember. 

Her solution was probably the worst idea ever put forth, but I was so devastated and down and overwhelmed, I didn’t really even hear anything she said after I spoke my piece. Her suggestion was that, if our clinic was too hectic for me, I needed to transfer to the new clinic. It was an epilepsy clinic but we had 2 multiple sclerosis providers there too, so I could go there and be the MS nurse there. At that moment, that sounded like a great idea. Fewer people=less stress. Yeah, no. Once she sent me over there, she decided with me being there, they had no need to keep our patient care tech there. So she took her away and made her work at the main campus, where they have tons of patient care techs. That left me and another nurse who, due to a bad knee, did very little that tinvolved getting up off his ass and helping out with goings on in the clinic. He much preferred to sit in his fancy chair and delegate duties to me from there. I was younger, I was newer, and he was--in his mind--the charge nurse.

So, thus began the saga of my doing at the new clinic, the job that THREE DIFFERENT PEOPLE did at the main clinic. I was forced to triage (get into a patient room and go over everything to make sure it was up to date) every patient, draw labs on every patient, all while trying to do the job I was ACTUALLY hired for, which was answering phone calls and returning messages. Which was a full time job on its own. Needless to say, my “new’ duties took all that time away and all my stuff went unanswered. I kept getting harassed by patients and managers that stuff had been sitting waiting too long to be done. 

Mr. Charge nurse, from his chair he never left, didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. “It’s not that bad here” he’d say. Sure, if you never have to get up and do anything, but for me, it’s very hard. I have to do all the job of a PCT (getting paid nurses’ wages by the way) along with a job just as busy as the one you’re having to do. I’m expected to do as much if not more in the computer as you do, yet I never have time to touch it because I’m always triaging patients (half of which are YOURS) and drawing all the labs. Well of course he disagreed and said he helped and I was overreacting. By that he means he maybe got up once or twice a day because someone needed attention and I was still busy in another patient’s room.  My boss would berate me, asking why my inbox was sitting there so full and nothing was being done. 

“WHEN DO YOU WANT ME TO DO THESE THINGS *Insert her name here*??? I spend my entire day, I mean my ENTIRE day, doing the job of a PCT and you’re paying me to do the job of an RN. “Well, *insert his name* says he helps you.” That’s a damn lie and he knows it. He thinks that he’s the charge nurse, he’s older, and he has a bum knee (mind you I have my entire lower half of my spine fused so don’t give me that “I have hardware in my knee” bullshit. I’m full of titanium too. Fight me.) Well, help was refused, the other nurse was just told to try and help more and that he was not the charge nurse, that our clinic didn’t HAVE a charge nurse since there were only 2 of us. Well, he got so butthurt over that, he interviewed for a new job in the same building as our main clinic. He was offered the job. He was getting ready to give his notice and I was literally at the end of my sanity. So I turned in my notice to my manager on August 10, 2020. I told her I couldn’t keep doing the job of 3 people by myself and it was too much I was through. My doctors begged me to stay. She asked if I was sure that’s what I wanted. I said it wasn’t what I WANTED, but I can’t keep working like this. So I really don’t have a choice. “Well we don’t have the staff or money allocated to give you a tech if you’re over here.” So I shrugged, said I was giving her 4 weeks notice and I’d have to leave.

This was a Monday. On Wednesday, she came back and not only gave our tech back, she gave (*insert his name here*) everything he wanted, because she’d caught wind he was getting ready to leave too and she’d have no nurses at the clinic. I told her I’d retract my resignation if she would let us keep our patient care tech, because with her, I have time to actually do my job. She all but said “OK” and to give her a definite answer on Monday. So I did. Monday I told her I’d stay since we had adequate help. Well apparently she discussed thsi with her boss and came back at me with “Sorry, but all we can accommodate is an as needed position or you can extend your leave date and stay on full time until your replacement is hired and you can train them to make the transition easier.”

Are you freaking serious, bruh? “As needed” meaning “free reign to fire you with no consequences when we don’t want you anymore, plus all my benefits would be taken away.” Or, I could “stay and help train my replacement.” Are you out of your mind? Then what? Fuck off into the sunset, your job here is finished? I think I’ll take a hard pass on both those options. My last day will be September 4.

So, while going through all this I was being tested and was diagnosed with not one, but two life-altering disorders.

2) First, I was diagnosed with severe attention deficit disorder. I was told I’d actually had it my whole life based on testing and had never been evaluated or treated. This would have been the 1990s when this started, and I found out my parents were approached about the possibility I had ADD. I made excellent grades, but had major problems with impulse control and talking too much and paying attention. My parents dismissed this suggestion. They did not--and to this day still did not--believe ADD was a real diagnosis. They said ti was nothing more than kids who needed their asses beat and they’d learn to behave. I could not possibly be one of those hyperactive kids who suck in school and just all-around do poorly. I did too well in school. I was told to pay attention more and stop goofing off. I was threatened with spankings if I messed up. So I worked really hard to stop my impulses from taking over. And I did, some, but not always. I got punished quite a bit for things I did in school. Not on purpose, but it’s how I was. And now, as an adult, I was still struggling with impusle control and with paying attention. I still struggled in prioritizing tasks and organizing things. I could never figure out why my brain wouldn’t let me do those things. My PCP said I had ADD--he KNEW it--but I had to be diagnosed by a licensed psychotherapist. So I went and was diagnosed. And it changed my world. It was a lot to process, knowing what I went through as a kid and knowing the punishment I went through for something that was not my fault. I wasn’t abused, I wasn’t mistreated. If I’d been treated for ADD as a child though, I might not have just done well in school, I might have kicked ass. I might have been valedictorian rather than 6th in class to graduate. That was hard to swallow. Yet a relief at the same time.

3) Went to the sleep clinic and got a take-home sleep apnea study kit. It came back positive for sleep apnea. My oxygen was dropping to 70% at night, which is basically hypoxic, and the reason I’m probably so sleepy all the damn time. As soon as I get home from work and get settled, I fall asleep for at least an hour, maybe 2. I haven’t always done that. I used to have trouble sleeping to the point I needed Lunesta for help (although the taste was so bad I rarely took it).Sure enough, I need CPAP when I sleep to help keep my oxygen over 92%. They told me I’d feel better almost instantly. So I’m hoping to go see them next week about getting my machine. 

4) My friend’s little 4-year-old niece died. She was a special, miracle child who touched so many lives it’s insane. She was a beautiful soul. I never met her but her death affected me profoundly because her aunt posted so many photos and videos online. I felt like I lost one of my godchildren or something. It hurt. I can’t imagine what they are going through.

5) My uncle Jerry died. The day after the little girl I just mentioned. I can’t even attend HIS funeral due to COVID and the risk of contamination. My mom is  on a chemo drug for an autoimmune disease that destroys her immune system. So we’re trapped away from everyone (if I want to see my mom that is). 

6) My last day of my job was today, September 4, 2020. It finally came, my time there is done. 16 months of hard work down the toilet. Because of poor management, shitty leadership, lack of care or respect for employees, etc. I offered to stay, but my offer was rejected as it was given. It just served to remind me I made the right decision, even if it was a bit rash. Several others have quit or gotten fired so staffing will be interesting. My old “charge nurse” is about to learn what getting off your broad butt and helping is all about now. They aren’t sending him ANY nurses to help him next week. I’ll be honest, I hope the whole thing blows up in (insert name here)’s (my director’s) face. she is trying to run the neuro clinic like she runs her other clinic--which is TOTALLY DIFFERENT. I thought she’d be good for the clinic, turns out she wants to get rikd of EVREYONE who has FMLA-Anyone who has permission to be off work without fear of repercussions. She wants a bunch of “as needed” staff so she doesn’t have to hire full time people, she doesn’t have to pay anyone benefits, and she can get rid of them whenever she likes “your as needed position is no longer needed,” without going through all the bullcrap red tape the state puts you through to fire anyone. Anyway, bottom line, today was my last day at a job that--the job itself--I loved. The patients I loved, the doctors and nurses I loved, and my coworkers I loved. I have never left a job I loved. It was 100% management. My main doctor, the medical director of the service line, did not want me to leave and keeps asking me to say. I had to explain to him I tried, but they refused. Broke my heart. He’d take me back in a minute though, if the situation at the clinic ever changes. I hope it does. He was the most brilliant, kind, generous, respectful, patient, and dedicated man I’ve ever met. He taught me a lot. I’ll take a lot of what I learned from him with me wherever I go.

7) The final thing has not happened just yet, but it will be very soon and I’m already dealing with it. So September 7 is the 1 year anniversary of the death of my best friend. I still miss her like it was yesterday. Time has, as they say, healed some of the wound, but not all. Every now and then I get slammed with the realization she’s gone. I’ll never see her again. Talk to her. Hug her. Laugh with her. Ever. Again. And I cry and suffer with it all over again. That is happening less frequently, but it has picked up again now that 1 year is approaching. I can’t believe it. My best friend has been dead for 1 year. The 1 year anniversary of the last time we spoke was August 20. It hurts so much. But slowly, over this year, I’ve started dreading getting up in the morning a little less, I can breathe again, a little. I can laugh again without feeling guilty about it. I’ve finally hit all the 1 year milestones with her death (well, as of 9/7). I’m going to her grave this weekend to place some special things I purchased in honor of her 1 year anniversary since her passing. Damn I miss her so much.

So, this month--this whole year technically--has been a lot to process. A lot to find out, a lot to digest, and a lot to grieve through. I keep thinking “it can’t possibly get any worse, maybe things will get better now” and it always does. That trend for 2020 doesn’t bode well with the election coming up. That makes me so nervous I feel sick. But I refuse to get political here. If you’ve stayed with it this far, you have tremendous stamina and I salute you. It’s taken me hours and several breaks to write thanks to my ADD and just being sleepy and falling asleep in the middle of typing. But that’s it, my month inside the year straight out of hell. 

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The Demons We Share

Tony Stark x Reader

Words: 2351

Summary: New York left both of you battered. Tony has nightmares and distracts himself with making suits while you try to keep your relationship together. Your relationship is put to the test when you are both taken and tortured by AIM.

Notes: This is kind of an AU situation within the context of Iron Man 3. I am going to be writing MANY MORE Iron Man/Tony Stark imagines, so get ready. (Also, since I don’t have the best memory, Killian’s motives are based on his Wiki page… I’m really trying guys, I swear)

Warnings: Various methods of torture (Not including Extremis, because I didn’t want to copy the third movie exactly, so if you were expecting that, I’m sorry! I might do it for another imagine)

-

It wasn’t your own nightmare that woke you. It was the trembling man beside you, clutching his pillow in fear of the visions plaguing his sleep. 

“Tony.” You gently tried to shake him awake. His breathing was heavy and he let out a whimper. “Tony.” You said again. You were jerked away from him and was blinded by a bright light. Tony woke up with a jolt and disabled the suit before it could hurt you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, cowering away from the metal contraption that could have blown your head off. 

“Are you okay?” Tony asked. 

“Am I okay?!” You shrieked. “What the hell, Tony?” You fell back against your pillow, your nightmare replaying in your head- that metal suit, crushed beneath an army of alien creatures. You took Tony's hand, taking a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s my fault.” He sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He ran his hand over his face, his entire body still slightly shaking. You moved towards him, wrapping your arms around his middle. You pressed your cheek against his back and felt his hands cover yours. 

“It’s going to be okay.” You whispered, feeling him take a deep breath. Making no response, he pulled away and disappeared down the dark hallway, leaving you alone with the metal mask mocking you from the floor. 

It had been this way ever since New York. The house was always quiet and the nightmares never stopped. While you and Tony had your own demons to face, there were some that you shared. The constant fear of what was to come. The thought of losing each other. Even now, after surviving the attack of an alien race, you felt like you were losing him. 

-

Work was worse than usual. Your desk was hidden by stacks of paperwork and your mind was still riddled with thoughts of the night before. Tony was still in the garage when you woke up that morning. He barely even looked at you when you brought him coffee. Perhaps the paperwork could be a distraction for you. 

You had barely made a dent when your secretary walked in with a vase full of flowers and a notecard. 

“This just arrived for you.” He gave you a smirk and set the flowers on the desk, handing you the note before exiting. With a smile growing on your face, you opened the note. Let me make it up to you: 6:00, our favorite restaurant. Your face was beaming by the time you finally got your work done at 5:00. That gave you a little time to stop by the house and pick out something nicer to wear. 

This was the first real date the two of you had been on since the battle and it felt like the first date all over again. You had butterflies in your stomach and your hands shook as you opened the restaurant door. 

“Reservations for Mr. Stark.” You informed the hostess. She gave you a polite smile and you followed her. The restaurant was almost completely empty, which was strange. Normally, 6:00 was the busiest time of the day. She lead you to a table next to the windows where an unfamiliar man awaited you. The hostess left before you could ask her if there was some mistake. 

“You must be confused, Miss Y/L/N.” The man stood to greet you. “My name is Aldrich Killian.” 

“You were at Stark Towers the other day.” You stated plainly, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. “You were bothering Pepper.” His smile tightened. 

“I was giving Miss Potts a business proposition.” He commented with the slightest bit of hostility in his voice. “But that’s not why we’re here. Please, sit.” He motioned to the chair in front of him as he sat down in his. You stayed as you were, growing more anxious by the second. 

“Tony will be expecting me at home.” You started to slowly back away, but you ran into something solid. The man behind you grabbed your arms from behind. 

“Mr. Stark is already in our care.” You struggled against the man holding you. 

“Let me go.” You demanded. He just smiled. 

“You’ll see each other soon.” The drug rushed into your bloodstream before you even felt the needle. You continued to fight until you collapsed back into that arms of the villain.

-

Tony was, needless to say, extremely pissed off. His wrists were raw and red from the handcuffs holding him up. He’d been cuffed to an old bed frame and was standing up, facing a man in a white suit and a curtain. 

“I was beginning to think we gave you too much.” The man smirked. Tony’s vision focused and he knew there was something familiar about him. “I have a proposition for you, Tony. One that the lovely Miss Potts was too busy to hear.” 

“What the hell am I doing here?” Tony scoffed. Even in cuffs, his sass was still uncontainable. “Wait… you’re that creep Killian that Pepper’s been talking about?” 

"Feel free to call me Aldrich.” He smiled cooly. “As to why you’re here, I hoped that with the right… persuasion, we will be able to come to an agreement." Following his words was the sound of a muffled cry. “Oh good, it seems like our other guest has woken up as well.” 

He pulled the curtain aside, revealing you, strapped down to a chair next to a table of various blades and needles. Your mouth was covered with duct tape, but the fear in your eyes told Tony enough. He pulled against his restraints. 

“I thought that might tug on those metal heartstrings of yours,” Killian smirked, tracing his finger up your arm. 

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Tony spat. Killian shook his head. 

“And here I thought we were all going to be friends.” He snapped his fingers and two men entered. You made a muffled comment and Killian ripped off the duct tape. “What was that, darling?” 

“I asked if the two cliche henchmen were really necessary.” You snarked. Killian’s smile tightened. 

“She’s got a mouth like yours, Tony.” He stood next to you, looming over you like a vulture. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” He grabbed one of the tools off of the table and grabbed you by the chin.

“I said leave her alone, Killian!” Tony shouted, pulling against the cuffs again. You clamped your mouth shut as he put the metal blade in front of your face. 

“I’m not usually one to do the dirty work, in these situations,” He mused, his eyes reflecting the silver knife menacingly. “But this is just too fun to resist.” He dragged the knife across the flesh of your shoulder, digging it in deeply as you screamed. Tony was seething, watching the blood start to trail down your arm. 

“You brought me here to talk, Killian.” Tony couldn’t bear to watch, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Let’s talk.” Aldrich paused and set the knife back on the table, turning around with a smug smile on his face. 

“I thought you’d come around eventually.” He positioned himself between the two of you to block “But here’s the thing, Tony,” Killian sighed, “I’ve tried talking to you before. Years ago when all you saw was a crippled man who had nothing of interest to you. I don’t expect you to remember. But I doubt you’ll forget me now.” 

“I’m a prick, I get it.” Tony snapped. “But leave her out of this.” Killian shook his head. 

“You see, Tony, she’s a very important part of all this.” 

“Well, Very-Important-Part-Of-All-This would love it if these meatheads would get their grimy hands off of me.” You spat as Killian’s minions untied you and forced you to stand. 

“What exactly do you want, Killian?” Tony tried to look around him to see what his men were doing. 

“I want Stark Industries to team up with A.I.M. and start a war from which we can both profit from.” He spoke as if there was nothing morally wrong with what he was saying as if he'd asked Tony to lunch. 

“You want to what?” Tony gasped. 

“Don’t play dumb, Tony,” Killian growled. “Or Y/N will pay for it.” His goons forced you to kneel beside a small fountain. Looking down at your reflection, you could see the terror in your eyes. You didn’t need Killian’s villainess monologue to understand his plan for you. 

“Tony…” Your voice trembled. 

“I did a little research, Tony.” Killian put a hand on your shoulder, finally revealing you to Tony. “I found out the favorite method of torture of the men who took you back in Afghanistan.” He shoved you down into the water, holding your head under. 

“No!” Tony screamed, watching your body tremor and flail as you tried to fight back. But Killian was impossibly strong. “You’re a dead man, Killian! Do you hear me? A dead man.” Killian pulled you back up, leaving you choking and gasping for air. 

“Her life is in my hands, Tony.” His iron tight grip caused you to cry out, but you could hardly make a sound. 

“You’re dead.” He jerked his hands forward, seemingly reaching for Killian. It only took you a moment to realize what he was doing. The suit. 

“I can do it.” You blurted, still barely able to breathe. Tony looked at you with slight confusion. “I have almost as much control over the company as Tony. I can get you what you need.” Before Tony could question your sanity, the look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” He asked, making his voice as convincing as possible. You were stalling. 

“Let her talk.” Killian held up his hand to Tony and listened to you. 

“I have passwords… and I have, uh, access to a lot of the company’s money…” You didn’t actually think you would get this far, so your mind was reeling to find something convincing. You sighed. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this, I’ve got nothing.” A loud crash signaled your escape as a mechanical hand latched itself to Tony. 

“Stop him.” Killian said calmly, placing his hand on the back of your neck and leaning down so his lips were at your ear. “I’m going to enjoy this.” He spat, a searing heat spreading from his hand onto your skin as he forced your face back into the water. 

Tony fought as more pieces of the suit made their way into the room, allowing him to break free and blast away Killian’s henchmen. By the time he got to the bastard himself, Killian had run off and you weren’t moving. 

“It’s okay, honey, he’s gone now.” Tony knelt down beside you. You had been faking it so Aldrich would let you go. “Y/N?” He wasn’t sure why you weren’t getting up. “He’s gone, but we have to go after him. Come on, I need your help with this.” That’s when he saw the handprint burn on the back of your neck. 

He pulled you out of the water only for you to fall limply into his lap. Your eyes didn’t open.

“Come on, you can’t do this.” He gently laid you on the floor, tilting your head back. He took off the handpieces of the suit and started the chest compressions. Pepper made him learn CPR after he became Iron Man, knowing that this new title would put you in danger too. “Y/N, come on!” 

The seconds ticked by brutally and he kept going. This was his fault. He had to fix it. He couldn’t let go. 

You woke up with an abrupt cough and a lot of water in your lungs. Tony sighed with relief and pulled you into his arms. 

“Did he get away?” You wheezed. He put a hand on your cheek. 

“Not for long.” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “It doesn’t matter. Not right now.” Looking into his eyes, you could see them. The demons that haunted his dreams. You could feel your own forming inside your mind as your mind replayed those last moments before everything went dark. Even in Tony’s arms, you could feel the water fill your mouth and your throat, stinging your eyes and making your skin freeze despite the hand branding the back of your neck. You wondered if they would ever stop. 

-

Two Months Later

“I’m going to enjoy this.” Killian’s sick laugh filled your ears. The sound of Tony fighting was drowned out by the sound of your own screams before water flooded into you. You felt helpless, all of your kicking and throwing your arms around doing nothing to stop the monster of a man from killing you. 

Tony hadn’t slept at all, afraid of what he would see when he did. But your faint cries hurt more than anything his imagination could have conjured. Your body trembled with terror as you flailed your arms and legs at an invisible enemy. He slowly and carefully wrapped his arms around you, gently shaking you to try and wake you up. 

“It’s not real.” He whispered. You opened your eyes, fighting to get away from him until you realized where you were. You fell back onto the bed, letting Tony pull you into him so that you were lying on top of him with your head tucked under his chin. 

“Do they ever get easier?” You asked weakly. He took a deep breath. 

“Everybody has demons. We can learn to fight them as best we can, but they never truly go away.” He sighed. “I’m just sorry I created yours as well as mine.” You shook your head, slowly looking up at him. 

“You didn’t make them, Tony.” You kissed a spot on his jaw and held him as tightly as he held you. “These are just the demons we share.” And you would face them together.

[fanficsaremylifeline]

Hi. My name is Peter Parker. You might know me from such hits as “local idiot accidentally poisons himself” or “resident disaster human being gets his girlfriend lettuce, thinking it were flowers”. (Luckily, both these happenstances went over without too much of a hitch. But you probably already guessed that, otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell you all this, now would I?)

This is the story of another time I – albeit with the best intentions – really messed up.

It all started about ten days ago. I was at home, just minding my own business, when the doorbell rang, followed by my Aunt calling out: “Peter, you have visitors!”

After putting down my comic book, I walked out to the living room, to find Mr Captain America, Mr The Winter Soldier White Wolf and Mr Falcon standing there.

“Uhm hi.”

“Heya, Queens”, Mr America smiled. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah, Brooklyn”, I grinned back. “What brings you by?”

“We could do with your help on a mission.”

“What kind of mission are we talking about here?” Aunt May eyed the Avengers quite sternly, and it was almost funny to see the superheroes, that had fought in World War II shy back in fear. Totally understandable, though, I don't think there's anyone that warrants more respect than Aunt May. Ok, maybe Pepper Potts. And most definitely MJ. MJ, that's short for Michelle Jones, she's my girlfriend the absolute best, most wonderful person, ever. Like, she's so smart, she's really badass and doesn't take anybody's shit. And she's so pretty, like really beautiful, inside even more so than out, although that's not even possible. And when she laughs... The whole room lights up and my brain's entire bio-chemistry just blows up. MJ is the absolute best, perfection incarnate and I realize that I maybe may have trailed off a bit there... Sorry 'bout that, let me get back to the story.

Where was I?

Right, Mr America, Bucky, Sam, a mission and a stern Aunt May.

“It's nothing military”, Steve explained. “It's Tony's birthday coming up and we'd like to get him something special.”

“That's why we need your help”, Sam continued. “You do know him better than we do, after all.”

“And you probably have the best idea what to get the guy that already has everything”, Bucky finished their pitch.

“That is a really wonderful idea”, May smiled.

“Yeah, it's totally awesome”, I agreed. “And I might just have an idea what to get him...”

For purposes of dramatic story telling, I won't share the surprise we got for Mr Stark just yet. Rest assured though, it is a good one.

Spending the afternoon together was a lot of fun. After having gotten the surprise, we all went for doughnuts. The Avengers couldn't stay too long though, they had appointments back at the compound, some sort of meeting, that I am happy to miss out on. Seriously, those Avenger meetings are boring as hell!

So I did what I love doing in my free time: I went out on patrol.

Oh right, that's something else you need to know about me first. Do you see that red figure, swinging through the streets, doing a flip and landing right over there on that rooftop? Yeah, that's me. For I am a superhero! But not just any old superhero, I am the one and only Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man, vigilante par excellence and part time Avenger. As little as I enjoy showing off, I have to admit that this is pretty awesome. I'm super strong, can climb up walls, walk on ceilings and my newest suit update even made me bulletproof! (Well, not me directly, but to quote the one and only Ironman: “The suit and me are one”, so you get where I'm going with this.)

That particular day there wasn't going on too much, though. Few pick-pockets, a car thief, but other than that it was slow, crime-wise. The problem with days like these is that it gives my mind plenty of chances to roam, especially around that one thought: I still hadn't found the perfect birthday gift for Mr Stark myself. Which yes, sounds ironic, given that I had found the perfect thing for the other Avengers to gift him, but not the right thing for me to give him. You see, our relationship started out as this sort of mentorship, where he helped me with the suit, showed me the way around an engineer's lab and is always ready to help out during patrol. By now he's more like my family. And yes, I found this pretty funny shirt, with that graph having a bunny and a duck as the x- and y-axes. No, let me rephrase that, it's not pretty funny, it's freaking hilarious. But it doesn't really say how important Mr Stark and our relationship is to me.

But what do you give the guy who is kind of like a Dad to you?

Unfortunately, even though I'm pretty smart, this thought process took a lot longer than I'd have liked. Even with the help of Ned and MJ, the smartest and best people I know, I got jack with a side of squat. The best thing they came up with was for me to cook a nice dinner for Mr Stark and Pepper. Which would be a wonderful idea, if I could cook something other than toaster-waffles or microwave-popcorn. And, as delicious as either of those are, neither really make for a fancy dinner fit for my father-figure's fiftieth birthday.

“Come on, you can make him a cake at least”, Ned mumbled, clearly caring more about my issue than the Spanish Test we were supposed to be taking right now. And that is the exact reason why he's my best friend and why I love him so.

“Fine. You know how to make a cake?”

“That's what the internet's for”, MJ hissed over.

So that's where I ended up (after getting detention for talking during a test), in front of my computer, googling how to make a cake. But just a cake wasn't enough. It was like a nice entrée, but the main course had to be so mind-blowingly amazing, showing Tony how much he means to me.

At this point of the story I'd like you all to burn into your mind how pure my intentions were and you have to agree that all I'm doing is the most amazing shit. Right, now that we're in agreement that I'm a wonderful, charming person and a delight to have around, let me continue to where everything started to go downhill.

Regrettably, all my fantastic ideas didn't really hit until the night before, which brings me to my first mistake: me thinking I could plan the most wonderful and amazing gift for Tony in about one night. Needless to say, I didn't really think all of it completely through (Mistake 2). And, for added motivation, I ingested an interesting and possibly quite dangerous mix of coffee and redbull (Mistake 3).

At first everything started out perfectly fine. The recipe was simple enough, I barely burned the damn thing and the parts that were a little dark were easily enough covered in chocolate. Some blueberries on top and I even managed to fit 50 candles on top.

Oh, you should have seen Tony's face when I carried it into the compound, he was so happy!

“Peter, that looks so delicious! I'm not sure I'm that old, though.”

“Sorry”, I shrugged and barely bit down my grin, but it's just so much fun to rile up Tony, especially when it came to his age.

“Yeah, yeah”, he grumbled and, with his arm around my shoulder pushed me to the living room, “let's jump ahead before you say something that might make me throw you out of my house.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“How was school?”

Oh fuck. After spending all morning in the kitchen, there might have been something I might have forgotten... (Mistake 4). Shit, May was so going to ground me.

“Nothing unusual”, I lied. (Mistake 5 – never, ever lie to Tony Stark, no matter how big or small the fib). “MJ and Ned wish you a very happy birthday.”

“Thank them from me. Now, the official party that is supposed to be a surprise starts in an hour.”

“Which of course you know about”, I grinned. It was virtually impossible to keep anything from Tony in this building.

“Naturally”, he grinned back. “Wanna sample a taste first, though?”

“I would love to try this perfection of palpable divinities.” (Misplaced confidence and hubris – mistake 6).

“Right.” It was with a roll of his eyes that Tony got a knife out. “So, the trick is to cut out a small slice from the middle, push the sides back together and...”

“Yeah, yeah, what do you take me for?”, I shot back, “I'm not too dumb myself.” That statement will soon be disproved, but let's revel in the beauty that is this moment where everything is still alright.

And for a few glorious moments, everything was perfect. The cake was delicious and Tony seemed to think so, too. Until he started clearing his throat. And again.

“You alright?”

“What's in that cake?”, he coughed, loosening his tie. “Not walnuts, is it?” (And that would be mistake 7).

“Uhm yeah?” Well shit. “Please don't tell me...” Of fucking course Tony would be fucking allergic to my birthday cake. “FRI, tell Bruce we're on our way to the medbay.”

“It's ok”, Tony choked, “I'll be...”

“Yes, you'll be fine.” I tried my all to sound not too panicked, I'm honestly not so sure if I succeeded, what, with my focus being on trying to get Mr Stark some help. Admittedly I all but carried him to the medbay, which he probably didn't appreciate as much as I hoped he would, but well. Safety first. (And maybe, next time, figure out what allergies the people around me have).

A shot from Bruce later, it was ok again. I would love to say it was great, but well. The admittedly disgusting looking swelling around his neck went down, and he even managed to sort of breathe again, but it still didn't look all that healthy. In short: it fucking sucked.

“Hey kid, it's alright, lived through worse.”

That might have been true, but then it hadn't been my fault. And it had been on the battlefield, not within the safety of his home and the comfort that was supposed to be his birthday party.

“And you didn't ruin my birthday”, Tony continued; apparently now able to hear every single one of my thoughts. “It doesn't matter if I look a little puffy on the pictures. It's still gonna be a fantastic party.”

“Of course he knows about the party”, Bruce scoffed. “Who blabbed?”

“Nobody did”, Tony made clear, “I'm a genius, remember?”

“Yeah, so are the other people present.”

Not that I felt much like a genius at that very moment. And Mr Stark was definitely in worse shape than “just a little puffy”. The rash had gone down a bit, but under normal circumstances Tony wasn't that red unless when wearing his iron suit and he tried not to let anything on, but I was pretty sure that whatever Tony would try to eat would be immediately thrown up again.

The other Avengers thought the whole thing to be hilarious. Which it really wasn't. Trust me. I know I wasn't the one who who almost died, but almost killing my father-figure? Being the person responsible for taking down Ironman?

Given the – hopefully understandable – embarrassment, I'm going to skip telling you about the teasing, the comments, the jabs, the laughter and everything the Avengers dished out. Well, as luck would have it, my actual present was still to come and that just had to blow everybody's mind enough that they'd forget my poisoning of Tony.

So not too long into that horrible party, I happily excused myself and headed straight for mistake number 8: letting my frustration motivate all my next moves. It would probably be best to tell you what I envisioned for my proper gift: personalized fireworks. Before you say anything, I now know that it was a horrible idea. There is probably no need for me to tell you what happened next, is there? To put a painful story short there was a loud bang and then things around me go dark.

If I'm being perfectly honest, I couldn't tell you much more details about that very situation if I wanted to, it's all a little hazy and Mr Dr Bruce say it's to blame on me hitting my head when that explosion threw me across the workshop. That we know thanks to FRIDAY, the Stark AI, having recorded it all and it would have been quite nice to remember that because the footage looks rad.

Anyways, I survived. Yay! Aunt May threatened some workshop-restrictions and a bit of grounding, not so yay, and MJ called me a dumbass, which is MJ-language for 'I'm glad you're not dead and I love you'. So, yay on that as well.

At the end of the day it was just Pepper and Tony cuddled on one couch, Happy and Rhodey decidedly not cuddling on another and me with my head on Aunt May's lap while she put her fingers through my hair, which is just the most soothing feeling in the world.

“I don't want to kill the mood, but mind telling us why you first tried to kill me and then yourself?”

“I didn't try to kill anyone. I just wanted to give you the perfect birthday gift.”

“That is the absolute sweetest thing”, he smiled. Well, I think he smiled, his face was at that point still weirdly swollen. “But you do know that every gift from you is the perfect gift, right? Even those ridiculous shirts are worth more than any Gucci suit.”

“Well, if you're bringing it up...” With that bruise on my face my smile looked probably similarly skew and messed up as Tony's. “If the cake was the entrée and the fireworks the main course, this is dessert.” From underneath the couch, where I had hidden it, I got out the last present. It took me probably an hour to wrap that damn t-shirt, suffered countless paper-cuts, invented half a dozen new swearwords and it still looked like it got caught under a steamroller. Maybe giving gifts just isn't my strong suit...

“This doesn't blow up if I open it, does it?”, Tony grinned.

“I didn't expect the other two to go that disastrous, so who knows?”

It didn't blow up, in case you were wondering. And Tony loved it, in case you were wondering about that.

So there we are. I am an idiot, yes, I know that, Mr Stark knows that and you know that, but I believe I'm an adorable idiot. It's been a few days since Mr Stark's birthday, I'm all healed, as is Tony. Of course I have not yet lived it down; the Avengers unfortunately aren't forgetful when it comes to idiocy and therefore I have repeatedly been gifted walnuts over the last few days and will continue to receive them for a long time to come.

But that's alright. The best gift, as it turned out in the end, wasn't for Tony, but for me: at his latest press thing, Mr Stark actually wore the shirt I got him. An official SI press conference, with the most prestigious papers and news outlets from all over the world and he showed up not in a fancy expensive suit, but in the damn science-pun shirt about rabbits and ducks. And all the explosions and near-death experiences can go to hell, because the very picture of Tony wearing MY shirt adorned all the newspapers this morning. And that's the best present anybody could ever get.

The End

Oh shit, wait, I totally forgot to tell you what the Avengers got Tony! You're going to love this. A little hint: Pepper wasn't all that happy about it. Yeah, you got it: a giant plush-bunny! Exactly, it's amazing.

Huh, maybe I'm not that bad at having gift ideas after all...

[taylornock]

how cell phones made our lives better while simultaneously ruining them

hi fam!! it’s me, again. are you tired of hearing from me? me too. that’s why I’m here to rant about social media / phone / technology. bc i hate it… but in a loving way???

everyone remembers when they got their first iPhone. seriously. why is that such a monumental moment in our lives? i can hardly remember what i felt like freshman year of high school but can pinpoint the feeling of sheer glee unwrapping my iPhone 6 in eighth grade. i have this thing that is attached to me 24/7 - when I go anywhere (even downstairs) without my phone i feel weird. that is f***ing SAD! PATHETIC. i hate feeling that dependent on what is essentially a pocket robot.

for what it’s worth - phones have done INCREDIBLE things for the world as we know it. for example, this quarantine shit has been testing all of us; and our phones are helping us get through it in so many ways. our phones let us see the faces of those loved ones we are missing, our phones provide us with stupid tik tok content to keep everything light hearted, and our phones let us check in on each other. all amazing things! when we are at school, we have instant access to our lives at home . being able to call my mom whenever i want is something i definitely abuse. “mom, I’m on my way home from Thompson right now and i think i have a brain aneurysm but my bio final is at 11am tomorrow will i make it” … an actual conversation i had with my mom at the end of freshman year. needless to say i was medicated shortly after THAT meltdown. I am such a brat that i don’t know what i would do if i couldn’t text my dad and have him immediately get me the password again to our Uverse account…… god forbid i miss an episode of the bachelor. i have this phone, and that’s what i do with it? abuse its powers to ask my parents for medical advice or a password i forgot? have we lost sight of everything here?

throughout life and especially throughout quarantine… my phone is the definition of a possession that is a blessing and a curse. I’m so grateful to have the ability to bother my friends - whenever i want! the options are endless! i love keeping in touch with people i thought id never hear from again, and being able to talk to so many people in my life and make my heart swell. now, when a conversation with someone other than my two roommates (shoutout parents) is so rare ⎯ that phone is my weapon and i use it to help flatten the curve: flatten the curve of covid19 and flatten the curve of my mental illness 🙃 [humor is a coping mechanism okay let me live] but like, i KNOW i’m not the only one that looks at my screen time and immediately wants to die. how can i honestly be looking at my phone for that long? picking it up THAT many times?????? my phone is the best distraction and also the most toxic - it makes me feel better but has a tendency to bring up all my issues and blast them into the reflection of my blue light glasses...... its called fashion look it up.

to give some examples - let’s open up my most used app: snapchat. I go on snapchat with the best of intentions - to see a memory from a year ago that makes me smile. to respond to my friends and see what their mood today is based on the look on their face. to creep on snap stories and see what everyone’s cooking and doing with their lives. somehow, tho, after spending a few minutes on the app.. i end up with a pit in my stomach most of the time. the person i want to respond hasn’t responded in 4 hours. oh god lets overthink this- they don’t like me anymore and are no longer interested in speaking to me and only respond every once in a while out of pity or because they are uncomfortable. everyone hates you. oh and GOD FORBID someone leaves me on open??! I am not funny nor interesting nor worth a reply - suddenly, i have equated my value to receiving or not receiving a photo of someone’s blank stare. this is extreme, and this is dramatic. but trust me —— this is the hamster wheel always turning in my head. I’m not even going to touch on snap maps; that feature is pandoras box and someone better fucking shut it.

second most used app is instagram. i scroll for hours, i have time limits set for the app acting like i’m actually going to listen to them and get off. lmaooooooooo. i love looking at aesthetic stuff and dogs and food and recipes and my friends’ beautiful faces. but you know what i don’t like? constant nudges to compare myself to others. oh look at her having a party with all of her friends even though we aren’t supposed to be. am i a loser for trying to be safe? oh look at her washboard abs, i’m never going to look like that and will never live up to the standard of beauty society has set for me. look at all of these people in their happy relationships. why can’t i have that? it goes over and over and over. its not like i sit there and think of these things just like that, its a precedent in my mind when i stare at everybody else that i am going to size my own life up against theirs. for years i followed every single elite model / VS angel on instagram to motivate me to do better - to start being psycho about what i did to my body so i could be as gorgeous as them. what kind of fucked up mindset is that? i would literally watch their footage of them eating rice and vegetables once a day and try to copy it. i would watch their runway walks obsessively trying to recreate them in heels alone in my house - like that was all i could imagine doing with my life. did i ever stop for a second to look at that photoshoot of gigi hadid and wonder if she was happy? wonder if the constant pictures she saw of herself ever made her insecure? what was i doing? the day i unfollowed those girls was a monumental day in my journey to a better self image. i didn’t realize the people i thought were my “motivators” were actually my triggers. i have grown to a point in life now that i would much rather eat a stack of chocolate chip pancakes that make me dance in my chair like an infant than practice my runway walk and shame my body in the mirror. and i am so freakin happy! 

i could go app by app for hours. but moving on to the next thing i hate about cell phones - how they have destroyed our biological methods of communication. you hear about those psychos who think the world is destroyed by technology and we are going to be overrun by robots. but hey, I’m with the psychos on this one. i have this amazing friend, Trevor Wright, who without fail at EVERY dinner announces “phones off friends on” and collects our phones into the center of the table. yes, we are 20 year old adults. yes, we hand our phones over to Trevor and let him yell at us for trying to see if ~that person~ snap chatted us back. i have so much respect for him because of this. there is nothing worse than staring at your phones when you could be having a good conversation about life, about love, about laughter + memories, about “do you think hellen keller is real?” anything, bro, anything. anything but snapchat messaging your hoe of the week or mindlessly playing tetris to twiddle your thumbs. we all need to start loving a little harder, and the first step to doing that is to communicate better. communicate smarter. I’m guilty of alllll of the above, don’t get me wrong. and I am ADD asf and constantly playing mindless games just to stimulate my brain. but i need to stop that! even writing this is taking some time away from the dumb shit on my phone - and encouraging me to communicate how i     r e a l l y   feel to my homies that will read this. communication - especially body language - is fascinating. I’ve studied it in  psych, I’ve learned the neurological bases of behavior and why we do what we do. I’ve learned how much our life experience impacts who we are as a whole...and it! is! fascinating! i also think that’s why i love film so much. because it can capture the raw moments of your friends just being your friends, of you just being the person you are, and the world around you just existing as it exists. i love the raw moments; and not just because indy blue posted one youtube video of her slow mo laughing and now thats the only footage i find myself shooting. 😚

im not quite sure what this post is, lol. but - just a rant on technology. so listen to me:

take advantage of technology + social media! it CAN BE GREAT. for so many reasons. but, don’t let technology + social media TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOU. stay true to you - know how to communicate with yourself and your loved ones without the use of a robot. remember that feeling when you setup up your first iPhone? imagine if you could feel that again, with your phone nowhere in sight. if you don’t know how to communicate with yourself yet, start by journaling. WRITE! TYPE! SPEAK! do what you want. getting your thoughts down even without an audience is so crucial to understanding yourself and others. if you don’t like to write, reflect. breathe. meditate. make art. do what makes you feel at peace, and do whatever makes you feel like the world makes a little bit more sense than it does. 

IF YOU ARE READING DOWN TO HERE, I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU, SAY IT BACK! LIFE IS A FUCKING HIGHWAY. AND IM SO GLAD YOU’RE ON MY INTERSTATE. <3

xoxoxoxo

gossip girl

[abthepoet]

So Id like to mention that COVID19 has put a lot of things into perspective.

My industry of experiential marketing was literally one of the first to go about a week ago when stores began banning all live demonstrations. I work in the natural and organic food industry doing live events and cooking recipes on site to sample brands to customers at grocery retailers.And because sampling tables are good places to spread germs, my demos all immediately came to a stop. I'm also an in home, private Music Teacher to kids of various ages and needless to say if schools' on hold, so is teaching. and so is income. My Venmo is :ABBlas22

Which sucks, a lot because the majority of my work is independent contractor based. . . .and there's no health care, paid leave, unemployment, or sick time. Why do I still do it? Because I love the industry, the opportunities it affords me, and the pay is solid. Except come tax season. The Government likes to fuck you if you work for yourself. . . .even tho I pay for all my own equipment and car repairs to get me from job to job. My Venmo is ABBlas22

However, amid the panic, I havent felt this calm in years. The constant anxiety and pressure of having to make money and go to work and be on time and make my schedule and drive from this city to that city for this demo and that demo, has subsided. I finally wake up and I'm not staring at the clock counting down how long before I have to leave which triggers an anxiety fest about leaving my dogs home alone because my one dog has such severe separation anxiety she destroys her crate, escapes, and then ruins the house(we are actively working on it) . . .so I'm up early and nervous about, "ok I have three hours I have to walk the dogs for at least one of those hours, feed them, get dressed, brush teeth, try to eat, clean the house, stuff their Kongs, make sure I have everything I need, and then try to sneak out before the dog starts freaking out." followed by "did I book enough demos this week, if I have to execute 16 for the month where can I put another demo, should I give myself a day off? nah, i need the money, let me check my Google calendar for the 65th time this morning and stare at all the blank dates I should be booking demos instead of doing anything else because no matter how much I work, it is never enough. So I spend an hour worrying about plunging my family into financial ruin. . . . better get online and start digging thru emails and brand Ambassador groups to make sure I've got enough work. Oh what's that? the sound of my entire family and partner telling me to get a *regular* job even though the idea of punching a clock and working for someone else makes me physically sick. . but I go and do it anyway because its a W2 position so you think well maybe I'll get health benefits at least and then come to find out that this bullshit retail job doesn't give part timers benefits of any kind, but I keep the job anyway because everyone said a normal job was best, but it pays $6 less an hour than my demo gigs and is a total waste of my skills and professional experience and eventually is cutting into my income because its taking up so many weekly hours but pays significantly less that I start calling out to go do demos instead and then the same people who were like "get a regular job" turn around and go "no, not That job, try This job."

and I'm over here ready to fucking scream because I've Been very clear about wanting to be in business for myself. I have tried many things, including testing an extremely beta version of what eventually became Uber Eats. . . I could be a millionaire but my parents thought it was a stupid idea and once I used up my resources trying to drum up business, that was it.

also, this is the worst part about being a millennial. I went to college for music because they said be anything and follow your dreams . . .but then I graduated into recession (2006) and got the first job I could,at a deli, which . . . .isn't exactly a degree holding position. For years we said,"I'm just grateful I Have a Job right now." and we got bitter, broke, and depressed as a generation. We're in our 30's now and it's just as bleak an outlook for our generational future. At least until the boomers die out and free up some of that wealth, if they don't all leave it to the cat and state first just to spite us.

So yea, people are freaked out with COVID19 but for the first time, I dont feel pressure or anxiety to rush out the house or make money because everything got cancelled. All I want to do is work super hard on my own online store via Shopify and grow from there. I love to work and I love the discipline of hard work. I would rather spend 18 hours in a day working on my own business and hustling my ass off to make it work using over a decade of marketing and sales experience to promote my brand for once.

But that's hard to invest time and money when I live paycheck to paycheck and have a partner and fur babies who depend on me. Everytime I excitedly talk about dropshipping through shopify and all my plans for it, it's met with a nervous "I believe in you but dont fuck us financially." "I believe in you but doesn't that take time." "I believe in you but why don't you just work here, they pay decent."

I love that the #Coronavirus hit and suddenly human rights are easy to hand out. I love that Coronavirus got us to halt economies on a scale so massive that will actually help us fight climate change. Capitalism has destroyed our planet and our species.

I want to always remind everyone that we are a species first. Not countrymen, not race, not religion. . . we are all dancing flesh bags, given different corporeal conduits with which to experience life and then later compare notes with one another.

"What's life like in that short skin suit?"

"Not bad but I can't reach anything."

"Good thing I got one of these tall skin suits." *grabs top shelf items*

"Thanks!"

It's to help us come together, understand similarities thru differences and use them to gain new perspectives while helping our species and our planet thrive.

This insane notion that everyone needs to have a job needs to go. Our species was Not made to do slave labor all day long for an invented wage that keeps us stuck fighting for basic survival when we have the potential to completely alter our lives.

The Earth is a hostage who's not allowed to feed her own kids. They locked up every fruit bearing tree, enslaved every animal, poisoned the soil, polluted the water and then held your life at gunpoint and demand you hand over hours of your life to work that does a disservice to your potential for greatness just for a chance to get a taste of what should be your birthright.

Basic needs of survival that all humans will die without shouldn't be prizes for who can work themselves to death the fastest.

Im using this time as an opportunity and am taking what little resources I have to work on my online store and sell off and flip what I can to make start up money on Ebay. (I dont even have WiFi and my apartment complex has locked the business center for CoronaVirus) . Using my phone for everything is really fucking tedious, especially because I've had it for 4 years and it doesn't always cooperate, but I'm grateful I even have one to use. If you want to invest in me, even just $5 I will 100% be using it to get a business off the ground. I've got most of the basic work done and market research, but with no income I cant even afford the basic Shopify plan at $30 a month, I'm hoping they pass a moratorium on evictions because how do I pay rent with no job to go to!?

My Venmo is : ABBlas22 and I do reward!

[prorevenge]

Psycho Ex gets my egoless revenge with a side of heavy-duty karma.

The following story occurred over the course of 13-8 years ago, and I apologize preemptively for the length, because it is a bit involved.

I was in a relationship for 9 years with a girl I met in college. We broke up on the cusp of my 29th birthday. While breakups and divorce are never trauma-free, this one was as close to that as I believe is humanly possible to get, there were no fights and minimal drama, and I moved to a new city to get a fresh start and be nearer my dad/stepmom/half sisters, as I'm close to them and it was nice to have family during this. Get an apartment, start over, everything's good. Then I meet "her."

Things with her seemed good at first. She was the polar opposite of my ex. She's quiet yet nice, had her life relatively together (my first wife was very unfocused and horrible with money), physically a complete contrast, wild in the bedroom--I thought I had hit the jackpot.

Anyhoo, I fall for her hard. We have a whirlwind romance, move in shortly, and we have this glamorous life where we make good money (she was a corporate accountant, I had a decent small business, we're pulling in 150K+ combined), renting a luxury apartment, one car paid and the other brand new, no kids. Things are great, except that we drink too much together and some other underlying issues I'm blind to at the time. We get soused one night and drive to Vegas, and get married on the strip after 6 months of dating and 9 of knowing each other. The ink is barely dry on my divorce papers from version 1.0, but no matter, I'm in love. My family likes her overall. Her family loves me. We adopt cats. We talk about trying to have a kid.

We upgrade our life and take on more debt, just as the housing bubble bursts and the economy tanks, she loses a couple jobs due to her inability to show up on Mondays, and I start losing clients as the ones I have start cutting their advertising budget (my field). Things start to get pinched, and she first starts complaining, then gets petulant, because now we can't spend the way we used to, the quarterly mini-vacations dry up, plus we're cooking at home instead of going out to eat 4x a week. We basically stop having sex a little more than a year into the relationship (didn't realize it then, because I was dumb and love-blind, but she cheated on me during this period).seRealizing what we're up against with our normal bills plus our credit cards, I go out and get a job bartending at a posh resort, the only other real skill I have at the time that's marketable. I get two other part time gigs to help make ends meet. She still complains, and throws me an ultimatum before I even start getting paychecks, laying the blame at my feet. I say fine, screw this then. Had we stuck it out even a few more months, things would have started to turn a financial corner. Instead, she goes full two-faced, mean-spirited bitch on me. The night we first fight, she "attempts suicide" by scratching her wrist with a leatherman, then calls 911, gets admitted to the hospital (I arrive home to cops telling me this), and has the security guard toss me when I show up to see if she's okay because she doesn't want to talk to me. I use the quotes because there was a small collection of firearms nearby I bought for her target shooting hobby which were untouched, so it was obviously just a ploy for attention.

We basically fight for the next week, I give her everything she wants, which includes leaving the house, signing over my new truck to her, and only taking stuff I brought into the relationship, basically enough to fill a small storage space. She's financially pinched so I sell my office furniture for cash and don't even touch the bank account, just take my biz money and one CC I got separate from her. I go to the Bay Area for a few months, financially struggle, don't get the job I was sure was on lock. During this time, I have this revelation one evening--I drink too much and that it's caused a load of problems in my life, so I quit, and I haven't touched a drop since.

Broke and realizing nothing I try is working, I come back to town, live with my dad for a month, find a roommate, then a shit retail job (my business has dropped from 7-8K per month at its height to now around 500/mo), I bike everywhere bc I can't afford a car, and my credit is toast partially due to her love of spending on plastic, so I'm facing bankruptcy. I'm 31, and this is really humbling, but whatever, I'm alive, have dealt with hardship before, this won't last forever. She has kept her house, declared personal BK on her debts, keeps her car, and has been dating a series of men starting a couple weeks after we split. While I never asked the details, apparently she's also reached out to a few of my friends and badmouthed me a bit. This would be mildly annoying, but add in two factors--she's dragging her feet on the divorce due to not having money to file, keeps up contact on the pretense of us needing to talk, but plays emotionally manipulative head games during the whole sequence ("I've realized I still love you, that's why you can make me cry so easily," and other bullshit Hallmark movie lines like this). Also, we live in a suburb that's smaller and tightly knit, so multiple places I go to like my church, the bookstore I frequent, and the coffee shop right by my place, she talks endless shit to people. Says I was a cheater and physically/emotionally abusive (complete crap, but whatever), I'm stalking her, I supposedly stole tens of thousands of dollars from her, the whole nine. Some people actually believe her, I even get threatened by a wannabe biker one night that's literally twice my age with violence, itself a funny story but not the point.

Finally, after some more bullshit and back and forth, she leaves town (more falsehoods around this, including her borrowing a bit of money she didn't end up paying back, and sticking me with a massive overage on our cell bill right before we split the account). My dumb, trusting heart hurts but I'm mostly relieved to see the last of her, realizing she's only nice to me when she wants something. She goes to NY to shack up with another guy, gets pregnant 15 minutes later. Finally sends me divorce paperwork. I sign it and send back quickly, all notarized docs, everything organized and flagged. She attempts to be "friends" and I want no part of this BS. I'm businesslike, she gets upset. She screws up filing, blames me. I say "whatever," straighten out the court issues. One week after the divorce is finalized, the kid is born. No word from her after that for two years, thank god. I get a new career, start advancing in it, and start dating a new woman that I'm still with 10 years later. Weirdly enough, they knew each other, and she didn't like her, partially because one of my ex's infidelity partners was her ex-husband, during a time they were exploring patching things up for the kids' sake (though there were multiple reasons for her distrust, apparently she always gave my wife an icky intuitive feeling).

So flash forward two years. I get a call from my current squeeze. She's just talked to a friend who was also a very brief roomie of "her" after our split. She's breaking up with the baby daddy. There's a custody fight. He's saying he doesn't know if it's his. Will I help her? Well, it's the right thing to do, so even though I don't trust or particularly like her, I say yes. I get the call, and a sob story. Most of it doesn't add up--he took the kid, but thinks it's actually mine, to prove paternity I'd need to come to NY and take a paternity test at one of their facilities, also he hit her, put a GPS tracker on her car, brother is a Russian mobster who threatened her, all very far-fetched. Needless to say, even without this fanciful tale, I generally assume if this woman is talking, it's a lie, so I'm suspicious. Her lawyer calls me, and seems like a clueless shmuck. I get a letter from him, very unprofessional and not even on a letterhead (every other legal doc I've seen has "from the law offices of blah blah" on it, but this is literally just off a laser printer), and says, verbatim "I, M___ K___, am the ex-husband of J___ K___, and was married to her from 6/07-8/09. I have no legal interest in the child." Super shady.

Not wanting to end up in a situation where I've allowed myself to be legally fucked over, I make my own lawyer consultation appointment. Before I can even go, the baby daddy finds me on Facebook and sends me a message. Between calls with him, his lawyer, and the impartial lawyer NY state appoints for the child's welfare, I get a very different story. He knows it's his, he had a paternity test done on the sly at birth because she had been promiscuous before they got together, and she was pregnant so quickly he was concerned. They broke up because she was drinking too much, he busted her with a bottle of vodka as she was driving with the kid in the car. She stood up in court, claimed I was actually the father, and she had no idea where to find me (he found me in 10 seconds online, I'm a tech guy with massive social media presence, a tech blog, multiple writing credits on publications, my frigging name as a domain, plus I've had the same cell phone number for 14 years). Also the other BS was just that, he's an IT guy for a university and his brother works for a carpet cleaning chain, plus just like in our relationship, he never hit or stalked her, etc.

So she, not knowing what I know, starts sending me text messages. I say "Filled out and on its way back to your lawyer," and toss it in the trash. I'm so tempted to send her some poetic message about how the truth is coming back to haunt her, but I resist, because I'm not doing this for her, but rather for the sake of their son and his father, so let's keep my ego out of it. I provide legal statements to all in the court. Tell them I know it's not possibly mine because I hadn't been with her since April 15 of '08, kid's birthday is in Sept of '09 (I remember the date because, due to taxes, I got fucked twice that day). Explain when she was in NY, which is the likely dates of conception, prove I was thousands of miles away on the west coast. Tell them to look through her social media, where she meticulously tagged herself and took tons of pictures of even their mundane locations. Provide a blood sample to a local lab. Tell them salacious details about her drinking and occasional drug use, including her abused prescriptions and a previous hospitalization where she was held for psych eval due to taking way too many pills.

Court comes, and she gets blindsided. Stack of depositions and a collection of statements from me were what sealed the deal, apparently, and the incredibly stupid game she was running is fully exposed. Gets no custody, no support, supervised visitation once a week. I run into her ex-roomie, upset, but instead of giving her attitude, I just calmly tell her the scam J__ was running, then let her "pull out of me" the truth about our split. She's flabbergasted, but also a horrible gossip, so it gets around town like wildfire. People I barely know, including the aforementioned biker, all come up to me and apologize for misjudging me. I'm years past the stage of having any morbid curiosity to check her social media, but every few months she pops up as a "suggested friend," and I notice bemusedly the number of mutual friends plummets from triple digits to eventually 3. Baby's father sends me a massive Amex gift card for Christmas, as much as I make in a week at the time. I call and tell him I don't know if I can accept it, I don't want him or anyone to think I did this for a reward. He virtually begs, saying "you helped save my family. This is nothing in comparison. Thank you." We break down crying on the phone, and eventually form an odd, distant friendship based on mutual respect for each other. I even had dinner with him a couple times when I had to go to NY for biz over the years, and I always buy, because the poor guy has done enough and gone through enough having to coparent with this train wreck.

To this day, she's apparently struggling to stay sober (alcohol and other substances), and has minimal involvement in her child's life due to her inability to show up when expected. Baby daddy tells me she's been in legal trouble, financial issues up the ass, and a string of boyfriends that never last more than a few months. I'm doing well, got married again three years ago, raised step-children, am reasonably financially successful, and rather like my life. Granted, a large part of this story is just karma in action, but I feel like I did the right thing, wasn't petty, and what I did do hit her where it hurts.

TL;DR: Ex-wife fucks my life, destroys me financially, tries to trash my reputation, then tries to use me as a scheme in her custody battle years later. I talk to the court directly, work with the baby daddy's lawyers, and get her exposed for the psycho, lying wench she is. She loses custody, struggles, and the good people live mostly happily ever after.

(source) (story by heymomo7)